“The cabin, that’s what he was looking into, wasn’t he?” Bullet asks. “He asked me to track down a bank account.”
My eyes lock with Bullet’s. “What account?”
“It was a throwaway. Looked like nothing.”
“It must have been more than nothing.” Rex takes a step forward. “Do you still have the details?”
Bullet nods. “Not on me, but I have them.”
“Get them.”
“No.” Aerin’s voice cuts through me and we all turn to face her.
“No?” I ask, disbelief momentarily quelling my anger.
“No, not right now. We have to leave. We’ve been here too long, and if, as you say, this was a message, then we can’t just linger here. We have to go back and pretend everything is normal. If there’s a chance this is unrelated to anything to do with us, then great. But if someone did this because of us, because of me—” Her voice cracks. “Then they’ll be watching me, right? So we need to go back and act normal, Falco.”
She’s right.
“Fuck,” I groan. “I can’t be in two places at once.”
“No,” Rex replies. “But we can.”
A beat of silence fills the air as the three of us regard each other. Strangers brought together by the man now lying dead behind us.
“You’ll keep me updated?” I ask tightly.
Rex and Bullet exchange a glance and nod. “For Pidge.”
“For Pidge,” I repeat softly. “Thanks.”
As we turn to leave, Bullet’s voice stops me in the doorway. “He spoke highly of you, by the way. Even when you were no contact for a few years. He never stopped thinking about you.”
I keep it together until we’re back home and Aerin’s tucked up in bed. I keep it together until I’m back in my room, unable to fully grasp the fact that Pidge is gone.
I keep it together until I’m in the shower under a full blast of scalding hot water.
Then, the tears come.
30
AERIN
“Aerin. Sit.”
Dad stands over me, his eyes narrow and his tone taking me right back to an intense scolding I received as a child. The memory of that is enough to make me immediately sit down on the couch in his office and clasp my hands in my lap.
He coughs softly, bringing a tissue to his mouth while he walks toward the drinks cart. I wince inwardly as he pours a drink and clears it in one gulp.
“You’re distracted.”
“Hm? No, I’m not.”
“Yes, Aerin. You are.”
I swallow back my second denial and grit my teeth. I’ve spent the past week in a blur. Three fancy dinners, a dress rehearsal at the church Mom’s booked for the wedding, and more dress fittings that I can bear to stand, all while Falco has been growing quieter and quieter around me.
He’s closing down.
