Chapter 16
Vance
It started with a phone call on my day off.
Tobias was at the counter reading one of his thrift store paperbacks while I made lunch. We had fallen into a rhythm—him reading, me cooking, both of us existing in the same space without needing to fill every silence with words.
My phone buzzed. Cedric.
"What?" I answered.
"Nice greeting. Very warm." Cedric's voice was cheerful. "Quick question—did you file the incident report for the loading dock issue last week? Ronan can't find it."
"Top drawer, left side, under the vendor contracts."
"You and your filing system. Hold on—" I heard shuffling on his end.
Tobias looked up from his book. "Need me to grab anything from the fridge?"
I shook my head, but Cedric was already back.
"Found it! Thanks. Hey, are you coming to—" He paused. "Wait. Was that someone?"
"I have to go."
"Vance. Is there someone at your place?" I could hear the grin spreading across his face. "Oh my God. You have company. On a Tuesday afternoon."
"Goodbye, Cedric."
"This is huge. This is—"
I hung up.
Tobias raised an eyebrow. "Problem?"
"Just Cedric being Cedric."
A couple of days later, I was in the break room when Cedric found me.
"So," he said, dropping into the chair across from me with that look he got when he had gossip. "You have a roommate now?"
"What?"
"The phone call. I heard someone in the background." He leaned back, grinning. "Sounded like a guy. You get a roommate? A friend staying over? A secret brother you never told us about?"
"None of the above."
"Come on, Vance. You—lone wolf, man of mystery—have someone living with you. This is news." He studied me. "You're being cagey. That means it's interesting."
"It means it's none of your business."
"Everything is my business. I'm nosy. It's my best quality." He stood up, still grinning. "Fine, keep your secrets. But whoever he is, tell him I said hi."
He walked out, leaving me with cold coffee and a knot in my stomach.
Ronan had been in the corner the whole time, reading something on his tablet.
He hadn't said a word.
The next morning, Ronan knocked on my office door.
"Got a minute?"
"Sure."
He came in and closed the door behind him.
That was unusual. Ronan didn't close doors unless something serious was happening.
He sat down across from me. For a long moment, he didn't say anything. Just watched me with that calm, assessing gaze that always made me feel like he could see through walls.
"How are you doing?" he asked.
"Fine."
"That's what you always say." A pause. "You seem different lately. Good different. But different."
"People keep telling me that."
"Because it's true." He leaned back. "I'm glad for you. Whatever's going on in your life, it seems to be working."
I waited. There was always more with Ronan.
"The Langford investigators came by again yesterday," he said. "While you were out."
"I heard."
"They're getting frustrated. Running out of leads." He paused. "The family's offering more money now. Six hundred thousand for information."
"Good for them."
Ronan was quiet for a moment.
"You know," he said slowly, "I've been thinking about that day. The wedding. How you personally ran the search, checked every corridor yourself."
"That's my job."
"It is." He nodded. "You're thorough. Professional. If anyone was going to find something, it would have been you."
The words hung in the air. Not an accusation. Not even a question. Just an observation.
I could let it go. Change the subject. Walk away.
But Tobias had already met with Tristan and started reaching out to his family. The secret wouldn't stay secret forever.
And Ronan deserved better than lies.
"If I told you something," I said carefully, "something that could end my career, maybe get me arrested, would you keep it to yourself?"
Ronan didn't blink. "Yes."
"Even with six hundred thousand on the table?"
"I don't care about money." His voice was steady. "I care about the people I work with. You've had my back for six years. That means something."
I looked at him. Calm. Patient. Waiting.
This was a risk. The biggest risk I'd taken since hiding Tobias in that storage closet. My career, my reputation, everything I'd built—all of it riding on whether I could trust this man.
But I was tired of carrying it alone.
"I found him," I said. "That day. In the service corridor."
Ronan's expression didn't change.
"He was scared. Shaking. Begging me not to send him back." I took a breath. "So I didn't. I helped him get out. Took him to my place. He's been there ever since."
Silence. The hum of the computer. The distant sound of the hotel lobby.
"The voice Cedric heard," Ronan said finally.
"Yes."
"Tobias Langford has been living with you for months."
"Yes."
Ronan nodded slowly, processing.
"Why?" he asked. "Why risk everything for a stranger?"
"You didn't see him that day. The look in his eyes." I paused. "He wasn't running from a wedding. He was running for his life. I couldn't hand him back to the people who'd made him that desperate."
"And now?"
"Now he's figuring out who he is. He's met with his brother and is starting to face his family on his own terms."
"And you two?"
The question was quiet. Non-judgmental.
"Yeah," I said. "We're together."
Ronan was silent for a long moment. Then he stood up.
"I'm not going to tell anyone."
"Ronan—"
"Because you're my friend." He walked to the door, paused with his hand on the handle. "And because I understand what it's like to need protection from the people who are supposed to love you."
Something flickered across his face. Something old and personal, quickly hidden.
"Thank you," I said.
"Just be careful." He opened the door. "And if you need anything—backup, an alibi, whatever—I'm here."
He left.
I sat in the silence of my office, staring at the closed door.
I'd just bet my entire career on Ronan's loyalty. Fifteen years of building a reputation, handed over on trust.
It should have felt terrifying.
Instead, it felt like breathing for the first time in months.
That evening, I came home to find Tobias at the kitchen table, staring at a cold cup of coffee.
He hadn't touched it in twenty minutes.
His shoulders had lost that hunched quality—the defensive curl I'd grown accustomed to seeing. But whatever had replaced it wasn't peace. More like the stillness before a storm.
"You're a thousand miles away," I said from the doorway.
He blinked, looked up. The smile he gave me was small but genuine. "Sorry. Still processing."
"The Tristan thing?"
"All of it." He finally lifted the mug, took a sip, and grimaced at the cold coffee.
"My brother knew where I was the entire time.
He was protecting me. Misdirecting the investigators, keeping my parents from finding me too soon.
" A breath. "He waited for me to reach out. Trusted me to figure it out on my own."
I crossed the kitchen and pulled out the chair across from him. "Does that bother you?"
"No. Yes." A soft laugh. "I spent weeks thinking I was hiding, thinking I'd managed to disappear. And the whole time, Tristan was watching, making sure I was safe without interfering."
"That sounds like a good brother."
"The best." His eyes met mine. "It also means I've been living in a fantasy, pretending I could just vanish and avoid the consequences indefinitely. But I can't. My family is still out there. Elizabeth is still out there. They all deserve answers."
I didn't say anything. This was his to work through.
"I need to see my parents."
The words hung in the air. I watched him square his shoulders, fear and determination warring across his features.
"Are you sure?"
"No." He shook his head. "But Tristan said they're scared, not angry. And I owe them the truth. Not confrontation. Just conversation. Letting them know I'm alive and why I ran."
"That's a big step."
"I know. And I'm terrified." He reached across the table and took my hand. "But I can't build a new life while the old one is still burning behind me. I have to face it. Face them. Then I can really move forward."
His fingers were warm against mine. I turned my hand over, laced our fingers together.
"I told Ronan," I said.
He went still. "What?"
"Today. He'd been putting things together. Cedric heard you on the phone and started asking questions. Ronan noticed the timing, the changes in me, my reaction to the investigators." I squeezed his hand. "He didn't accuse me of anything. Just gave me the opening. And I took it."
"You told him everything?"
"That I found you. That you've been staying with me. That we're together."
Tobias's face was pale. "What did he say?"
"That he won't tell anyone. That he trusts me." I paused. "That he understands the need for protection from family."
"You believe him?"
"I do." I met his eyes. "I've known him for six years. He won't turn me in."
Tobias was quiet for a moment. Then something shifted in his expression—a hint of mischief breaking through the tension.
"How much is the reward now?" he asked.
"Six hundred thousand."
"That's a lot of money." He tilted his head. "You could just turn me in. Cash the check. I'm about to meet with my family anyway—saves you the trouble of driving me to Tristan's."
"Tobias."
"I'm serious. Think about it." His mouth curved. "If it goes badly with my parents, at least we'd have a nice escape fund. Buy a boat. Sail to Mexico. Start a new life as fugitives."
"You get seasick."
"Minor detail." He was fighting a smile now. "We could buy a very stable boat."
"With six hundred thousand dollars."
"Exactly. See? I'm being practical."
I stared at him. This man I'd smuggled out of a hotel, terrified and broken, was now joking about being turned in for cash.
"You're an idiot," I said.
"I'm delightful." He leaned forward and kissed me. "And you're stuck with me. No refunds."
"Wouldn't want one."
His smile softened into something real. "I know."
A moment passed. Then he exhaled slowly.