Chapter 7 #3
“I wish we could, Cortés, but sadly, it’s just not feasible,” Chief replies with a sigh.
“We’re holding a press conference at 4 PM.
I need you there and ready to answer whatever questions we can.
Understood?” Oh, I understand. O’Connor can play at being a key decision-maker, but we both know the only reason the FBI is giving him as much leeway as they are is to lighten their load so they focus on the meat of the investigation.
“Yes, sir.”
I end the call and check the time. It’s barely noon, so I’ve got a few hours to figure out my next course of action.
I made promises to Andi I shouldn’t have, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do everything in my power to keep them.
Making a quick stop by her hospital room, I let her know I need to step away for a bit, but I won’t be long.
It’s impossible to miss the apprehensive look in her eyes, but the only way to prove myself is through my actions.
I refuse to be another person in her life who goes back on their word and abandons her when she needs them the most. For once in her life, Andi deserves to have someone in her corner, putting her best interest ahead of their own.
I speed across town, blessedly avoiding any traffic.
With no time to brainstorm a better alternative, I’ve decided to run with the first feasible option I could come up with: I’m going to give Andi my place for the time being.
I’ll swing by as often as I can so it appears she has some form of security, but it won’t be easy given my heavy workload.
Before any of this can happen, I need to rid the spare bedroom of my stalker-level obsessiveness.
For one, I don’t want her knowing this is my apartment.
She’d likely decline my invitation to stay here, and it would only make me worry more if she were someplace the public could access.
And second, the last thing Andi needs is a constant reminder of everything Veritas has done.
These facts are a part of her now, and certainly don’t require reference material for her to recall them.
“Hey, man. You home?” Colsen calls out.
“Back here,” I shout in reply, hurriedly pulling my work from the walls. I’ve already been gone too long, and the itch beneath my skin is growing more persistent the longer Andi is out of my sight.
“Uh…” Col stops short, watching me race around the room like a chicken with its head cut off.
“What the hell are you doing?” I’m sure this looks suspicious, me carelessly ripping away the information I’ve spent a painstaking amount of time curating, but I don’t have the time, nor the energy, it would require to explain my thought process and how I concluded that Andi should live here for the foreseeable future.
“You know what? Who gives a fuck. Just tell me you guys have her.” I pause, the strain in Col’s tone causing me to glance in his direction.
He clearly hasn’t slept, not that I can blame him.
I smile in response, knowing that’s the best I can offer without blatantly disregarding the oath I took.
His shoulders sag, relief pouring off of him so potently I can practically taste it.
“Briggs?” I question, going back to the task at hand and hoping the subject change will be enough to dissuade him from prying any further.
“Nothing.” Col sighs in dismay.
“I know you were hoping to avoid reaching out to his therapist, but maybe it’s time.” I shove a stack of papers into an empty package box I never bothered throwing out. “Maybe file a missing person’s report?” I tack on, knowing how quickly things can take a turn for the worse.
“You’re right, but this isn’t the first time Briggs has pulled some shit like this.
If we jump the gun and I tattle to his shrink, only for him to show up hours later without a scratch on him, he’s going to make our lives a living hell.
It’s a fine line with him—he needs us to care, but not too much.
As it stands, I’m half convinced the only reason he’s still hanging around is that he doesn’t have anywhere else to go.
So maybe something better came along, and this is it–no see-ya-later or goodbye hugs for us,” he chuckles halfheartedly, but we both know he’d be wrecked if there was never any closure with their friendship.
“Or…” I pause for emphasis. “He could be lying in a ditch somewhere, knocking on death’s door.”
“Shit,” Colsen swears, his brows drawing together, as if the image I’ve painted pains him to think about.
“Look,” I placate, pausing my shoddy attempt at packing to give him my full attention.
“You’re likely right, and this is nothing more than a bender he’s taken too far.
But on the off chance it’s not, I’d hate for you and Dayton to be eaten up with guilt because you didn’t intervene sooner.
It happens all too often, especially when it’s an adult at the helm of the disappearing act.
We should be allowed to fall off the face of the earth and not have a BOLO sent out, but to what extent?
You know him, so trust your judgment and do whatever you think is best.”
“I’ll give it a few more days, but if we haven’t heard anything by the end of the week, I’ll make the call,” Col compromises.
“Back to you…” he starts, but I quickly cut him off with a pointed look to drop it.
I know he respects me too much to purposely put me in a compromising position, but I can also appreciate that his own need for answers is bearing down on him.
He lifts his hands in supplication, a silent understanding passing between us that if there were something urgent he needed to be aware of before the rest of the public, I wouldn’t hesitate to tell him, consequences be damned.