Page 94 of Disguised as Love

I stood and headed for the door. His question halted me. “Are you just saying that to protect her?”

“What?” I asked, looking back.

“That they’re done?”

I shook my head. “No. They’re done.”

I could tell he didn’t believe me one hundred percent, and it pricked at me because we’d been a team for so long. We’d had to trust each other completely. But if I chose Raisa, this was exactly what I had to expect. People who’d always looked at me with confidence before would be needled with suspicion.

We stared each other down for too long before he rose and joined me at the door, saying, “I’m going to miss the fuck out of you.”

“You’ll finally get the big desk by the window and the chance to boss some other shitty special agents around.”

He laughed. “It’s a tough job, but someone has to be the asshole.”

? ? ?

I was barely keeping my feet beneath me when I hailed the cab. I hesitated, wanting nothing more than to lie down in my own bed, but I had one more stop I needed to make. I gave the cabbie the address and closed my eyes while the sounds of New York City piled in around me. The chatter and noise were different from the city I’d just left and yet the same—a contained sort of energy seemingly living beneath the streets.

When the driver stopped the car, I had to force myself out of the back, tossing the money in at him. The doorman greeted me as he opened the door, and I could barely wave back at him. I pushed the button and headed up. The elevator dropped me into a hallway with several apartments, but I could already hear the music before I even got to the one I’d come for.

I let myself in with my key, and the piano crashed to a halt.

“Cruz?” my mother’s voice rang out, and then she was running toward me and squeezing me in a hug so strong it felt like it could break me. How someone as thin as her could do it had always been a mystery to me, but she was renowned for her hugs.

Her tight black spirals were hidden beneath her knotted headwrap she slept in, and it put her face in sharp relief. Her cheekbones were high and sharp below eyes that matched mine—a deep brown that could look black in certain lights. Her skin was a shade darker than mine, but it was silky and smooth despite her years. She kept her body in as good a shape as she did her skin and hair. Being in the public eye so much demanded it, but it was partly her genes. Nan was the same way. Ageless, tall, lithe, and beautiful.

She was in a soft robe as if she’d been heading for bed when the piano had called to her. That wasn’t an unusual occurrence. It was actually more unusual for her not to be called to the piano at night.

She stepped back, searched my face, and then hugged me again.

“You’re okay,” she breathed out as if she’d doubted it—or maybe to reassure herself.

I squeezed her tight.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” I told her, meaning it.

She pushed away, putting both hands to my face and assessing me once more.

“You’re exhausted.”

I nodded.

“But you stopped by so I could see you with my own eyes.”

“Yes. Where’s Nan?” I asked.

“At Aunt Penny’s,” she said. “Our little scare filled her with some need to go see her sister. I can’t imagine why.”

Mom rolled her eyes at me, but I was too tired to react. Nan’s sister was in a care facility upstate, and while she went to see her a lot, the visits were usually shoved in between Mom’s tour dates because Aunt Penny was a sour pain in the ass.

“Are you hungry?” Mom asked.

“I could use a finger of whiskey more,” I told her the truth.

I sank onto the soft leather couch that there was barely room for between the grand piano and the bookshelves lining the brick walls. Mom headed for the kitchen, banging cupboards and drawers before returning with not only the whiskey but a plate of cheese biscuits Nan never let disappear from our house.

She watched me as I ate and drank.

---