Landon heads straight for the children’s section first. I follow at a distance, giving the young man space. He trails his fingers along the spines of picture books, then stops at a display of activity pads—coloring books with thick pages, intricate mandalas, fantasy scenes. He picks up one with enchanted forests and hidden creatures, flips through it, and smiles.
“These are nice,” he says when I step up beside him.
I nod. “Get it. And pencils. Whatever you want.”
He adds a tin of twenty-four colored pencils to the basket he’s carrying, then hesitates at the board-game shelf. His fingershover over a travel-sized version of Clue, then move to a simple cooperative game about building a fairy-tale kingdom together.
“This one,” Landon decides. “It’s not competitive. We can play without anyone losing.”
I take the box from him and add it to the basket without comment.
We wander the adult shelves next. He pulls a couple of paperbacks—something with a whimsical cover about a dude opening a bookshop in a small town, another with a cozy mystery involving cats and a knitting club.
I grab a worn copy of a Jack Reacher novel from the preowned section. I’ve read it three times already; it’s comfort reading, nothing more. I know I should branch out and try something new, but maybe another time.
As Landon continues to browse, I look and see a message on my phone from Viktor. I knew it was coming, so waste no time in opening it…
VIKTOR: Report immediately. This isn’t a fucking game. I need answers.
IVAN: I had to move, no questions asked. Made sure the guard wasn’t badly hurt. Our location was compromised. It wasn’t the guards, must have been a rival family who knew about the penthouse and put it out into the world. Trust me on this.
VIKTOR: Trust you on what? The leak? Or the fact that you and the boy are clearly more than captor and captive? I’m warning you. This is life or death. I need to know I can trustyou to follow orders as and when I give them. The boy is safe for now, but if I give the command, you must act. Tell me that I’m not a fool for placing my faith in you.
IVAN: You can rely on me.
With that, I place the phone back in my pocket. I feel a bead of sweat forming around my hairline. Viktor is suspicious, and he knows from the footage in the penthouse what’s been going on.
Hell, he might not believe a word I say right now.
Viktor might even be sending men after me and the boy.
He might not know whether he can trust me, but the same is true from my perspective too.Fuck. This ain’t getting any easier.
“Ivan!” Landon calls out, bringing me back into the real world. “Drinks!”
“Coming,” I reply, doing my best to sound casual.
At the café counter we add two hot chocolates—whipped cream for him, plain for me—and a shared chocolate-chip cookie the size of a hubcap. We find a pair of armchairs near the back, away from the windows, and settle in.
For the next forty minutes we don’t speak much. Landon colors careful strokes, tongue caught between his teeth, while I read the same page over and over because I keep watching him instead of the words.
Every so often he glances up, catches me looking, and smiles. Small. Shy. Real.
When the announcement comes over the speakers that the store will close in fifteen minutes, Landon caps his last pencil and closes the coloring book.
“Time to go?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah.”
We pay, bag our purchases, and step out into the night.
The air is colder now, sharp with the promise of frost. Streetlights buzz overhead. A few cars pass, headlights cutting long beams across the asphalt.
Landon stops just outside the doors, clutching the paper bag to his chest like it’s treasure. He tilts his head back and looks up at the sky. It’s cloudless tonight, stars sharp against the black.
“I wish every day could be like this,” he says softly.
I step closer. Close enough that our arms brush.
