I go to his office and don’t knock.
His gaze finds me the moment I enter, and a flicker moves across his face.
“I need your help.” I hold out my phone, and he takes it.
His face doesn’t change as he reads the message.
“When did this come in?”
“About an hour ago.”
He sets the phone on his desk and leans back. “Don’t worry about it.”
I stare at him. “Maren doesn’t know everything that?—”
“I know.”
“She’s filing police reports, which isn’t going to?—”
“I know.”
“Rolan.” My voice comes out ragged. “That’s my best friend. She’s been my best friend since I was eighteen years old, and she’s being threatened because of me. Because ofmysituation. And you’re telling me not to?—”
“I will take care of it.”
“What does thatmean?”
He reaches me, his pale eyes steady. His hand raises to hold my chin.
“It means,” he says, “that Landon Webb is not going to touch your friend.” He pauses. “It means you don’t have to fix this.”
You don’t have to fix this.
I’ve been fixing things since I was nineteen.
Since my father called from a casino in Atlantic City, and I wired him money from my student loan, starting the sequence that ended in a five-hundred-thousand-dollar debt.
I have been fixing, absorbing, and standing in front of damage so it doesn’t reach the people behind me, and I’m tired. His eyes are asking me to put the shield down and let him step in.
“Okay,” I mutter.
He stares at me for a moment longer.
“Go to bed,” he softly commands. “I’ll be there soon.”
I nod and walk back into his room —his room, which has quietly becomeour room— and sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the dark window.
The danger doesn’t leave. I chose to trust him, and I believe what he said, but the feeling remains — the cold of knowing someone you love is in proximity to sharp edges and not being the one to rush in and save them.
I lie back on the bed and wait.
25
ROLAN
“You wanted to see me?”
Dmitri appears in the doorway of the office.
