Chapter 28
ERRYN
I’d never been particularly fond of whiskey.
It burned too much on the way down and left a bitter taste in my mouth that lingered long after the glass was empty. But tonight it was the only thing that seemed capable of cutting through the relentless noise in my head.
I’d moved hotels within an hour of leaving the office, the thought of walking back into that room and seeing Helena’s jacket thrown over the back of a chair or that ridiculous Christmas tree had felt like someone pressing a blade slowly between my ribs.
So, I’d left.
New hotel.
New room.
Same fucking problem.
I tipped the glass back again, wincing as the whiskey burned down my throat.
The anger was still there, simmering quietly under my skin, tangled up with something far worse that I refused to name.
Because the truth was, if Helena had been standing in front of me right now, I wasn’t entirely sure whether I would have kissed or shot her.
My phone lit up and buzzed across the table. I picked it up, and a cascade of emotions hit me as I saw Theo’s name. Just hours ago, I was desperate to see if she was okay. Now, my heart sank to see her name on the screen and not Helena’s.
I let out a humorless laugh and answered. “Glad you have decided to pick up your phone. Have an enjoyable sabbatical?” I knew I sounded like a cunt, but I hurt. In places I thought were incapable of hurting anymore.
“Time of my life,” Theo said dryly, her voice a little weaker than I was comfortable with. “I’m fine, by the way, thanks for asking.”
“It’s been three days, Theodora,” I said, forcing myself not to slur as the whiskey fought valiantly to take charge. “Why did you not call a medic?”
There was a long pause at the other end of the line. “You need to be conscious to do that. I need a couple more days to get my strength back and get up to speed. I’ll report in when I am good to go,” she said.
I should go check on her. I was probably the only person she would let in if she was in a compromised state, but she would see straight through me right now, and I couldn’t bear it.
“Take the week,” I said. “It’s a wildfire at the moment, and I need you to hit the ground running when you come back now that we no longer have the Vanguard girl as leverage. I’ll have a new team ready.”
“No team,” she said quickly. “I work better alone, as has been proven recently.”
“That would be unconventional—”
“Because that’s such a change to our normal, is it not?’ she interrupted. “No team, Erryn.”
I was too tired and drunk to argue, so I nodded tiredly, then realized she couldn’t see me.
God, I needed to go to bed. “I want an override code for your systems added to the Triarchy’s database this week,” I said, hoping she couldn’t hear the barely concealed concern in my voice.
I don’t think I could take another few days like that.
“It’s ridiculous that we do not already have one in place.
“I’ll think about it,” she said, then the line went dead.
I sat there staring at the phone screen for a long moment, trying to gather myself enough to drag myself into the cold bed that didn’t smell like Helena.
It was heartbreak.
I had just lost everything. My home was no longer my safe place, I’d lost my Chair, hell—even my easy familiarity with Theo was gone.
That all paled in comparison to losing Helena. I don’t know when it happened, but she had stolen into the dark corners of my heart and taken root there. She was mine, and I had thrown her away.
A droplet of water fell onto the dark phone screen, and I blinked at it in confusion.
Another droplet followed a moment later.
I couldn’t even remember the last time I cried. I didn’t think I was capable of it anymore.
The next morning arrived far too quickly.
I woke with a pounding headache and the dull, unpleasant awareness that the world had not, in fact, ended overnight as I’d rather hoped it might.
Ten minutes. It was the only wallowing I would allow myself.
And then I’d pull myself together. The conversation with Helena had lingered uncomfortably in my dreams. Even now, I questioned how fast I had shut her down, but I couldn’t risk anything to do with the Vitale family.
It would be jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire, and they were far bigger than Vanguard.
I hated that I couldn’t tell if the little voice urging me to at least listen was from my head or my heart. Regardless, Vanguard’s god damn failsafe had me in a vise that I had no idea how to get out of yet.
Yet.
I refused to let a man take me down.
By midmorning, I was back in the Meridian.
The concierge gave me the same polite nod he always did as I crossed the lobby, though I could see the blatant curiosity in his eyes as I stepped into the private elevator.
I rode it to the penthouse level in silence, trying not to look at the floor where Claire’s blood had pooled.
There was no evidence that she had ever been there.
Nothing was left of the violence she had suffered in her final moments.
She had left behind no family—at least none that remained close enough to mourn her.
In the end, I’d been all she had. I’d found what remained of her kin in Scotland and made sure she was laid to rest among them in a small cemetery in Luss, beside a quaint little church whose moss-covered stones overlooked the loch where the morning sun first broke across the water.
I’d arranged for fresh flowers to be placed on her grave every month for the next decade and hoped that wherever she was, she might forgive me one day.
The doors opened onto the quiet hallway that led to my apartment, and I wandered into the place that had once been my refuge.
I hadn’t realized how much of Helena was in here until she wasn’t.
It was exactly as I’d left it, though the silence felt heavier now, pressing in around the edges of the rooms in a way I hadn’t noticed before.
My gaze moved automatically through the familiar spaces, cataloging the details with the same detached precision I used when assessing a room for threats.
The couch. The kitchen counter where she’d sat swinging her feet while chatting to Claire. I closed my eyes, forcing the memories away before they could settle in.
This place had never been a home. It was simply the closest thing to one I had allowed myself.
I wandered into my office, another knife twisting in my bleeding heart.
The table from France had been delivered, and Matilda had set it up exactly where I’d asked her to.
Where I’d intended to work every night amongst the memories it held.
It was the first time I’d accepted that I could not hide from the want.
The first time I’d seen Helena—all of her.
And I didn’t want anyone else touching a surface she had let herself be so vulnerable on.
I crossed to it and ran my fingers slowly over the rough edges of the two bullet holes, contemplating.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and made the call.
“Matilda,” I said when she answered. “I want everything in the Meridian packed and placed into storage. I’ll arrange for the property to go on the market this week.”
There was a brief pause on the line. “Alright. Are you okay? Is there anything I can—”
“No,” I said quietly, cutting her off before she could finish. “I’ll be relocating to Washington. Your position is available there if you wish to come with me. If you’d prefer to remain in London, I’ll continue covering your salary until you find something suitable.”
There was another silence. “That’s very generous. Can I think about it for a couple of days?”
“Of course,” I said. “Let me know by the end of the month.”
I ended the call and looked around the apartment one last time. I was limping off to Washington with everything I’d built in tatters. But I would let this be a painful lesson and reset the damn chessboard.
I ran my hand once more across the scarred surface of the table. The long game was only just beginning.