This would be the hardest conversation of his entire life. Worse than any interrogation he’d ever suffered, a debriefing after a failed mission, or an inquiry into his behavior.
When he felt he’d buried his emotions as deep as possible, he followed her inside the house, making sure to close the door and lock it behind him.
She sat on the antique couch, a fuzzy blanket pulled over her. A binder and stacks of what looked like haphazard papers fanned out on the floor, along with pens, highlighters, pencils, her tablet, sticky notes, and every other office supply known to man. There was also a full trash can and an empty tissue box in the mix. Perhaps the most telling item was the unopened box of snack cakes.
“Kubrick—” His voice cracked. He swallowed, then tried again. “Kubrick, I?—”
She lifted the blanket off the sofa next to her and tipped her head, signaling he should sit next to her. Uncertain he should, but unwilling to ignore her, he sat at her side. She dropped the blanket over him, put an arm around his shoulder, and pulled him into her.
Tears welled in his eyes as she tucked his head into the crook of her neck.
Kubrick was always so strong. She’d lost her family at a young age. Spent almost her entire career fighting against the misogyny of the Hollywood machine, including a producer who hated her. Lost her adopted brother, her last remaining family member, who was still out there, missing and in danger. Shot and killed a man who attacked her.
Now this.
How much more could she take?
“I’m—”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” she hissed. “You will bring him back to me. I know it.”
9
AUGUST 21, 2024
Steel
Yesterday,he sat with Kubrick for hours, until she sent him back to the office to meet with the rest of the team for the mission to save her partner’s life.
Now, he watched from the parking lot as his wife dashed from the front door of the memory care center to her car, wiping away tears. She’d always had a tender heart for hismadre. She might be badass otherwise, but when it came to someone she loved, she could show a softer side.
Was he destined to destroy every female’s life he touched?
“You just gonna sit there?” Medusa asked him.
Well, probably not Medusa’s life.
“I need a minute.”
Everyone in the vehicle was silent, except for Scheherazade. She was doing her little doggy panting, a sign she knewsomeone was stressed. Every few seconds, she would look at him, then back at her handler, as if asking, “Are you okay? Is he okay? Work now?”
He closed his eyes, centering his thoughts on what he expected to see. Perfectly dressed. Hair pulled back into a smooth, tight bun. Sitting in her straight-backed chair, eyes staring at her stories on the television. Maybe her rosary in her hands, her lips moving in prayer, the only words she seemed to remember.
He opened his eyes and reached for the door handle. “I’ll be back in ten.”
Demon grabbed his shoulder as he moved to leave the vehicle. “Take your time, mate.”
Take his time. How long did one stay with a woman who didn’t remember him? Hadn’t remembered him for almost a decade? A woman he would likely never see again.
After jogging to a delivery entrance, he knocked on the door, and it opened, revealing a six-foot-four, two-hundred-twenty-pound man with military-cropped hair and enough muscles he could probably deadlift a moose. “Gracias,” Steel whispered.
“De nada.”
“How is she?”
“Same. We’re starting to see some anger from her, but that’s likely due to the change in environment. There have been no outbursts yet today. Daleyza was just here, so that probably helped.”
“Yes, I saw her leave.”
