Whisper: Send me the details. How much time do I have?
Me: Whatever you got, I’ll take. My target took off and I need a direction.
Whisper: You got it.
I turn to Bouche. “Whisper is on it. He’ll check the interstate cameras so we know which way Boone went.”
“How the fuck does he do that?”
“Whisper hasn’t met a system he can’t hack into yet. Comes in handy.”
“I bet,” he grumbles.
We sit in silence in the cold parking lot, the tension between us growing. My hole is still throbbing, which almost makes me smile. At least I’ll remember this.
“I don’t fucking know what to do,” Bouche says after a few minutes, his voice cracking. “I don’t know what to do. I always know what to do, but not this time. He’s gonna fucking die and I can’t do anything to stop it. I failed my mom. I failedhim.”
“No.” I turn in my seat to face him. “No, Bouche. You didn’t fail him or your mom. You keep showing up, keep trying to help. That’s not a failure, no matter the outcome.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Maybe it is, but it’s also true. He knows you love him. He saw what you were willing to do tonight to help. That’s why he left. Because he loves you, and he doesn’t want you to be hurt.”
“He’s still hurting me. He hurts me nearly every day of this fucking life.”
“But he thinks this hurt is better than the other kind.” Taking a chance, I pull Bouche’s hand into mine, and he doesn’t tugaway. “You’ve carried the weight of your whole family and your team’s outcomes on your shoulders, and it’s heavy. You can put it down for a little while. I’ve got you.”
He lifts his shattered gaze to mine, and I expect him to pull away and tell me he hates me again or that he can’t trust me, but that’s not what happens. Instead, he falls into my arms, presses his forehead to my shoulder, and sobs.
This big, beautiful man falls apart, and I hold him quietly while he does. I’d bet money that he’s never let his feelings out like this. I wrap my arms tighter around him, stroking his hair and rocking slightly, and he cries until he’s completely drained. Eventually he slumps against me, sniffing and blowing out a breath.
As he sits back, he wipes the tears from his cheeks. “Um, thanks. I guess I needed that.”
“You did.”
He chuckles darkly. “I think I’ve been holding that in since my mom died. I can’t handle losing Boone too.”
“You can handle it. You’re so fucking strong, but I hope you don’t have to. I’m gonna do what I can to make sure you don’t.”
“Why? Wouldn’t it be easier to walk away?”
“Sure it would, if I was capable of that. I would’ve been a few weeks ago, but not now. I’m invested, and not just because I had a hand in it. It’s because I know you.”
“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “Don’t make this harder. This is so fucked up.”
“It is.” Before I can continue, I’m interrupted by my phone buzzing.
Whisper: Found the car at a gas station thirty miles north of where you are right now. Do you need backup?
Me: Nah, man. I’m good. Thanks for getting on it so fast.
Whisper: It’s what I do.
Turning to Bouche, I gently touch his thigh. “He’s heading north.”
“North?” Bouche exhales. “Oh. I think I know where he’s going.”
“Then let’s go. He’s got a head start on us.”
Bouche nods, starting the car, but then he pauses and looks down at his lap. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
As he pulls out of the parking lot, I lean against the door, my thoughts pure chaos. I have to figure this out and somehow tell Shadow I went rogue. Fuck, I hope everything Boone told us is true. That’s the only shot I have at getting Shadow to understand.
If he’s wrong, I’m fucked and so is Boone.
