Page 127 of Hard Pass

Then he finally glances over his shoulder, expression tighter now. Controlled. “Send me the article when it drops,” he says. “I want to see exactly what we’re dealing with.”

We.

Cole opens the door and just before he steps out, he adds, quieter, “For what it’s worth, I don’t regret it.”

My throat tightens because that’s the one truth I didn’t let myself say.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Dublin

I refresh my Google search and still nothing, so I open my contacts list instead.

My mom answers on the second ring. “Hi, sweetheart. A call instead of a text? Should I feel special?”

The sound of her voice almost undoes me. I’ve held so strong all day, and I refuse to let it break me.

But fuck, it definitely tests me.

“Hey,” I say and try to keep my voice steady.

There’s a pause. “What happened?” My mom knows me too well.

Leave it to my mom to notice right away. I close my eyes for a beat. “So, there’s a story about to come out any minute. It’s not going to paint me in the best of lights.”

“Put me on speaker,” my dad’s muffled voice says in the background. There’s some mumbling but within seconds his voice comes clearer. “What kind of story, Buggie?”

“The kind where my professional judgment will probably be questioned.” I swallow hard. “And where I’m going to look irresponsible.”

They don’t respond and I’m not sure if I appreciate or loathe the silence that follows.

“I crossed a line during my current investigation. Nothing illegal. Nothing unethical in terms of the actual case work. But optics-wise?” I emit a humorous laugh. “It’s not going to look great.”

“Honey,” my mom says softly.

“I just . . .” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry if this embarrasses you guys.”

“Nonsense.”

“But I was in the wrong, Mom. I . . . I got involved with the player.” My chest aches.

“Okay. It happens. And not to sound cliché, but these things pass,” she says. “People talk and then they move on to the next thing. That’s how the world works.”

“And we’re proud of you,” my dad adds. “Always. Regardless.”

I laugh weakly. “You might want to wait until after we read the article before committing to that.”

“No chance,” he says immediately. “And I lost my readers, so I probably won’t even read it.”

I chuckle but tears sting my eyes.

My dad falls quiet for a second before cautiously asking, “Was he worth it, Buggie?”

The raw honesty in his question catches me completely off guard.

“I don’t know,” I whisper.

His soft chuckle comes through the line. “That usually means yes.”