“I have nothing in Matchbook either Ben.”
He snatches my hand in his and squeezes. “You have me, Annie, you will always have me.”
Playit!
Ben
We got back around nine this morning. As soon as she and Joan Wick were situated, I started a new case file for her. I asked Annie for more specifics and entered the data into my laptop so the team could get a jump on her case before we briefed.
I left Annie locked safe in my apartment a half a block away, and now I’m at LPA leaning against the wall in the large room we call the vault for its impenetrable design, waiting for Drew to show up.
Fitz, Landon, Harlan, and Shep are talking among each other about something I’m not paying attention to, and the empty chair next to Parker is mine, but I’m too agitated to sit.
I look at my phone, propped on the table, to watch the live camera feeds from my place. Annie is still where I left her fifteen minutes ago—sitting on the couch with Joan Wick in her lap, watching TV. I glance up at the digital clock on the wall, and when the time changes to indicate it’s ten minutes past noon, I shift my weight, frustrated by the delay.
“Sorry for the holdup.” Drew closes the door behind him, crosses the room, and sits at the head of the table. “Before we get started with particulars, I need to know if anyone besides me objects to Ben’s involvement from here on out.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What the fuck?”
“I’m sorry, did you say anyone besides you?” Parker asks, a note of disbelief in his tone. He was already pissed I didn’t tell him about Annie immediately, so I’m sure he’s not thrilled about how that news was just delivered.
Drew answers with conviction. “Yes.”
“The only thing I object to is you blindsiding me with this bullshit right now.” Parker starts to stand, but Shep puts a hand on his shoulder and pushes him back into his seat as he speaks up. “I don’t have a single objection, either.”
“Ben’s the most well acquainted with the victim and the facts of the previous case should they be pertinent,” Fitz says. “I’d be more surprised if he wasn’t involved.”
Harlan nods. “Same.”
“Not sure if this is overstepping on a family issue or anything…” Landon hesitates. “But I don’t get why this is even a question.”
I stand silent, waiting for Drew’s reasoning.
“This has nothing to do with family. It’s all business. And you were all around for the previous case, so you’re aware of its facts, but more importantly, its outcome.”
Parker snaps his fingers. “I get it. And since he won’t say the words, I will. He thinks Ben’s too emotionally invested. Isn’t that right, Drew?”
“Yes.”
Parker looks at me. “Are you too emotionally invested, Ben?”
“No.”
“That’s bullshit,” Drew rebuts. “You were then, you are today, and you will be if she’s around. If you let your guard down again and there’s a repeat of what happened…” He slashes his hand through the air. “Fuck it. Pull it up, Fitz.”
Fitz is the Agency’s cybersecurity and technology expert. If it involves hacking cameras, tracing records, unsealing files, or tracking financials, it goes through him.
His shoulders hunch, and he keeps his head down as his fingers fly across the keyboard of one of his many laptops. The room lights dim, the glass frosts, and a still image of Annie and me on the couch that night five years ago illuminates the large screen on the wall.
A stunned harmony of sharp, uneven breaths sucks the oxygen out of the room, only for disbelief to suffocate any particles that didn’t manage to escape.
I knew the house was under surveillance, but I wasn’t aware the footage had been saved. I clench my fists, and my knuckles pop. “What the hell are you doing? Nobody needs to see this shit.”
Shep clears his throat. “He’s right, Drew.” Shep was there. He was the one who got me to the hospital. Neither one of us needs to relive that hell, ever, let alone in front of an audience.
“I beg to differ. Play it, Fitz.”
“Drew, I—”
