“You never told anyone else you lost the baby?”

“No. Just my parents. I’m sure Kevin assumed I had an abortion. I never cared to talk to him again. And Evie…I’ve thought about telling her so many times, it’s just—as time passed it seemed harder to do. And now. Now I just think it would bring her pain. I can’t put that on her. So besides my therapist in Colorado and the one here, no, I’ve never shared that with anyone else.” This surprises me. Evie and Kate are so close. And Kate is the star of the show. With the many friends that surround her, I’m shocked she’s never told.

“How does that make you feel?”

“Alone. So alone.” Another tear drops and I reach out to touch her face. She leans her cheek into my touch. “I’m the only person who grieves my baby. Who remembers. Just because I never got to hold my child doesn’t mean I don’t love my baby, that she or he didn’t matter.”

“I’m sorry, Kate. Sorry you had to deal with all that alone. You don’t have to carry it alone anymore. I’ll carry it with you.” I pull her to me once more. I feel her body stiffen a second before she relaxes into my embrace. I won’t let her down. I’ll cherish this knowledge. She won’t have to go it alone any longer.

IT FEELS GOOD TO SHARE this with another person—someone I didn’t pay to sit and listen to my troubles. I don’t think I realized how much I needed this until now. Jon holds me and I feel safe, loved, at peace. Something nags in the back of my brain, though. What was my father doing in that club? What kind of case was Jon working? Did Jon know my dad would be there? Is that why he wanted to me to stay in the truck?

I pull back. I need to watch his reaction. The words tumble from my lips.

“Why were you at that club tonight?” His eyes sharpen and he returns my stare.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss.”

“Jon,” I warn, and allow anger to seep into my voice.

“Look. I can’t say why I was there tonight,” he bites out. He has the decency to look apologetic. What’s so important he can’t tell me the truth after I just gutted myself for him? I steady my voice, will myself to be patient.

“Can you tell me anything about my father?” Jon runs his hands over his scalp, releasing a breath.

“Yes. Look Kate, hear me out before you make any judgments.” This doesn’t sound promising. But I need to give him an opportunity to explain. I nod before I reply.

“Okay.”

He watches my face closely and the silence stretches between us. He finally speaks, voice calm and even.

“Your mom hired me two weeks ago to look into your father.”

“What? And you never thought to tell me?” I can’t help the anxiety and doubt that creep inside. He’s been working with my mom. I feel sick.

“Hear me out. She asked for my help with full discretion. She didn’t want Evie involved, either. I was curious, okay? I wanted to know whether I could figure out why you didn’t speak to them anymore. It was only a job, okay?” I shake my head.

“No. Not okay.” He scoots back an inch.

“After what you told me tonight and what I saw at the club, I’m returning your mom’s money. I’m letting her know tomorrow that I’m unable to do the job. That it crossed into what I was hired to do with Scottsdale PD.” His calculating gaze finds my own.

“And what’s that, exactly?”

“Kate, the stuff your dad’s involved in, it’s bad. Really bad. I was hired to do some surveillance for a suspected drug ring. I’m not even allowed to say that much, but I think you should know. He’s in some deep shit, Kate.”

“Yeah. I saw. I was there, remember,” I bite out. I still can’t believe he was working for my mother and never told me. I feel betrayed. Jon’s eyes harden. They pin me with a glare.

“Yes, and why the hell didn’t you stay in the truck like I asked?”

“You were taking too long. I thought I’d come find you.” Flipping my ponytail to the side, I play with the strands.

“I asked you to stay, though. Why do you always have to be so damn difficult? Seeing you with your dad, I lost my mind. I didn’t even think about how my actions would look. I put the undercover cop in danger. I put you in danger.” He clenches his fists and the vein at his neck throbs. He’s right, I should ’ve stayed like he asked. I didn’t know the danger I was walking into. I reach out to where his hand is still in a tight fist and lay mine over it.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

His eyes snap to my own, brows rise. “I’m right?”

A smirk pulls at my face. “Yeah, but don’t get used to it.” He laughs. “I should have listened to you. But you didn’t have to go and lose control just because my dad was spouting hurtful words.” His brows knit and he studies his hands.

“I don’t know. Seeing you there and hearing the words, I just snapped.” He shakes his head. An unease settles. That’s not like Jon. He doesn’t just anything. He’s in control, calculating. Always. If he hits someone it’s because he planned to or it’s in self-defense.

“Jon, I like that you want to protect me, but you can’t go hitting people or inanimate objects every time you’re angry. I get that you’re a trained killing machine, but recently something has changed. You’re not the type to fly off the handle.”

“Yeah, I feel out of control. I don’t like it.” I think back over the weeks and I’m certain this has to do with Will’s death. I don’t know if Jon’s going to like what I have to say, but I’m saying it anyway.

“Maybe you should talk to someone. Like a professional? I know I’m not perfect, but until I got help I couldn’t get out of the anger stage of grief. Not that I don’t get angry or sad anymore, but it’s not so out of control. I have my coping mechanisms—”

“You can’t run to a yoga mat every time shit hits the fan, Kate,” Jon bites out. It’s harsh. His shoulders square and he pulls his hands back behind him.

“Well you can’t put your fist through everything you don’t like.” Jon stands and walks to the door. I scramble to follow him, but as soon as I’m standing he halts in the doorway.

“Thanks for your concern, Kate, but I’m handling things.” I have to hold back a scoff. “I’ve got some calls to make. Get some rest.” He’s yet to meet my eyes and it angers me that this is how he’s going to walk away. A part of me longs to be held, to feel safe in his arms for the night, but I’m not going to ask for that. Especially when he’s not offering.

“Goodnight, Jon.” I walk to the doorway and let the door click shut behind me. His rough murmurs float down the hallway. He’s talking to the detective. I’m exhausted so I stumble to my bed and pull the covers around my body. I don’t even bother to wash my face or change my clothes before I give in to the pull of sleep.

“Kate, what are you doing?”

After waking and taking a shower this morning I found a voicemail from my super. The building was cleared by the state and I can move back anytime. A wave of disappointment hit first, followed by fear, then they settled into determination. I’m moving back today. My first reaction is to want to stay with Jon, but that’s not an option. I won’t let myself go there. It’s time to get the hell out.

“Oh, I’m packing.” I look up from the box into which I’m carefully placing my precious collection of Louboutins, Choos, and Valentinos. I paste on my perfect smile, the one that says everything is okay even when it’s not. He raises one eyebrow.

“I see that.”

“Okay, then.” I shrug, flip my hair, and go back to the task at hand. I stand and add the box to the others at the foot of Evie’s bed. After grabbing an empty duffle I move to the dresser and throw in my unmentionables.