That softened something in her expression. Just a fraction.
“Flint…” She hesitated. Rare for her. “If this goes where I think it’s going?—”
“I know.”
“You don’t,” she countered. “Because if you did, you’d already be telling me to stop.”
I stepped closer. Not touching. Never touching.
“Listen to me,” I said quietly. “The only thing keeping us from crossing a line right now is that I shut that door a long time ago.”
Her breath caught.
“And if you open it?” she asked.
I held her gaze. “Then we don’t get to close it again.”
The words hung between us—heavy, intimate, dangerous. Her phone buzzed, and the moment broke.
She looked down, scrolling, brow furrowing. “The messages are wrong.”
“I know.”
“Too fast,” she continued. “Too clean. Like someone fed my voice into a machine. It’s just regurgitating it to underscoretheiragenda. Whatever the hell that agenda is.”
“Someone did,” I said.
She looked up sharply. “You think this isn’t just trolls?”
“I think you’re right about someone’s agenda. I also think it’s a lot more than one.”
That seemed to have chilled her.
Across the room, one of the agents knocked lightly on the glass. “Ms. McBryan?”
She squared her shoulders again. Armor back in place. “Yes?”
“Agents Hale and Brewster want you back at the safe house.”
“Time?” she asked me.
“Soon,” I said. “But not today. Take a day, let yourself grieve.”
“I can’t,” she admitted, a little hollow at that. “Not yet.”
The urge to comfort her was right there, but that wasn’t what she needed. With a sigh, I said, “Then take the time. We give this another day.”
She nodded, trusting me with the timing. That trust was its own kind of intimacy.
“And take the food with you,” I said, shuttling one of the takeout containers into her hands. “You need to eat.”
With a faint smirk, she said, “You worry too much.” Then she was stepping out through the door the agents held wide. I watched her go, professional distance restored.
I followed to watch her go and as the elevator doors closed, I blew out a breath. I was still watching the elevator indicator descend when my phone rang.
Brewster.
I answered without greeting.
