Stuffing the last of the papers inside, I cling to the folder, the familiar comfort that usually comes with the brief security a new identity offers never settling in my bones. Drawing another deep breath in through my nose, I shove down all of the fears that are simmering just beneath the surface, buying myself a few more seconds to pretend that I’m a functioning adult so I don’t embarrass myself again.
After a brief hesitation, I withdraw my phone and pass it to Stone. "We should probably make sure that we have a way to get in touch with each other. You know, in case you're being axe-murdered in your sleep and want to give me a heads up."
He holds my gaze for several heavy heartbeats, countless questions in his multi-colored eyes. Freeing me from the spell, he dips his head to focus on the screen, adding his number into my phone without asking a single one of them. “If that happens, I’ll goad him into drawing out my death so that you have a chance to do something fun and go out with a bang.”
He returns my phone, and I nearly pocket it before listening to my gut and walking up to Kodiak, offering it his way. “Might as well put yours in there, too, since you've been st-” instantly, I bite my tongue. After being legitimately stalked for so long, I can't bring myself to lump the two of them together. “Since you've been on watch detail.” While he does so, I risk a quick glance back at Stone. “Kind of a dick move, by the way. Using your legion to break the ice instead of telling me yourself in the first place. For all you know, I could have had plans to go skydiving last week and killed us both, never any the wiser.”
A lock of his white hair falls in his face, framing his wry smile. “Would you forgive me if I owned up to the fact that I was too busy spiraling to think clearly?”
“Only if you pretend the same news didn’t throw me into a panic attack.” Tucking my phone away and clutching the folder to my chest, I head for the exit. “Don’t forget to check if your brakes were cut before you leave town.”
Chapter 11
Amara
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Walking into the library, the sight of Kodiak’s empty booth only serves to make me more annoyed that his absence is throwing me off at all.
It’s not him, it’s because it’s a change in my routine. Like it or not, he was part of it since I took this job. All the more reason to abandon ship. I was getting too comfortable here.
Tongue in cheek, I navigate the library in search of Clara, everything I pass further souring my mood. I’m genuinely going to miss this place, and that sadness merges with my frustration. I knew better than to get attached. While I crave the soothing predictability of routine, I can’t afford it because it’s just that; predictable. It’s too easy to fall into patterns that anyone watching me could pick up on and take advantage of.
“Clara?”
The elderly woman glances over from where she’s reshelving a stack of books, a broad smile lighting up her face. “Amelia, dear, I didn’t realize you were scheduled for today. What a pleasant surprise.”
Wetting my chapped lips, the sad smile I pull on to get me through the familiar pitch is more genuine than it’s been in years. “I’m not, I just wanted to say goodbye. Something’s come up, and I’m going to have to go out of town indefinitely; family emergency. But I didn’t want to leave without a word and have you worried something awful happened to me. Or without letting you know that I’ve really loved working here and am more grateful than you can imagine for making it such a welcoming experience while it lasted.”
Her face falls into the expected frown, concern pulling down her eyebrows. “I’m so sorry to hear that, love.” She searches my face, as curious as people always are, but polite enough not to probe. Eventually, she offers her hand out palm up, waiting. Biting the inside of my cheek, I tentatively slide my gloved hand into hers.
There’s no risk in touching anyone but Kodiak and Raiden, anymore. I could lose the gloves altogether if I wanted. No need to be as hypervigilant in crowds, could actually risk doing a few things...
Stop. You’re talking about letting your guard down, Amara, and now more than ever you can’t afford to.
Curling her fingers, Clara sandwiches my hand between both of hers for a brief, reassuring squeeze before letting go completely. “None of my business, but just know that I’ve seen plenty of people in rough spots over the years. If you ever need an ear, I’ve heard that I'm a pretty good listener.” Rummaging around in her pocket, she retrieves a pen and pad of sticky notes, scribbling her name and number on one and passing it my way. “Take care of yourself, sweetheart.”
