A different air hung about him from the last time I’d seen him. He was looser, calmer, and—to my great relief—void of the telltale weapon bulge at his hip. He wore jeans and a tee with a light windbreaker over it. A slim folder was tucked under his arm.
I watched him approach without saying anything, but that was mostly because my mouth had sealed shut with anxiety.
Bray stopped at the end of the table and held out his hand to let Buster sniff it.
The little traitor sniffed him once before lapping him with his tongue.
“Who’s this?” Bray asked with a laugh.
“Buster,” I said. “He’ll bite you if I tell him to,” I lied.
“Oh, I doubt that. You wouldn’t bite me, would you, buddy? No, you wouldn’t,” he cooed, and leaned down to scrub his ears. Buster responded by licking Bray’s face and pawing at his legs.
“Some guard dog you are,” I muttered and pulled on his leash.
Bray gave him a pat on the head and slid onto the bench across from me. He folded his hands on the table and studied me like I’d been studying my book. “You know, you should have picked a less obvious name if you didn’t want me to find you, Katherine Wallace,” he said. I could hear the pride in his voice. The triumph that he’d pieced together my new identity and tracked me down, even if it took him over a year. He knewmy mother’s name was Katherine because I’d told him as much that night in Houston. And through it all, Agent Wallace was more of a father than my own ever was, so taking his name felt right.
I stuck my pen into my book and folded my hands to match his. “Maybe I wanted you to find me.” I couldn’t fight the upward bend in my lips, despite still not being sure what his intentions were.
In truth, I’d longed for this moment. I’d been looking over my shoulder since that night on the bridge, hoping I’d see him there. Hoping he would find me, and we’d sort out what to make of our messy lives together.
And here he was.
“So, are you here to arrest me?” I asked.
To my relief, he shook his head. “No. I’m here to ask you on a date. Well, I have something to give you first, and depending on how that goes, then I’ll ask you out.”
The sudden buoyancy in my chest could have floated me off like a balloon. “Consider my interest piqued, Agent Bray.”
“You don’t have to call me that anymore,” he said.
“Oh? Why not?”
“Because I quit.”
At this, I reeled. “You quit the DSA?”
A flush curled into his face. “Well, I guess if we want to get technical, I wasrelieved of duty.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. See, I fell in love with a CI and spent the better part of a year using DSA resources trying to find her when she disappeared. Apparently, that’s frowned upon.”
I shyly laughed, feeling my heart lift once more. “I can’t imagine why, you absolute rebel.”
“DSA regulations, what are you gonna do? And I never really liked that job anyway. I just did it out of some warped familial obligation I’ve been seeing a therapist about,” he said,and I could sense the relief in his words, even if he was pretending to be blasé about it. The freedom he felt now that he was on a different path. “But the good news is, I eventually found that CI, and before they gave me the boot, I managed to do one last thing.” He pulled the folder from under his arm and placed it on the table. “I know you’ve built the life you want here. You’ve got the apartment, the dog.” He nodded down at Buster, who’d returned to leaning against my leg. “You’re enrolled in classes you like. I can’t say much about your dating life, but I’m hoping your calendar is still open?” His voice rose to a comical pitch as he lifted his brows.
“It is,” I confirmed with a laugh.
He let out a dramatic sigh of relief and opened the folder. “Good. Then all that’s left is your freedom. Officially.” He slid it across the table with a smile.
I had no idea what he was handing me, but my heart stilled when I saw my name—real name—inked into an official-looking document. I spun the folder around to read the form right side up.
“Congratulations, you’re dead,” he said with another grin.
My eyes scanned the document in disbelief.
“Well, Erin Daniels is dead,” he added.
