Chapter Thirty-Three
Elise
Keaton didn’t wait for an invitation. The exact second I unlocked the deadbolt and stepped across the threshold, he surged into the apartment right behind us, the heavy front door shutting with a sharp, echoing slam that felt entirely too aggressive for the small space.
“Hi.” Brady offered his hand with that easy steadiness he carried even under pressure. Keaton stared at it like it offended him, then ignored it entirely, his gaze locked on me.
“You completely disappeared,” Keaton said, already moving deeper into my living room. His voice wasn’t at full volume yet, but the tension vibrated underneath it, dangerous and barely leashed. “Dad is losing his mind at the compound.”
I set my keys on the kitchen counter with deliberate care, buying myself a second. “I explicitly told you via text that I needed downtime.”
“That was before I found who you were spending time with,” he snapped.
The familiar suffocating weight pressed in around my chest. Brady stayed close, but he didn’t step in front of me. He let me decide how this played out in my own space.
“I can spend time with whomever I want to.”
Keaton’s jaw clenched. “You could not have chosen a worse time to do this.” Keaton cut his own sentence off and rounded on Brady. “Who are you working for?”
Brady answered calmly, without hesitation. “No one.”
Keaton’s laugh was short and bitter. “Don’t think I haven’t looked into you, Holliston.”
I moved to stand between them. “How much did Dad tell you?”
“Almost nothing,” Keaton growled. He turned back to me, and the questions came fast, each one tighter than the last. “But I’ve looked into what you’ve been up to lately.
Why did you change the security protocols on the old buildings, Elise?
Why bring him into protected areas? Is he blackmailing you? Filling your head with lies?”
So, he’s going into this as blindly as I was. I answered as steadily as I could, though frustration burned hotter with every word. “I haven’t shown him anything recent. I know what I’m doing.”
“Really,” Keaton shot back. “Listen, I know you’ve been lonely. I don’t blame you. But this ends now.”
His words landed like a slap. They reduced everything I felt for Brady to a weakness, a flaw in an otherwise reliable system.
My voice rose to match his. “You trust me with systems that can protect governments. You trust me to anticipate catastrophic failure. But the second I make a personal decision you don’t like, I’m suddenly a child who needs to be gathered home? ”
“Get your stuff, Elise,” Keaton interrupted, speaking over me. “We’ll talk about this—”
“Keaton.” Brady’s voice sliced through the rising heat. It wasn’t loud, but its calm weight brought everything to a halt. He shifted closer to me and his hand settled lightly at the small of my back. When I glanced up, his eyes were already on mine, the question clear and patient.
Do you want me to step in?
For most of my life, the men in my family had made decisions for me and called it protection. Brady waited.
I wasn’t sure yet what I wanted so I gave a wobbly nod.
His attention shifted to Keaton. “I know you’re here because you’re worried about your sister.
But you’re not going to come into her home and raise your voice at her.
If you want a real conversation, sit down.
Lower your voice. Ask her what happened, and then listen. ”
Keaton stiffened, irritation flashing across his face. “You don’t get to tell me how to speak to my sister.”
“I can and I will,” Brady said evenly. “Stop looming over her and lower your voice.”
Keaton looked at me. I held his gaze, breathing hard. I wanted to handle this on my own, but I also appreciated Brady’s support.
A long silence stretched. Keaton stared at Brady, then let out a defeated exhale and dropped into one of the kitchen chairs. The aggressive energy remained, coiled and hostile, but contained for now.
Brady’s hand stayed warm against my back for another moment. He brushed his thumb once across my spine then looked at me again. “Okay?”
I nodded.
“Then how about I make tea for everyone?” he asked, but gave me a look that asked if that was what I wanted.
The question wasn’t really about tea. “Thank you. That sounds perfect.”
“I’ll be right in the kitchen,” he said quietly, and moved toward it. The apartment was small enough that he stayed within earshot. I heard him open the correct cabinet without asking. Keaton noticed too; his mouth tightened at the quiet domesticity of it.
Keaton lowered his voice and tried again, the questions more precise now. What had Brady seen? What access had he truly had? Had he asked about their current work? Connected any device? Known the compound’s layout?
I answered clearly. No. No. No unauthorized access. No knowledge of Sentinel-7. Keaton seemed to believe the technical answers, but the skepticism lingered in his eyes.
Then he turned while I was speaking, and everything stopped.
He stood and walked slowly toward the living room wall, body rigid.
The butcher paper was still there. Every lead we’d followed was listed.
Thomas Steele was at the center. Arrows and red yarn connected Gabe Holliston, Cody Burke, Celia, Firebrook Valley, the wedding, Cookies & Coffee, the Mountain Oracle.
Pins, notes, and unanswered questions were scattered around the web.
Keaton’s own name sat pinned near the center.
“What the fuck is this?” he said, voice low and strained. He pointed. “Who are the Burkes?”
“It’s a long story, but Dad was friends with Gabe Holliston and Cody Burke in college.”
He pointed to Thomas’s name in the middle. “Brady came here looking for Dad?”
“Yes.”
“And you helped him?”
I swallowed hard. “Also, yes. But not in the way you’re thinking.”
Keaton dragged a hand over his face. “Dad said Brady was dangerous. I see now that he’s right.” He kept reading the wall. “Why did Brady say he was looking for Dad?”
I told him the truth, as ridiculous as it sounded.
“Brady’s sister married a Burke. The Hollistons and the Burkes have a history and not in a good way.
Now his brother is marrying another Burke.
He hoped understanding or repairing the break might keep the same thing from happening to Evan and Nora.
They hoped Dad would know something to help mend the feud. ”
Keaton stared at me. “He crossed the country looking for Dad because he wants his brother to have a better wedding?”
“Essentially.”
“Do you know how implausible that sounds?” Keaton looked toward the kitchen as if expecting Brady to laugh and reveal his real motive. When nothing came, he pointed again. “What does a cookie shop have to do with any of this? And an Oracle?”
I explained what I could. He took in the entire chaotic map once more, then turned to me with genuine bewilderment. His expression pained. “Are you on drugs?”
“No,” I said flatly.
He studied me a long moment, then laid out his theory that had clearly been building in his head.
A Holliston heir shows up searching for Thomas Steele.
He finds the isolated daughter instead. He cultivates a relationship with her.
She starts changing security protocols and bringing him into protected spaces.
They build a map of the family’s hidden connections, all while Sentinel-7 is at its most vulnerable.
“How can you not see what’s happening here?
A competitor, a government, a foreign operation.
He might not even be the one pulling the strings.
He could be the friendly face they knew you’d let in. ”
I didn’t dismiss his concerns. “I understand how this looks bad.”
But I walked him through what I had done: how I’d investigated Brady first, monitored him, tested his stories, watched him when he didn’t know I was looking.
He’d had chances to dig and hadn’t taken them.
He hadn’t asked about Sentinel-7. He’d encouraged my choices instead of exploiting my fights with Dad.
“He says I’m now what he cares the most about,” I said quietly. “And I believe him.”
Keaton’s expression tightened. “God help us. He has you brainwashed.”
“I’m not asking for your approval. I’m asking you for time.”
When Keaton didn’t promise that, I added, “And maybe I’m not asking for that either. I’m telling you that I need this. I need time away . . . and I need you to trust me that I can be with Brady and not endanger the family.”
“I can’t leave you here with him.”
“What are you willing to do, Keaton? Drag me home by force? How would that work?”
He looked toward the kitchen again. Brady had done everything right. He’d asked my permission, reinforced my voice, and stepped back to let us talk. Keaton exhaled heavily.
“I came here to bring you back,” he said at last. “But you’re right, I can’t force you. Not yet.”
In a small voice I said, “Not ever. When I come home, if I come home, it’ll be my choice. Tell Dad I’m okay. Tell him whatever you need to so I can have this.” I softened my tone even as my volume rose. “If we don’t trust each other, Keaton, what kind of family are we?”
Keaton made a guttural sound. “I’ll tell Dad something.”
“So . . . he doesn’t know everything you found out?”
He shook his head. “I wanted to hear your explanation first.”
I stepped forward and hugged him. He gave me a quick, tight hug back. “Thank you, Keaton.”
“Be careful, Elise.”
Brady returned then, carrying two mugs. He handed me mine first, exactly the way I liked it, no questions asked. The small intimacy landed heavily in the room. He offered the second mug to Keaton.
Keaton refused it. “If you hurt her—”
“I won’t,” Brady said simply. “Not intentionally.”
The words landed with quiet power. They threatened everything I had fought for.
“Intentional or not, I’ll make your life so miserable you’ll wish I’d killed you.” Keaton studied him a moment longer, then looked at me. The expression in his eyes carried love beneath the exhaustion and worry. “Call me.”
He left. The door clicked shut quietly this time.
The apartment fell silent. Brady set Keaton’s untouched mug down and looked at me first. “That went well.”
I crossed to him. He pulled me into his arms, and I let myself settle against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
“It could have gone worse,” I murmured against his shirt then pulled back to see his face. “How did you stay so calm?”
Brady’s hand settled at my waist, warm and sure. “I’ve had a lot of practice with his type.” A small, rueful smile touched his mouth. “Your brother loves you. I can survive him not loving me yet.”
I rose onto my toes and kissed him. Brady had shown me another reason to love him. He could have made the encounter with my brother all about him, but instead he chose to make sure I was both safe and heard.
That made making the hardest decisions of my life easier.