28. Chapter 28
SEAN
THE AFTERNOON LIGHT STRETCHES ACROSS the apartment floor like it's searching for something, same as me. While Mike has been on monitor duty, I've been on a break, sitting on my damn bed like some brooding teenager. I've been flipping through the same poetry book, reading the same lines.
My mind has a problem that makes it hard to function: it's clouded from what Londyn told me yesterday. And from the decision I have to make.
Her words keep playing on repeat: Miller, the party, the people on stage, getting kidnapped, assaulted, released and then threatened.
Jesus. My hands clench around the book spine as rage threatens to surface again.
But beneath the anger is uncertainty. She went through hell, and now she's asking for a weekend alone.
Is she really ready? Am I?
I set the book on the floor next to my bed, then I walk to the tiny window.
Outside, Manhattan goes about its business.
A delivery truck blocks traffic while the driver argues with someone about a parking spot.
A woman pushes a stroller around the chaos, her face tight with irritation.
Life is moving forward. People rush from one place to another, never stopping to wonder if they're heading toward something or running from it.
Been wondering that myself a lot lately. My whole life has been about running toward duty, toward the next mission, the next person to protect. But what happens when protecting someone means crossing every line I've drawn?
Through the grimy glass, I scan for anyone suspicious.
Where the hell are those Navy Caps? The whole thing doesn't sit right.
Miller sent thugs to threaten Londyn after her assault because he's a sick fuck wanting to keep her scared and silent.
That behavior checks out. But why the recent surveillance?
After what Londyn told me, I can only draw the conclusion that the Navy Caps are the same thugs from California.
Miller must've sent them. That's what the evidence says, but…
My jaw tightens. The sophistication bothers me. Those two were more than just hired thugs. They're trained. They're the kind of men a crime boss would have. Miller is involved with human trafficking, but is he the man in charge? Or is he running it for someone else?
Too many open threads.
There are no Navy Caps outside—not that I expected to find one—and nothing suspicious.
I do spot a couple on the sidewalk. The guy is carrying grocery bags while the woman beside him is laughing at something on her phone.
Normal. Easy. The kind of uncomplicated connection I've never really had.
The kind Londyn deserves after everything she's been through.
What an amazing woman and so fucking strong. She showed so much courage as she shared the ugliest parts of her story yesterday. And the way she trusted me with her pain…
But what if we shouldn't have this weekend? What if she woke up this morning and changed her mind?
Before I decide anything, I need confirmation again, especially since this is such a delicate thing. I grab my phone and shoot her a quick text.
Me: You sure?
It's not much but I'm sure she'll know what I'm asking.
Londyn: Yes. Friday at 8.
So it's up to me then.
I either keep my distance or agree to whatever she has planned. Whatever she needs .
I run my tongue over my teeth, tasting the bitter remnants of this morning's green tea and all my unspoken doubts.
If I cross this line, if I send Mike home and say yes to whatever Londyn wants, there's definitely no going back.
I'll have broken every code of professional conduct I've ever followed.
But isn't that line already smudged? I kissed her. I've touched her. I've watched her pleasure herself while thinking of me. I've promised her 'anything.'
I offered to kill someone, for fuck's sake.
That promise is heavy. In that moment, staring at her tears, I would have done it. I would've hunted Miller down and ended him with my bare hands. The darkness of that impulse should scare me more than it does.
Maybe I'm just tired of men like him ruining the world.
Maybe I want Londyn to know she never has to fear seeing him again.
I press a palm against the warm window glass, feeling a burning ache in my chest that's too familiar. My body is voting against me. This isn't just desire for an incredible woman, though there's plenty of that pulsing through me with enough force to detonate a grenade. This is something deeper.
Last night, I hardly slept. Just stared at the ceiling and thought about how she might look waking up beside me. What her hair would feel like spread across my chest. How her laugh would sound when it's free and open.
I'm already too far gone.
The military and my security work have always given me structure and purpose, but they've never given me what I really need, which is someone to share the quiet moments with. I need someone whose face lights up when I walk into a room and who chooses me, day after day, because they want to.
I need connection and somewhere to belong.
This is such a dangerous place for me to be, right between my duty and what I've always craved.
What if there could be a future for us? What if, after her stalkers are caught and this job is over, we could have something real? Where I'm not just her protector but her partner?
I might be ready for that. After years of keeping everyone at arm's length and defining myself by what I can do rather than who I am, I could be ready.
But above all of that, am I what she needs?
What if I fail her?
I glance at my watch. Shit. If I'm going to do this, if I'm going to send Mike home for the weekend, I need to do it now. It's Thursday, so Mike needs enough time to pack and get to the airport. And I need to hope there's a flight that leaves at a good time tomorrow morning.
I glance at the clear sky outside the window. So what's my decision? Draw a hard line between me and Londyn and stay the soldier who keeps his distance? Or burn every bridge as I move closer to her, toward something I might not be equipped to handle?
Wunmi's face surfaces and her last moments replay in hideous detail. But for the first time, I'm not as focused on my mistake.
I never got to say goodbye to my sis.
It was so quick, like the snap of fingers. One moment she was alive, the next gone.
It makes me sick to even have this thought, but what if something happens to Londyn? What if it has nothing to do with the stalkers, and she simply has an accident one day? Hit by a car. A disease the doctors can't cure. A random shooting in a shopping center.
Life is fragile and too easily snuffed out. Despite my worries, I don't want to regret not getting this time with her, even if I'm not ready or she's moving too fast after her revelation. Even if we're both stumbling in the dark, I want it.
I think that's what freedom really is. Not the absence of duty or danger, but the choice to reach for something despite them.
Guess I've decided.
My phone is suddenly in my hand and my thumbs are typing in a ticket website. I book a flight to Florida for tomorrow morning, 10:15 AM, along with Mike's return ticket for Tuesday. The confirmation page stares back at me as my heart pounds.
It's done.
I still don't have all the answers for my doubts, but I do have the certainty that I can't walk away from her now. I just need to get Mike to go along with this without getting suspicious.
I frown at my phone. Yeah, good luck with that.
First, I should butter him up. He's been at the monitoring hub for hours. The man's probably hungry. Definitely going stir-crazy staring at those screens. Perfect opportunity.
I grab my wallet and head toward the door. "Going out for tea," I announce as I leave my bedroom. I play it casual and like I don't have ulterior motives. "Need anything?"
Mike glances up, lifting a brow. "Coffee wouldn't hurt. Strong enough to wake the dead."
"I'll see what I can do."
I leave the building quickly. The late afternoon air hits me with the scent of exhaust and someone's cigarette smoke from a nearby stoop.
At the café on the corner, I order Mike's usual heart-attack-in-a-cup along with an herbal tea for myself.
Then I spot something to sweeten the deal: those maple pecan things that Mike's been raving about since we got here. I add two to my order.
Butter him up. Then drop the bomb.
When I get back to the apartment, he's still hunched in front of the monitors like they might sprout wings and fly away if he blinks.
"Special delivery," I announce, handing him the goods.
He sets the coffee cup down then pops open the white paper bag.
His face lights up like I've just handed him the keys to a Ferrari.
"Holy shit, you got the maple things? I was just thinking about these.
" He tears into the wax paper, taking a bite that's definitely too big for polite company.
Crumbs scatter across his lap as he lets out an indecent moan.
"Wish I could send some of these to Mona.
She'd go crazy for these. But thanks, man. You're a goddamn mind reader."
I could say the same about him because he just gave me the perfect opening.
I settle in the chair beside him, sipping my passion fruit herbal tea and scanning the security feeds. Londyn is working at her desk and everything else is quiet.
I glance at my watch like I'm bored then say in a bland tone, "What if you surprised Mona with some this weekend?"
Mike laughs, clearly thinking I'm joking.
"How fun would that be? They'd be so surprised!
I bet Mona would faint." His laugh fades and he screws up his face.
"Though seriously, she might. She's done it before, so I don't think I'd show up out of the blue.
She needs a heads up. She's carrying precious cargo, so can't have her passing out on the floor. " More laughing.
I pat his shoulder, going in for the kill. "Well, pack your bags. You're heading out tomorrow morning."
His laugh cuts off abruptly like I've just spoken in tongues. "Wait, what?"
"I booked you a flight for the morning. You've been working hard, and I know you miss your family."
"Sean, you didn't… I can't just leave. We have a job."
"We have a job with zero developments. Navy Caps are in the wind. We've hit dead ends everywhere. Go be with your family. It's just a long weekend and you'll fly back Tuesday."
He shakes his head, but I can see the longing in his eyes. "You don't need to do this. I can't let you cover the cost of—"
"Already done." I take a sip of tea to hide my growing nervousness. Play it cool. "You've been stuck in this shitty apartment for weeks now. Go home. See your kids. Make your wife happy. Seriously, I've got things covered."
He's wavering. I can see it in the way his eyes dart between me and his phone, like he's already imagining calling Mona with the news. But then his eyes narrow as the first shadow of suspicion settles over them. His instincts are kicking in.
Damnit. He's too good at his job.
"Wait," he says with a harder edge to his voice. "What's really going on?"
I scoff. "Nothing. Just trying to do something nice for—"
"Is this about Londyn?" The question lands like explosives between us. "Are you two—"
"No," I say, too quickly. My denial sounds unconvincing even to my ears.
Mike's eyes narrow more and he frowns with a harsh disappointment. "I've never known you to be a liar. You've always been the most honest guy I know."
He just had to say that. The guilt stabs me like a serrated knife in the kidneys because e's right. I've never been good at deception, never wanted to be.
"Fine," I say. "I won't lie."
That's enough for him and he doesn't push for more.
His jaw just tightens as he shakes his head.
"You know I don't approve of whatever the hell you're doing.
I warned you to stop. And those Navy Caps are still out there.
They vanished but that doesn't mean they're gone.
And now you want me to leave? That's not like you. Not when there's an active threat."
It's not like me. But maybe I've never known myself as good as I thought. "They've been dark for days. She'll be with me. I'll keep her safe."
Mike shakes his head like he can't believe what I'm saying.
"Or maybe they're waiting for us to let our guard down.
" He glances at Londyn on the feed. "You're risking our ability to do our jobs, which is to provide protection and keep that wonderful woman safe.
Distraction leads to mistakes, and I'm not going to change my mind on that. "
I wince internally, though my face remains impassive. "I won't let it."
Mike studies me—weighing, judging, deciding.
Finally, his shoulders drop, the fight going out of him.
"I hope you're right." He sighs, then takes another bite of his sugary pecan thing.
As he speaks, his words are muffled from food.
"You better be right. You better not be making a fucking mistake.
" Another sigh. "But thanks for the tickets. I'll go pack."
He grabs the second pecan thing and his coffee, then leaves the room.
I sink into my chair feeling exhausted. There's too much on my shoulders. Am I just being selfish? Is this what Londyn really needs, or am I telling myself that because I want her?
The sunlight has shifted, hitting one of the monitors and blinding me, so I change the angle. Time is moving forward, as it always does. This time on Saturday, what will Londyn and I be doing?
It'll be whatever she has planned. Whatever she needs.
"Maybe they're waiting for us to let our guard down."
Maybe, but they don't know about Mike. They only spotted me. Besides, I'll be with Londyn the entire weekend; I won't leave her side for a second.
She'll be safe.
I close my eyes, trying to quiet the voice in my head that whispers of failure and mistakes. Of Wunmi's blood on my hands and all the ways this could go wrong.
But there's a louder voice that speaks of possibilities.
I listen to that one instead.