"See you tomorrow," I say to Ezra.
He looks at me. The wall is still there — reinforced, harder than before, whatever happened last night still shaping his posture and his distance. But behind it, in the space where the crack was yesterday, something is watching me leave.
"See you tomorrow," he says.
I drive back to the hotel. The HVAC hums. The ceiling is the same. I shower, change, lie on the bed.
I don't think about Ezra's wall or Mango's absence or the look in his eyes that saidI'm afraid of what you are.
I think about Langford. Eleven properties. Four demolished. And a bar on a back road that a Senior VP shouldn't know exists.
I open my laptop. Pull up the acquisition database. Start filling in the blanks.
The thread is pulling. I let it.
Chapter 13
Ezra
It's been two days since Delgado. Two days of reinforced walls and deliberate distance and the grinding misery of watching a man you want become a man you can't trust. My lion is furious about the wall — not growling, not anymore. Something worse. Silent. The cold, offended silence of an animal that has been overruled and is not forgiving me for it.
Jason notices. Jason always notices.
"You look terrible," he says, mid-morning, before Nicholas arrives.
"Thanks."
"When did you sleep last night?"
"Two. Maybe."
"And the night before?"
"Same."
Jason sets a plate in front of me. Eggs, toast, the kind of meal he makes when he's worried about someone and expressing it through protein. "Eat. And stop whatever you're doing to yourself."
"I'm being cautious."
"You're being miserable. There's a difference." He leans on the counter. "Silas told me about the exit sweeps starting again. Knox told me Delgado came by. I can add."
"Then you know why I'm being cautious."
"I know why you think you're being cautious. I also know that you've been researching Coldwell for a week and the guyin the booth doesn't know about it, and that feels like a kind of dishonesty you're not comfortable with."
I look at Jason. He's right — that's the part that's eating me. Not just the suspicion, not just the wall. The hypocrisy. I'm researching Coldwell in secret while judging Nicholas for potentially doing something I'm afraid of. I'm building a case while he's building a case and neither of us knows the other one is looking.
"What am I supposed to do?" I ask. "Show him my spreadsheet? 'Hey, I've been investigating your employer since you walked in, want to compare notes?'"
"I mean, yeah. That's actually exactly what I'd do."
"You'd trust a corporate agent with evidence that his company is targeting shifters."
"I'd trust the guy who told his date to leave for being a bigot. I'd trust the guy who tips thirty percent and writes notes about Robin's lemon bars. I'd trust the guy whose cat chose him." Jason picks up the empty plate. "But that's me. I trust people. It's my tragic flaw."
"It's not a flaw."
"Tell that to my exes." He goes back to the kitchen. Conversation over.
