Then I open them and do what I've been doing for weeks. I think.
"I'll call him," I say. "Tell him I'm worried about him. That I think he needs to come home because I'm concerned about his mental state. Play the concerned pack brother." I reach for my phone. "He still trusts me."
That last sentence tastes like ash.
Jasper watches me dial.
Ragon picks up on the third ring. "Eli."
"Hey." I keep my voice soft. It's not entirely a performance—I am worried, just not about what he thinks I'm worried about. "Where are you? It's late."
"I'm outside Arden's office. He knows where she is, Eli. I can feel it. He knows and he's not telling me."
"Ragon." I let my voice crack slightly. Just enough. "Can you come home? I've been alone here all day and the house feels... it feels empty. I know that sounds stupid but I don't want to be here by myself tonight."
Silence on the other end.
"Please," I say.
Because I know him. I know that underneath the obsessive searching and the late-night records diving and the feral determination, there's a man who lost most of his pack and is terrified of losing the last person in it. I know that asking him to come home—framing it as me needing him—is the one thing that will override every other impulse.
I know it because I've been studying people my entire career.
And I hate that I'm using it on someone I love.
"I'm coming," he says. "Give me twenty minutes."
I hang up and look at Jasper.
"Text Chase," I say. "Tell Arden not to leave his office until we confirm Ragon is on his way home. And tell Arden to vary his route for the next few weeks. Different roads, different times. Ragon is methodical. If he comes back and tries again, he'll note patterns."
Jasper is already typing.
I sit at the kitchen table and wait for the man I'm betraying to come home because I asked him to.
When Ragon walks through the door forty minutes later, he looks wrecked. He drops his keys on the counter and looks at me.
"Arden knows," he says. "I could see it in his face. He knows where she is and he won't tell me."
"Sit down," I say. "You need to eat."
"Eli, I'm close. I can feel it. If I'd waited longer outside his office—"
"Sit down."
He sits because I asked. Because the house is empty and I'm the only one left and he needs someone to tell him what to do even if he'd never admit it.
He doesn’t understand why Jasper stays. It’s obvious to him that he isn’t going to bond in anymore but I think he believes Jasper doesn’t have anywhere else to go. We let him think that.
I make him a plate. Sit across from him and watch him eat.
He talks while he chews. About Arden's face when he walked in and the receptionist reaching for the phone. About sitting in the parking lot watching the door, convinced that if he waited long enough Arden would lead him somewhere.
I listen, nod in the right places, let him feel heard.
After dinner, while he's in the shower, I text Jasper:He's home. He's fixated on Arden. Tell Chase to warn Arden he'll probably try again.
Then I stand in the kitchen alone and I think about Vee. About a girl who used to bring me romance novels and fall asleep against my shoulder. About the tea I stopped making, the care I stopped providing and every moment I chose the path of least resistance while she disappeared inch by inch.
