Chapter 9
WHAT COMES NEXT?
DOMINIC
When I get home, I reach for a Macallan twelve—partly to erase the taste of Islay smoke, that peat-heavy punishment I swallowed in Director Han’s office, and partly because I need the crutch.
Tonight isn’t about savoring anything. It’s about dulling the edges.
I chose Enya, and I’ll own whatever comes next.
But I fear that what comes next is me alone. No job. No clearance. No woman. No purpose that comes with a badge or a mission brief. Just silence where there used to be structure.
I pour a finger of the amber liquid into a glass, and down it like a shot. It burns.
I couldn’t go to her as a special agent. Showing up with one foot still planted in that world would’ve been cowardice disguised as compromise. Hedging my bets. Keeping an exit strategy. Telling myself I chose her while still holding on to the thing that broke her in the first place.
She deserves more than that. I do, too.
I set the glass down and stare at the wall, at nothing, at the shape my life has taken in the absence of orders. There’s no op to plan, no cover to maintain, no future already mapped out in classified files.
All I have are consequences that I must live with, one of them being a woman who may never forgive me.
I refill the glass and take a long sip.
I have no playbook, no training on how to win her back or how to manage my life now that I’m not running. I have to get used to this feeling of having stepped off a moving train. I’ve been in motion my entire adult life, and now…I’m not.
I look around at my apartment—one I got because it’s close to her. This isn’t my cover apartment. That was another place—one I could take her to. One with surveillance. No, this one is mine. Temporary, but mine, and I can see the corner of her street if I lean out my kitchen window.
Pathetic.
A sharp knock breaks the silence.
I know who it is, which is why I don’t want to open the door. Every instinct I have says to let the knock go unanswered, to sit here with my drink and my regret. But I get up anyway.
Part of it is respect. The rest of it is a necessity. Some stories don’t end on their own—you have to kill them intentionally.
I open the door and step aside to let Kiera in. She’s still in her all-black power suit, looking like she walked off a government recruitment poster.
“You’re an idiot,” she says by way of greeting.
“Nice to see you, too.”
She glares at me, her hands on her waist. “You quit? Without warning? Without a debrief? You just walked?”
“I gave Director Han plenty of warning.” All three hours of it, and she behaved with more grace than Kiera is.
She narrows her eyes. “Because of her.”
I frown. “Her who?”
“Cut it out, Dom,” she snaps, as she takes two steps closer, her perfume—sharp, expensive—fills the space between us. “You’re throwing away a career most people would kill for.”
“Kill being the operative word.”
The corners of her eyes twitch in exasperation. “Oh, please! What, you’ve gotten moral clarity after fifteen years?”
Then she reaches out and touches my chest—pressing her palm flat, sliding it up toward my shoulder.
I step away and find my place on the couch again. I pick up my glass. I don’t offer her a drink.
“Dom—”
“Why are you here?”
She rushes up to me and sits next to me. “You know why.”
I raise my glass. “No, I don’t.”
“Come on, Dom,” she murmurs. “You and I…we’re the same person.”
“Let’s agree to disagree.”
She lets out a long, elaborate sigh. It’s a tad dramatic. “Are you really going to ruin your life for a woman who most probably won’t touch you with a ten-foot pole?”
I take a long sip and murmur my appreciation…for the scotch.
“Dom, are you listening to me?” she cries out.
“At that volume, Kiera, my whole building is listening to you.”
Her eyes flash with anger. “People like us don’t have normal lives, Dom. We don’t walk off into the sunset.”
“First, this is none of your business. Second…guess what, Kiera, still none of your business.”
She lets out a bitter laugh. “So…after all the time we’ve spent together, this is…this is it?”
“Yeah. This is it.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t do this.”
“It’s done,” I say implacably. “Kiera, time for you to go and…don’t come back.”
Her composure fractures. But this is what leaving is, and she knows it.
We aren’t in the business where former colleagues meet for drinks and reminisce. The moment I lose my security clearance, the rules change. I don’t talk to them—and they don’t talk to me. Not casually. Not privately. Not at all.
That’s the cost of this life.
“Dom—”
“Goodbye.”
She takes her time like it’s an effort to walk to my door. I hear the click of it opening.
“You were the best operative we had. Now look at you. You’ve become weak.”
With that closing shot, she slams the door behind her.
My phone rings, and I groan.
Damn, but I’m popular today!
It’s my brother-in-law, and when either he or Daisy calls, I always pick up. “Kai okay?”
“Yeah, he’s dandy, using Hector like a jungle gym.”
Hector used to work for Forest’s family, but now he’s sort of retired, lives in their pool house, and is Kai’s surrogate grandfather.
“What’s up?”
“Heard you quit your job today.”
“Heard?”
“The grapevine,” he explains.
“Didn’t think I’d be juicy enough to hit the vine.”
He ignored my comment. “Daisy is on a shoot in Tibet and has shitty service, so she asked me to call you and babysit.”
I let out a laugh. “Babysit?”
“What the fuck else?” Forest is obviously enjoying himself. “She said you’re in love and need handholding.”
“Go fuck yourself, Forest.”
“Look, man, you’re not the first moron to fuck up his life by screwing up with the woman you love.”
“No, I remember, vividly, you did that.”
Forest chuckles. “Yeah, but who’s got the girl now, and who’s drinking scotch?”
I look at my glass quizzically. “How do you know I’m drinking scotch?”
“Macallan twelve. It’s your go-to when the shit hits the fan.”
He knows me well. “Fair.”
“Dom, buddy, we’re proud of you,” he says somberly. “You’re an idiot, but I gotta give kudos where due. I didn’t think you’d quit for a woman. Daisy did. Said it was time.”
“It was,” I agree.
“So…you love this florist?”
Of course, he knows who Enya is. He has the connections, and Forest doesn’t hesitate to use them to protect his family.
“Yeah,” I breathe. “I do.”
“Then grow a pair and go get her.”
“Is that your legal advice?” I quip. “And just for your information, I got a pair. Bigger than yours.”
“That’s my man advice,” he says dryly. “Legal advice is, ‘don’t stalk her from an apartment she doesn’t know you rent.’ And…buddy, your cojones are not bigger than mine.”
I groan. “Are you spying on me?”
“Yeah.” No hesitation or remorse. “Daisy is worried about you. You know I don’t like it when she’s upset. So, I had to.”
“That’s a dumb reason.”
“Hey, I know it’s a cliché, but happy wife, happy life is a mantra every married man must live by.”
I sigh.
“What if she doesn’t forgive me? What I did…is pretty unforgivable, Forest.”
“It is,” he agrees. “But, dude, women don’t want a perfect man. They want an honest one.”
“I’ve been lying to her for—”
“The past is gone, brother. You gotta live in the now. Be truthful now. Tell her how you feel, and do it knowing that she may knee you in your small nuts.”
“Fuck you,” I mutter. “I need a plan.”
“I can help.”
“Yeah, right. Didn’t you once flood Daisy’s house so she’d move in with you?”
“I did,” he replies proudly. “And now she lives with me, sleeps in my bed, and tells me she loves me, every fucking day. So, you want my help or not?”
“Fine, whatever. I’m going to regret this one way or the other.”
“That’s the spirit,” Forest says gleefully.