“I think it’s aboutaccess,” she replied. “And leverage. His body drops haven’t always been this public, In fact, I can only think of one other that was and that was only because they started construction on that site a week early.”
My jaw tightened.
The coffee maker hissed and spat behind me. Neither of us turned to acknowledge it.
“Mallory, whatever he does or doesn’t do about me, that’s not on you,” I said.
Her mouth tipped slightly. Not humor. Recognition. “Well, then whatever he decides to do about me shouldn’t be on you.”
“Wrong,” I corrected her. “Your safety is my job. I’m the agent. I am supposed to protect you.”
Silence stretched—dense, deliberate.
Then, quietly: “You didn’t tell your bosses I was there.”
“No.”
“You didn’t tell the team.”
“No.”
“You falsified a report.”
“Yes.”
Her breath hitched—not fear. Something closer to understanding the weight of what that meant.
“For me,” she said.
“For the case,” I corrected automatically.
She stepped closer. Close enough that I could smell her shampoo—something clean and understated that had no business doing what it did to my concentration.
“Forme,” she repeated. Not a challenge. A fact.
I didn’t deny it.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “As much as I want to be in on all of it… I know you can’t keep doing that.”
“No,” I agreed, though to be fair the lines had been heavily blurred of late. “I can’t.”
“I don’t want you to get burned.” She studied my face like she was memorizing it against the day she might need to describe it.
“I’ll be fine, Mallory,” I comforted her automatically.
“Will you?” The challenge held a breathier kind of worry rather than a derogatory type of doubt.
“Yes.”
Another silence—this one quieter, heavier.
Her hand lifted and for a moment, I thought she would touch my face like I had hers earlier. Yet, she showed far more restraint though she didn’t withdraw.
“What happens next?” Her eyes dropped—to my mouth this time. Just briefly. Long enough to remind us both of what we were pretending hadn’t already happened.
The coffee finished brewing.
I reached past her to grab a mug. My arm brushed her shoulder. Not accidental. Not avoidable. The contact lingered half a second longer than necessary.
