ONE
DEPARTURES AND DEAD AIR
TROY
The private terminal smelled like expensive leather and the kind of coffee that cost more than most people's weekly grocery budget. I hated that I noticed. Hated even more that the place was packed with familiar faces when I'd been counting on a quick, clean exit. Just grab my bag, nod at whoever was on shift, and disappear onto the tarmac before anyone could turn this into a thing.
Too late for that.
Adrian stood near the entrance with his arms crossed, dressed in the same dark suit he probably slept in, looking like he'd been waiting long enough to catalog every security cameraangle and exit route twice over. His expression gave away nothing, but the way his gaze landed on me and held said plenty. He knew. Of course he fucking knew. The man could read a situation faster than most people could finish a sentence, and I'd been walking around Ravenswood for the past week like a live wire looking for something to ground into.
Luka leaned against a pillar near the windows, all controlled stillness and that particular brand of patience that came from years of watching men fall apart and putting them back together with whatever pieces still worked. Ash stood beside him, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched. They were flying out with me, at least as far as New York. Business, Luka had said. Something about contacts and territory negotiations that needed handling in person. I didn't ask for details, didn't care. I just needed to get on a plane before the walls at Ravenswood closed in any tighter.
The rest of them had shown up anyway. Viktor and Sebastian stood off to one side, Viktor wearing his public face while Sebastian's hand rested near his hip like he couldn't quite help the contact. Dom and Cal hovered near the coffee station, radiating the kind of coupled energy that made single people nauseous. Dmitri sat in one of the leather chairs flipping through his phone, tattoos visible where his sleeves were pushed up, looking bored but ready to move if the situation required it. Ethan stood near the windows with his hands shoved in his pockets, looking younger than the rest of them and somehow more grounded at the same time.
“Didn't realize I rated a full sendoff,” I said, dropping my bag near the door. My voice came out sharper than I meant it to, irritation bleeding through. “What is this, a retirement party?”
“You wish,” Dom shot back without looking up from his coffee. “Retirement means we don't have to put up with your bullshit anymore.”
“Please. You'd miss me.”
“Like a migraine.”
Cal's mouth twitched. “He would, actually. He complains about you constantly.”
“That's love language,” Dom said flatly. “I don't waste energy complaining about people I don't care about.”
I snorted. “Touching. Really.”
Viktor's voice cut across the space, low and accented. “We have enough drama without you adding to it.”
Sebastian elbowed him. “Be nice.”
“I am being nice. Nice for me is not threatening violence before breakfast.”
“It's eleven in the morning.”
“Still before my breakfast.”
Adrian pushed off the wall and crossed toward me, his footsteps quiet on the polished floor. He stopped a few feet away, close enough to talk without the others hearing, far enough to give me room. The man understood proximity like other people understood breathing.
“You don't have to explain,” he said quietly. His eyes were dark, unreadable, but there was weight behind them. Understanding that sat heavier than judgment. “Just needed to see you off.”
“I'm not leaving for good,” I said. Defensive. Hated how it sounded coming out of my mouth. “Luka made that clear.”
“I know.”
“Then what's with the farewell committee?”
Adrian's expression didn't change, but his gaze softened just slightly. “People care about you, Troy. Whether you like it or not.”
I looked away, stared at the tarmac through the windows where the plane waited. Escape sitting on a runway. “Yeah, well. I didn't ask them to.”
“You never do.” He paused. “Go say your goodbyes. They showed up for a reason.”
I walked over to where the others were clustered, shoulders tight, jaw tighter.
Noah intercepted me first. “Got you something,” he said, holding out a small first aid kit. The good kind, compact but comprehensive.
