41. Chapter 41
SEAN
WE RETURN TO LONDYN'S APARTMENT later that day.
She decides on a quick nap, then she'll start packing and making preparations.
I quietly let myself in across the hall, where Mike's on monitoring duty.
He stands when I enter. We exchange one of those guy hugs: quick slap on the back, zero emotion, maximum unspoken understanding.
"Any updates since yesterday?" I ask, glancing at the security feeds.
"Nope." Mike settles back into his chair. "While you guys were at the hotel, I set up a few cameras outside the windows. Nothing too noticeable. No sign of anyone suspicious, unless you count the hairless cat who sniffs around the fire escape."
I stand behind him with my arms crossed, scanning the external feeds. "Navy Caps are still silent?"
"Not a whisper." Mike rubs the back of his neck where tension's obviously building. I think both of us will need several deep massages when this is done. "Street's been clean. Had eyes out for Josh too. Nothing."
The news should be a relief, but it's not; it only puts me on edge as I read between the warnings. Miller and Josh might be across the country, but something about those Navy Caps has bothered me from the beginning. I've been eager for them to reappear, but they probably sense that.
"How's she doing?" Mike asks.
"Better." I lean against the wall. "Tough as hell. Most people would be falling apart, but she's so fucking resilient."
Mike gives me a side glance, reading my body language like he can discover the private conversations Londyn and I have. "She's special."
"Yeah. She is."
"And the plan?" He turns fully in his chair now, facing me.
"Three days. We'll get everything together, then fly out."
"Australia's a good choice. Far enough. Different time zone."
"That's the idea."
Mike falls silent and I can't quite read his expression. His body is sagging though, and his fingers are a tangled knot.
My shoulders tense because I'm worried he's going to lay into me again about getting involved with a client. To avoid that, I change topics. "How's Mona and the kids?"
His face immediately brightens in that way it always does when he talks about his family.
"Man, Noah lost another tooth. Kid's gonna be all gums by the time I get home.
" He pulls out his phone, swiping through photos to show me.
"Look. Mateo built this crazy Lego tower.
Mona got a pic before the dog knocked it over. "
The image on his screen shows a bright, colorful structure that looks like it defies several laws of physics. "Architect in the making," I say.
"That or a demolition expert." Mike laughs, swiping to another photo of what I assume is the aftermath. "And Mona's doing good. Morning sickness is finally easing up. Says she's craving pickle juice. Like all the time, which is just..." He makes a gagging noise.
"Sounds delicious," I deadpan.
We both laugh and the tension in my shoulders melts away.
As Mike continues scrolling through family pictures, my eyes drift to the painting hanging on the wall, the one I bought from Sienna's gallery.
The window, the gray interior, the world outside.
When I bought it, I felt trapped behind that window.
Now I'm not so sure where I stand. In the color? In the gray? Somewhere in between?
What I do know is that I can't exactly roll it up and stuff it in a suitcase.
But I like it and I'm not giving it up. I'll have to see if Declan and Sienna can store it for me.
They bought a new place south of San Francisco.
They still travel most of the time, but they wanted somewhere to come back to. Roots and wings, I guess.
Mike's phone buzzes with an incoming text. His face softens as he reads it. "Mona," he says, typing a quick response.
That's my opening.
"You should head home," I say. "We'll get you on a flight tonight. Or first thing tomorrow."
Mike's head snaps up. "What?"
"There's no point in both of us staying. Londyn and I are leaving in three days."
"And you need backup until then." He pockets his phone, his expression hardening into something I recognize from our Marines days: stubborn duty. "I'm not bailing early."
"It's not bailing. It's being practical. Miller is in California. Josh is AWOL. We haven't seen the Navy Caps in weeks. I'd feel better if you went home. I want you safe with your family."
"It's only a few days. And maybe I'll find something in that time. It doesn't seem strange to you? Those Navy Caps."
I clench my jaw because if he's also having suspicions, then something definitely isn't right. "What about them?" I ask, even though I can sense what's going through his head.
"Josh seemed like enough surveillance for Miller, especially since he kidnapped her from the office. That was his plan all along, wasn't it? Why the extra men watching her on the street?"
Yup. His worries are the same as mine. If our Navy Caps aren't connected to Miller, like we apparently both suspect, I want Mike out of here now. I've already put him in enough danger.
"All the more reason for you to get back to your family," I tell him. "Let me handle these last few days. I'll be with Londyn the entire time and we'll make a quick exit to the airport."
Mike scoffs. "What, you think I can't take care of myself? Ten years in the Marines, six in private security, and you're worried I can't handle a couple of guys in baseball caps?"
"It's not that. It's—"
"I know what it is." He stands, bringing us nose to nose. "You're trying to protect everyone. Londyn. Me. My family. Taking it all on those shoulders of yours."
I look away, feeling suddenly exposed.
Mike sighs. "Look, I get it. But I signed on for this job, and I'm seeing it through. Three more days isn't a problem."
"But—"
"And anyway, who's going to keep your reckless ass in line if I'm gone?" He smirks, the tension draining from his stance. "Plus, I can do more digging while you're helping Londyn pack. Maybe figure out who the hell those Navy Cap guys really are. Maybe I'll luck out."
The fight leaves me. Mike's made up his mind, and I know what his expression means: he's not budging. Unless I knock him out and drive him back to Florida myself, he's staying.
I don't like this; my insides are crawling, like roaches beneath my skin. This feels like a really bad idea, and my gut instincts are something I prefer to listen to—worse things seem to happen when I ignore them.
But I also don't want to stand here and argue. Mike's a grown man and aware of the danger. "Fine," I say. "Three days. Then you're on the first flight back to your wife and kids."
"Deal." His smile widens. "Now, with that settled… I owe you an apology."
I uncross my arms, pretty shocked but that. "For what?"
"I was pretty hard on you. About Londyn. Being involved with a client, crossing lines. All that professional boundary bullshit I kept preaching. I'm sorry."
I stuff my hands in my pockets and wait, not sure where this is going.
"Thing is," Mike continues, "I can see it now. What you two have. It's something serious?"
"Yeah. It is."
"Then who am I to be such a hard-ass? You crossed some lines, but it's not like you planned it." He claps me on the shoulder. "I'm happy for you, man. After everything, you deserve someone who makes you feel good about the world. You both do."
I'm still shocked, blinking at him with no idea how to respond. When I woke up this morning, something like this wasn't even on my radar. I'm hit with a sudden warmth I wasn't prepared for. "Thanks," I say. "That means a lot."
"Yeah, well." He returns to his chair, clearly having reached his emotional expression quota for the day. Us men have our limits. "Don't get used to the mushy shit. I'm still gonna give you hell about everything else."
I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in days. "Wouldn't expect anything less."
We're quiet for a moment, the weight of the past weeks settling between us like the shared warmth of a foxhole on a cold night.
There's something comforting about standing shoulder to shoulder with someone who's seen the same darkness you have, who knows what it's like to be shot at and make split-second decisions that ripple outward in ways you can never fully predict.
That's why I won't feel settled until I know Mike is back with his family where he belongs.
Three days and this will all be over.
"I should get back to Londyn," I say finally. "Check if she needs anything."
Mike nods. "I've got things covered here. Go take care of your girl."
I smile at that.
My girl.
Those are the most beautiful words in the world.