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“Liam said⁠—”

“While I have a great deal of respect for Mr. Masters, and I’m sure he’d do exactly as promised, I have people who can work faster and are excellent at moving in the shadows. More importantly, we can ensure that nobody knows what happened to him. We can ensure that nobody cares.”

While I’m busy picking my jaw up from the plush patterned carpet, he adds, “The man threatened your niece’s safety, did he not? You can’t let that stand.”

“How did you…?” Did I mention the part about the pills Ella found earlier? I don’t remember now. I don’t think so. “Is this the sort of situation where I can quit the business, but I can’t ever really leave?”

Corvus only smiles. “The vast majority of my employees are very happy here. Do we have a deal?”

Do we?

There’s an unsettling buzz in the back of my brain. I’m not sure Corvus has even blinked once during this entire conversation. Something in his smile tells me I might very well be making a deal with the devil.

That’s what my mother would say. He’s offering exactly what I want.

He’s right, though. The senator threatened Ella’s safety. Every kid in her school, really.

I think of her smile, her two missing teeth. The way she lights up when she gets to pet a dog. This decision isn’t only about me. If I’m selling a piece of my soul to this guy, it’s worth what I’m protecting.

“We have a deal.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Dean

“Ready to start your new book? This one’s about zookeepers.”

Ella’s ready for bed and tucked in as I stretch out beside her with the book that came today. I ordered it at the suggestion of her new teacher, who picked up on the first day about Ella’s interest in animal stories.

My heart swells, feeling for once a measure of certainty that I made the right decision where my daughter is concerned. Right behind it though, that cold ache in my chest flares to life. It’s stronger than ever now. Because it was Mike who helped me, and he’s not here.

It’s been days and the pain hasn’t let up. Is this really for the best when his absence makes it difficult to breathe?

“Where’s Uncle Mike?”

Jeez. Is my daughter psychic now? “I don’t know, baby. He’s probably working.”

“But it’s Tuesday. Usually he tucks me in on Tuesdays.”

“I know.” There’s a chill down my back, even as a bead of sweat slides down the back of my neck. How do I explain this to a six-year-old when I’m still not sure how to explain it to myself? “I want to put you to bed more often, kiddo. And spend more time together. I got a new job, which will hopefully let me work more during the day and less at night. So Uncle Mike won’t need to be here as much.”

When I go over our last fight, which happens at least a few times a day, I can’t quite make sense of whose fault it is that Mike isn’t coming around. Yes, I told him I needed to take a step back. I was worried and exhausted and confused about my feelings. But didn’t he also more or less tell me I was on my own?

As the days pass, I’m less confused. For good or for bad, I think I’ve loved Mike for a long time. I’ve loved very few people in my life, so maybe that’s why I didn’t see it at first for what it was.

I keep thinking about the very first night he was there when I woke from a nightmare. Should’ve known it then, from how grateful I was to see his face. How every touch and command grounded me.

Now that I’ve got my answer, I don’t know what to do.

Ella’s my priority. Forever and always. Do I want to fill in the empty space that’s been inside me since Mike walked out of Ella’s hospital room? Of course. But I’ve lived the last six years with an ache I can’t get rid of. I’ve lived with that; I can live with this.

Can’t I?

Ella’s looking at me with wide eyes.

“Something wrong, princess?”

“Uncle Mike always does the voices.”