Bonus
It’s funny how fire has a way of pulling people toward it.
It’s also funny how you can sit in the orbit of the same people and feel like you might as well be in a different ZIP code.
After amazing food, nice wine, and good conversation indoors, everyone congregated around the firepit. Some folks picked up talking where they left off, and others started new conversations.
The evening is exactly what it should be. Silas is on my dad’s lap, while Dad has his arms around Silas. They’re so relaxed, part joining in conversation and part lost in their own world.
Tess and Clayton argue pleasantly about something festival-related. Kai, Atlas, and Dante talk about Sheriff Dale retiring next year. Hux and Chris are doing the silent communication thing. I’ve never met two people more in tune with each other who are not also boning.
Maria couldn’t come, which is a shame, because spending the evening harmlessly flirting with her would have distracted me from thinking about the call I got earlier.
The call was brief, and my ASAC said all the right things. With the physical results in, I’m cleared for fieldwork. I can come back in two days for my next assignment.
But there was something in his tone that put me on edge.
I’ve worked for the man for three years. I don’t know what the assignment is, but my gut tells me I’m not going to like it.
He wasn’t happy that I came to see my dad when I found his name on the Vertex folder instead of going to him first, so I won’t be totally surprised if the next assignment is some kind of lesson.
Whatever it is, I’ll do it with the professionalism and efficiency I’m known for.
I pick up my wine glass and take a sip. Brooding doesn’t help anyone.
“Hey.”
Silas has extracted himself from Dad’s lap, which is a sentence I never thought I would think—and sits on the empty chair next to mine.
“Hey. Your chair getting uncomfortable?” I joke.
He glances at my dad, and I swear literal heart eyes are coming from him. “I could literally live on Vaughn’s lap. Only one person would ever peel me off him.”
“I’m not sure whether that’s disturbing or sweet.”
“Definitely sweet, but that’s not why I’m here.”
I knew he had a higher purpose.
“What’s going on, Rowan?”
“Nothing,” I say.
He gives me a look.
“Honestly, it’s just work stuff.”
“What work stuff?”
“I’m sure Dad told you I’m going back tomorrow.”
“Yeah, he mentioned it. Are you nervous about going back on the field? Your arm?”
I shake my head. “Physically, I’m ready. Mentally, I can’t wait to get back to the field, but … I don’t know, I have a weird feeling.”
“Your instincts have always been good.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just anxious about going back after all this time off,” I say. “Maybe I’m telling myself I’m ready but my instincts are telling me I’m not as ready as I think I am.”
“If you want to talk,” he says, “you know where I am.”
“Yeah.” I snort. “My dad’s bed.”
He gives me a full megawatt smile, and the heart eyes are back.
I take a sip of my wine, hiding my smile behind the glass.
“Has everyone heard about the Vertex Holdings documentary?”
I look at Silas, whose back straightened up immediately, and then at Dante, who delivered the question.
“What documentary?” Atlas asks.
“I saw it on my social media feed,” Dante says. “Someone’s doing an exposé on the company. There are rumors about shady practices, people going missing—that sort of stuff.”
Kai and Atlas were the ones who helped my dad get the information that ultimately made its way to my desk.
Dante is completely oblivious to the shared looks around the firepit.
“Who’s doing it?” Kai asks.
“Some investigative reporter,” Dante says.
“He’s been doing a deep dive. It seems that he’s got sources inside Vertex Holdings who’ve been talking.
I’ve read that some of the stuff they’ve done is in Colorado.
Do you think they have anything to do with that company that was here? What were they called?”
“HelixGen,” Atlas says.
Dante points at Atlas. “Yes, that one. Maybe they’re connected, right? All these big companies all work for each other.”
“Do you know the name of this reporter?” I ask.
Dante grabs his phone from his pocket. “Wait up. I think I have a tab open on my browser from when I read about it at lunch yesterday.”
He taps on his phone screen for what seems like a lifetime.
“Flynn,” he finally says. “Declan Flynn.”
What?!
Declan Fucking Flynn?
It shouldn’t surprise me that he’d get involved in this somehow. He always had a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Silas leans closer to me. “Wasn’t Declan Flynn in one of our classes at college? The dude had a thing for you.”
“He certainly didn’t have a thing for me. Unless his kink is making losing arguments.”
Silas laughs. “If I remember, he won a few of those arguments.”
“He did not. Regardless, I’m straight, and he knew that. He just didn’t like that his shit didn’t get to me.”
“Considering how much you talked about him back then, I’d respectfully disagree, my friend.”
“He was irritating.”
“And insufferable.”
“The worst.”
“Uh-huh.”
I try to act unaffected. “It’s probably a different person anyway.”
It’s probably not a different person. Not that I care. Flynn can do what he likes; it’s not like our paths ever cross.
“I think I’m going to head in. Early start tomorrow.” I stand up, stretch my back, and smile. “This was a great evening.”
Tess is the first to hug me. Clayton shakes my hand. Kai and Atlas tell me to take care of the shoulder. Hux and Chris tell me to come back soon, and Dante waves at me. I hug Dad and Silas and go inside.
The guest room has been mine for the last few weeks. I’ve never spent so much time in this house before, and I’m going to miss it. I’m going to miss seeing my dad all the time again, and I’ll especially miss seeing Silas. We haven’t spent this much time together since college.
I sit on the bed and take out my phone.
I type the name into the search bar and wait.
Declan Flynn comes up immediately—a professional profile, a website, a list of credits longer than I expected. The guy has real credentials.
Investigative journalist.
Documentary filmmaker.
His photograph shows him looking exactly the same as he did in college, which is annoying. Same mousy-brown hair with waves that turn into curls when he allows it to grow longer. Perfect teeth. Deep voice.
I set my phone face down on the bed and lie back, staring at the ceiling.
What the fuck does his voice have to do with anything? From what I remember, it was just annoying, especially when words came out of his mouth.
I push all of it out of my mind and instead think of everything I have to do when I get back to Denver tomorrow.
I definitely don’t think of Declan Flynn or our degrees of separation.
At some point in the night, I finally start feeling the buzz that comes before I’m given a new assignment. This is going to be good.
It has to be.
Thank you for reading The Hitman’s Final Job.