Chapter 37 – Thiago
Thirty-Seven
Thiago
My eyes remain fixed on the plain manila envelope sitting in the center of my coffee table.
I tossed it there the second I walked into my apartment, then headed straight for the shower without looking back, but I felt its presence the entire time. Even now, it seems to take up more space than it should, drawing my attention no matter where I look.
I still haven’t opened it. As long as the envelope stays sealed, the devices inside remain theoretical. The moment I tear it open, there’s no pretending I haven’t crossed another line.
I slam my fist against the coffee table, rattling the wood. The envelope doesn’t move, and neither does the knot in my chest.
Are you compromised, Operative?
The question has been on my mind since I left Helios, and hours later, I’m still trying to come up with an answer that doesn’t make me feel like a fucking liar.
There isn’t one.
I’m compromised, and I think I have been for longer than I’m willing to admit.
My phone buzzes on the couch beside me, and the name on the screen sends my pulse racing.
Remi: Are you home?
Me: I am.
Three dots appear almost instantly.
Remi: You mind if I drop by? For some non-friendly company?
A smile tugs at my mouth.
I should tell her no, say it’s been a long day and I have a headache, or come up with any excuse to keep her away from me tonight. After everything Elena just ordered me to do, being around Remi is probably the last thing I need.
But as I stare at her message, I realize I’m not sure I can handle not seeing her either.
All I can think about is having her here, even if it’s only listening to her complain about her day or watching her eyes light up when she talks about cars. I know I should put some distance between us, but I don’t fucking want to. I want whatever time I can get with her.
Me: I could use the company of someone who pretends she’s not my friend.
I wait for a response, but nothing comes. Then a soft knock sounds at my door.
My eyes flick from the phone in my hand to the front door. I push off the couch and make my way over, and the second I look through the peephole, my phone vibrates.
Remi: Never leave a girl waiting at the door.
I laugh under my breath. Of course she’s already here.
Unlocking the deadbolt, I pull it open to find her standing on the other side, her hair swept into a ponytail, a thin platinum strand framing her face.
She’s holding her phone in one hand. When she looks up at me through her lashes and smiles, the tension that’s been riding me since Helios finally subsides.
“I hope it’s not too late.” She lifts a white plastic bag. “I brought ice cream. With chocolate sprinkles.”
“Well, I’ll never say no to sprinkles.”
Unable to help myself, I hook my fingers into the waistband of her shorts and gently tug her toward me.
“Get in here, fera.”
She rolls her eyes but lets me pull her across the threshold.
I should probably take the ice cream from her, but I can’t stop staring. She’s so fucking beautiful that I forget about the envelope only feet away from us.
Tonight, I’ve spent enough time thinking about what I should and shouldn’t do, so I say fuck it, lean down, and press a kiss to her forehead.
“Thanks for coming over.”
The teasing slips from her expression, replaced with something softer, and somehow that simple look does more damage than any kiss ever could.
“We’d better eat this soon,” she says, her voice light. “It’s kind of melting.”
I trace my thumb along her lower lip, then take the bag from her. “I’ll get the bowls.”
As I head toward the kitchen, my attention is caught by the envelope still sitting in the middle of the coffee table.
The last thing I need is Remi asking what’s inside.
I pick it up on my way past and carry it into the kitchen.
When I open the cabinet for the bowls, I slide the envelope onto the shelf behind them, grab two, then close the door.
A few minutes later, we’re settled on my couch with cake batter ice cream drowning beneath an unreasonable amount of chocolate sprinkles.
Remi sits with her legs folded beneath her and her body angled toward mine. Normally, she’d be talking, teasing me, or giving me shit about something, but tonight, she’s unusually quiet.
“What happened?” I ask, setting my bowl on the coffee table and turning toward her.
She pauses, the dessert halfway to her mouth. “Nothing.”
“Liar.”
She gives me the faintest hint of a smile before it disappears just as quickly. I don’t push her. I simply wait until she finally sighs and sets her spoon down.
“I needed some company tonight, and with Val gone, AJ overseas, my brother busy, and Henry, the bellman at my condo, off for the night, well, you were what was left.”
I laugh and scoot closer. “Dead last, huh? I guess I’m just happy I made the list.”
She chuckles and looks down at her bowl, but there’s nothing behind the sound. I slip a finger beneath her chin and tilt her face toward mine.
“Okay. Now tell me why you’re really here.”
She holds my gaze for a moment before answering. “I put on music. I tried to watch a movie. I even took apart my AR and started stress cleaning it.”
“But?”
“It was too loud,” she whispers.
My brow furrows. “I thought you liked noise.”
“No.” Her eyes drop to her bowl. “I was too loud. I couldn’t stop thinking or overthinking everything, and eventually, I got tired of listening to myself.”
Her words take me back to the terrace and to what she told me about needing the city around her. All that sound gives her brain something else to focus on when the noise inside her head becomes too much.
“So you came here,” I say. “To me.”
She looks at me again and nods. “I did.”
“Why?”
Her lips part, and for a second, I think she’s going to tell me. Then the vulnerability leaves her expression, and I watch her retreat behind the same walls she always builds when we get too close.
“Aren’t you full of questions tonight, Braga?”
I laugh, but it doesn’t quite mask my disappointment. I could’ve sworn she was about to give me the answer I wanted, one I didn’t even realize I needed until now.
“You like me, don’t you?” I tease, breaking the tension.
She laughs, then dips her spoon into my bowl. Before I can protest, she brings the ice cream to my lips. Our eyes meet as I open my mouth and take the bite, then hook an arm around her waist and lift her onto my lap.
Her laughter softens, and mine fades with it.
There’s no rush to turn this into sex or to strip away the clothes between us. She came here because she didn’t want to be alone, and for now, having her curled against me feels like enough.
I wrap an arm around her as she keeps stealing bites of my ice cream as if it were hers. Guilt churns in my stomach when I think about the envelope now hidden in the kitchen, but I shove it aside. I’ve already let Helios take enough from me tonight, and I refuse to give them this as well.
Remi rests her head against my shoulder. “What was he like?”
The question catches me off guard.
I follow her gaze to the photograph on the bookshelf, taken the day my father was made detective. Emotions I usually keep buried begin to surface.
“You can tell me to shut up,” she says softly. “You don’t have to answer if—”
“I wish I remembered more about him.” I look at the photograph. “I wish I could remember all the stories my aunt used to tell me or what it felt like when he took me to the aquarium every weekend he had off because I loved watching the penguins and jellyfish.”
Remi gently brushes her fingertips along my jaw.
“I know Raymond Braga from newspaper articles and commendations. I know the decorated detective, the good cop everyone respected, but I barely remember what he was like as my father. Sometimes that fucking kills me.”
She tilts her face toward mine. “I’m sorry, Thiago.”
“He didn’t deserve to die, especially not that way.” Once I start, the words keep coming. “He wasn’t alone, though. According to the case reports, a woman who chose to remain anonymous stayed with him after he was shot. She held his hand and talked to him until he passed.”
Remi stops moving beside me. “That’s...” She swallows. “That’s a beautiful thing to do for someone.”
“Yeah.”
“Whenever I think about his last moments, that’s the part I hold on to,” I admit. “Someone cared enough to stay with him so he wouldn’t have to leave this world alone.”
Sadness crosses her face before she rests her head against my shoulder once more.
“I’m glad he had her.”
I look over at the photograph one more time. “So am I.”
With that thought, I feel a sudden urge to share a part of him with her that I rarely show anyone.
“Can I show you something?”
“Yeah.”
I take her bowl and set it on the coffee table beside mine, then help her off my lap and push myself to my feet.
She looks up at me with one eyebrow arched. “Where are we going?”
I hold out my hand. “Do you trust me?”
The question leaves my mouth before I can think better of it, and regret follows instantly.
Trust is the one thing she shouldn’t give me.
But Remi doesn’t hesitate. She slips her hand into mine and nods as if the answer is obvious, while guilt twists deeper inside me because I know exactly how undeserving I am of it.
I take her hand and lead her down the hall toward the room across from my bedroom. The door is already cracked open, so I push it the rest of the way and flip on the light.
Remi stops in the doorway.
Her gaze sweeps across the room, taking in the rows of vinyl lining the walls. I give her hand a gentle tug, and she follows me inside.
“You rob a record store I don’t know about?”
“Something like that,” I say with a chuckle. “You’re not the only one with secret rooms.”
She gives me a sideways look as her fingers trail along one of the sleeves. “You don’t seem like a vinyl guy. No offense.”
“I wasn’t.”
The words come out quieter than I intended, and Remi glances back at me. Talking about my father this much after years of keeping those memories tucked away has left me more emotional than I expected.