Chapter 44 Nina #2
“No.” I sink onto the edge of the bed. Nikita immediately climbs into my lap, a warm, purring weight. “Chris is gone. He left last night—his phone’s off and we don’t know where he is.”
In a sharper tone she asks, “What happened?”
“I can’t get into it right now. But I need you and Mason to keep an eye out. If he shows up at your place, or if you hear anything, let me know.”
“Absolutely. Do you want Mason to start looking?”
“Lucia’s already on it. I just need more eyes.”
“Done.” Another pause. “Nina, is he okay? I mean, mentally?”
I think of Wyatt’s bruised throat. Of Chris fleeing into the night, convinced he’s become the monster Vicente made him. Of Wyatt’s fear, the same fear I’m pushing down so I can function, the fear that Chris might not want to come back.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
After we hang up, I stare at my phone for a long moment. There’s one more person who might be able to find Chris. Someone who understands the world he moves in.
The shower’s still running. I slip down the hall to my office and wake up my computer, pulling up Chris’s handler file on Tatiana. Her burner number is listed under emergency contacts, a phone she keeps on her but rarely uses.
I type out a text before I can second-guess it.
NINA: This is Nina Palmer. Chris went off-grid last night. If you hear from him, please let me know he’s safe. Don’t tell anyone else I reached out.
I hit send and pocket my phone.
When Wyatt emerges from the shower, his hair damp and a regular t-shirt replacing the turtleneck, I’m standing at the kitchen window, watching the street. He looks marginally more human. The shower helped, or at least the privacy did.
He moves to stand beside me, following my gaze. The street is quiet. Normal. A neighbor walking their dog. A car pulling into a driveway three doors down.
“What are you looking for?”
“I don’t know. Whatever Lucia’s people missed.” I don’t turn from the window. “Someone was watching this house at two in the morning. Chris is out there somewhere, alone, thinking he’s a monster. And I’m standing here feeling useless.”
“You’re not useless. You’re the one holding this together.”
“Am I?” I finally turn to face him. “Because right now I’m angry and scared and trying very hard not to fall apart. I’m managing you because it’s easier than managing myself.”
His expression shifts. “Nina—”
“I should have been awake.” The words come out sharper than I intend.
“I should have been there. Maybe I could have—” I stop myself.
Exhale. “I know that’s not fair. I know I needed sleep.
But I hate that I was unconscious while everything fell apart.
That I didn’t make us talk first. I hate that you had to deal with that alone. ”
Wyatt reaches for me, his hand finding my elbow. “You being awake wouldn’t have changed what happened.”
“You don’t know that.” I pull my arm back, not harshly, but enough.
“The night of the wedding—when the three of us were together—I felt it. The way Chris kept coming back to me. Checking in. Like I was his anchor point whenever things got intense between you two.” I shake my head.
“Maybe if I’d been there, he would have had something to hold onto. Someone to keep him present.”
“Nina—”
“I’m not saying it’s your fault for not waking me. I’m saying I hate that I wasn’t there.” My voice cracks. I turn back to the window.
For a moment, neither of us speaks. Then Wyatt moves to stand beside me, his shoulder brushing mine.
“I want to be that for him too.” His voice is quiet.
Raw. “Not because I don’t want you there—I do.
But you said something before your surgery.
About Chris and me being each other’s boyfriends, not just yours.
And I want that. I’ve been falling for him since the wedding.
Maybe since he came home, if I’m being honest.” He exhales.
“Watching him fight so hard to reintegrate, to rebuild himself after everything—I’ve never seen anyone work that hard to come back to life.
And part of me thought if I could just be steady enough, patient enough, I could be someone he’d hold onto too. ”
I turn to look at him. “But?”
“But last night I failed him.” The words come out rough. “I saw him hesitate and I didn’t stop us.” He exhales. “And even if I’d done everything right—I don’t know if he can stay present with me. I don’t know if that’s because of what Vicente did to him, or because of who I am, or—”
“Because you’re a man?”
He shakes his head slowly. “Because I’m not you.”
The words hang there. Not jealousy—something sadder. The fear that we’ll only ever work in one configuration. That he’ll always need me as a bridge to reach Chris fully.
“Wyatt.” I take his hand. “Last night was a trauma response. You both made choices that led there—him pushing through a limit he’d stated, you not stopping after you saw him falter.
That doesn’t make either of you villains.
It makes you two people who didn’t fully understand what they were walking into. ”
“Then why won’t he answer the phone?”
“Because he thinks he hurt you. Because shame makes people hide.” I squeeze his hand. “Not because you weren’t enough.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, then nods. His hand stays in mine.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
I pull it out. Unknown number—but I recognize the format. Tatiana’s burner.
TATIANA: Found him. He’s in bad shape. Don’t come looking—I’ll handle it. Will update when I can.
I show Wyatt the screen. His face goes pale.
Neither of us says anything. There’s nothing to say.