Chapter 28 #2
"Royce." My voice cracks slightly. "What is he talking about? What group? What transfer?"
They close their eyes briefly, and when they open them, I see something that looks like resignation. "This isn't… I can't explain right now. I need to call Carver back first."
"No." I move to block their path to the phone. "No, you need to explain to me what's going on. Right now."
"Kenny—“
"Is it drugs? Is that what this is? Some kind of trafficking operation? Because I heard what he said, Royce, and it sounds bad.” The questions pour out of me.
"Stop!” Their voice cuts through my spiraling panic. "Just stop. It's not drugs. It's not trafficking. It's nothing illegal."
"Then what is it?! Because from where I'm standing, it sounds pretty fucking suspicious!"
"I know how it sounds, but you have to trust me. I'm not doing anything illegal or immoral. I'm helping people, Kenneth. That's all I can tell you right now."
"That's not enough!" I run my hands through my hair, feeling like I'm losing my mind. "You're asking me to just trust you blindly while someone calls you about moving ‘groups’ in volatile situations? Do you understand how insane that sounds?"
"I do. And I know I'm asking a lot." They take a step toward me, and I see the conflict in their eyes.
"But there are people depending on me right now.
People who need help. I have to call Carver back and figure out what's happening.
And then, after that's handled, I promise I will explain everything. But right now, I need you to trust me."
I want to. God, I want to.
But my mind keeps replaying that phone call, keeps imagining scenarios that make my stomach turn.
"How do I know you're not in danger?" I ask quietly. "How do I know you're not involved in anything that could hurt you?"
Their expression softens slightly. "Because I've been doing this for years, and I'm very good at staying safe. I have protocols, Kenneth. Security measures. I'm not reckless."
"Doing what? What have you been doing for years?"
They hesitate, clearly warring with themselves. Finally, they say, "I help people get out of bad situations. Dangerous situations. That's all I can say without potentially compromising their safety."
The words hang in the air. I study their face, looking for any sign of deception, but all I see is sincerity. And exhaustion. Like they're tired of carrying this secret alone.
"Victims," I say slowly, pieces starting to click together. "You help victims."
They don't confirm or deny, but the slight relaxing of their shoulders tells me I'm close to the truth.
"The group Carver mentioned," I continue, working through it out loud. "It's not drugs or stolen goods. It's people. People who need to be moved to safety."
Again, no confirmation. But Royce's eyes are locked on mine, and I can see the plea in them. Please understand. Please don't make me choose between you and this work.
My anger drains away, replaced by more complicated feelings. Fear for their safety. Admiration for what they're doing. Hurt that they didn't trust me with this.
"You should have told me," I say.
"I know. I wanted to. I've been trying to figure out how." They take another step closer. "This work is dangerous to talk about. The more people who know, the more risk there is. Not just to me, but to the people I help."
"I'm not just people, Royce. I'm your partner. Or at least I thought I was."
"You are." They reach for my hand, and I let them take it.
"You absolutely are. And that's why I've been struggling with this. Because you deserve to know, but telling you also means pulling you into something that could put you at risk too. With our past, I’ve also been trying to make sense of everything.”
“My safety concerns should be my choice to make."
"You're right. They should be." They squeeze my hand. "And I'm making it now. After I call Carver back, after I handle whatever emergency this is, I will tell you everything. No more secrets. No more vague explanations. Everything."
I search their face, looking for any hint of doubt or deception. But all I see is Royce—the person I've fallen in love with, the person who takes care of everyone around them, the person who apparently helps people in ways I'm only beginning to understand.
"Okay," I say finally. "Okay. Handle your emergency. Help whoever needs help. But then we talk. Really talk."
They bring my hand to their lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. "Thank you for trusting me. I know that's asking a lot right now."
"It is. And I do. Trust you, I mean. Even when I don't understand what's happening."
They pull me into a hug, and I wrap my arms around them tightly. I can feel their heart racing against my chest, can feel the tension in their body.
"I'm scared," I admit quietly. "Whatever you're doing, it sounds dangerous."
"I'm careful," they promise. "I have people who help me. Security. Plans. I wouldn't do this if I thought I couldn't handle it."
"But accidents happen. People make mistakes."
They pull back to look at me. "I know. Which is why I need to call Carver back right now. The longer I wait, the more dangerous it becomes for the people who need help."
I nod, releasing them even though every instinct is screaming at me to hold on, to keep them here where they're safe.
They pick up their phone and step into the other room. I can hear their voice, low and urgent, but I can't make out the words. I turn back to the kitchen, looking at our abandoned dinner. The vegetables are ruined, the rice probably overcooked by now.
It feels symbolic somehow. This perfect domestic evening, interrupted by reality. By the complexity of Royce's life that I'm only beginning to understand.
I hear them moving around in the bedroom, and a few minutes later they emerge in different clothes. Dark jeans, a black jacket, boots instead of their earlier comfortable attire. They look like they're preparing for something serious.
"You're going somewhere," I say.
"I have to. There's a transfer that needs to happen tonight, and the original coordinator can't do it. This isn’t what I usually have to handle. Circumstances are different tonight. I don't know how long I'll be. Could be a few hours."
"Can I come with you?"
"No." The answer is immediate and firm. "Not this time. Not until we've talked, and you understand what this really involves."
"I don't like this. I don't like you going out there alone to do potentially dangerous work.”
"I won't be alone. Carver will be there, and we have other people who help with this kind of thing." They cross back to me, cupping my face in their hands. "I will be careful. I will come back. And then we will talk about all of this."
"Do I have a choice in anything?”
"You always have a choice, Kenneth. You can choose to stay and wait for me. You can choose to leave and not deal with any of this. You can choose—"
I cut them off with a kiss, pouring everything I'm feeling into it. My fear. My frustration. When I pull back, we're both breathing hard.
"I choose you," I say simply. "Whatever this is, whatever you're involved in, I choose you. But you have to promise me you'll be safe."
"I promise. I'll text you updates when I can." They kiss me again, softer this time.
"Okay."
They grab their things and head for the door, then pause in the threshold, looking back at me with an expression I can't quite read.
"Be safe," I tell them.
"I will, Little Menace." Their voice is gentle. "Don't wait up for me."
"I don't think I can sleep even if I wanted to. I'm exhausted after finding all this out.”
A small smile crosses their face. "Then I'll try to wrap up quickly to get back to you."
In the next instant they're gone, and I'm alone in the apartment with burnt vegetables and a thousand questions. I sink down onto the couch, my phone in my hand, and wait.
The apartment feels too quiet without Royce. I try to distract myself. I clean up the kitchen, put away the groceries they brought back. Attempt to salvage our dinner before giving up and ordering pizza instead.
But my mind keeps returning to that phone call. To Royce's careful explanations. To the way they looked dressed all in black, preparing to do something they wouldn't let me be part of.
They help people get out of bad situations. Dangerous situations.
The more I think about it, the more it makes sense.
It's noble. It's dangerous. It's so absolutely Royce that I can't believe I didn't see it before.
My phone buzzes.
Royce: First checkpoint cleared. Everything going smoothly. Should be done in a few hours.
I type back immediately.
Kenneth: Please be careful.
Royce: Always am. Get some rest if you can.
Kenneth: Not likely, but I'll try.
I stare at the screen for a moment before setting my phone down. The pizza arrives, and I eat mechanically, not really tasting it. I turn on the TV but can't focus on anything. Every few minutes I check my phone, hoping for another update.
Hours crawl by. It's past midnight when my phone finally buzzes again.
Royce: Wrapping up now. Everyone is safe. Be there soon if you want?
The relief that washes over me is physical. I slump back against the couch cushions, suddenly aware of how tense I've been holding myself.
Kenneth: Thank god. I'll leave the door unlocked.
Royce: Then I'll let myself in.
Kenneth: Okay.
I settle back on the couch to wait. I must doze off at some point because the sound of the door opening startles me awake.
Royce steps inside, looking exhausted but unharmed. They lock the door behind them, kick off their boots, and drop their jacket on the chair before crossing to where I'm sitting.
"Hi," they say quietly.
"Hi." I reach for them, and they come willingly, laying beside me on the couch and burying their face in my neck. "You okay?"
"Tired. But okay." They're quiet for a moment, then add, "Everyone's safe. That's what matters."
I hold them close, feeling the tension slowly drain from their body. We sit like that for a long time, neither of us speaking, just being together.
Finally, Royce pulls back enough to look at me. "We should talk."
"Yeah," I agree. "We should. Just not tonight. I want to hold you. To know you’re safe here with me.”
“That I can do, Little Menace.”