Page 50 of Catch Me When I Fall

I was silent for a moment before putting the phone on speaker and set it on my desk. My eyes shot up to double check my office door was shut—and locked. Nosy motherfuckers.

Bracing my hands on the desk, I bend my head and let out a sigh.

“What’s eating at you, brother?” Mags asked.

I shook my head, refusing to let the thoughts I’d managed to push back last night take over. “You called me, remember? Something going on?”

He was silent.

The thing about Mags was, he was always silent. He was never much of a talker, but there was something about this silence that worried me.

“Fuck, you are fucked,” he muttered. “Fuckin’ lost track of time over that woman, haven’t you?”

I blinked, my brows snapping together. “What? No, I haven’t.”

“Last week was the tenth, brother,” he reminded me softly—too softly.

My stomach twisted, a stabbing pain taking over at the reminder.

The tenth of June.

I closed my eyes, the phantom pain in my face taking over. “Shit,” I pushed out.

“Gray—”

“Fuck, Mags,” I breathed through clenched teeth. Memories of that day came rushing back. The rusted knife, the terrorists in masks holding me down on the table as they demanded answers I would never give. My scar ached, and I brought my hand up to it.

“Fuck,” he growled. “Dammit, I’m fucking sorry, Grayson. I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t worry about me, Mags,” I said, lifting my head and letting out the breath I’d been holding. That was the only thing that seemed to make the phantom pain to disappear: stop breathing.

Go fucking figure.

“How are you holding up?” I asked.

We’d made a promise to each other to always check in on that day, no matter what. Years ago, Mags didn’t want to have a cell phone. He wanted no communication outside of Hallow Ranch, but our promise was the exception. He’d written letters, and I wrote them back, no matter where I was or who I was hunting. When he got a phone, we never missed a call. I’d always make sure to call him back by midnight on that day.

I failed that.

I broke our fucking promise because I was so wrapped up in her.

“Fuck, Mags…” I trailed off, shame coating my tongue.

“Grayson, it’s okay,” he said calmly. “I figured you were on the hunt.”

“Are you okay?” I pressed. That day was a trigger for both of us.

“Yeah, brother, I’m okay,” he said quietly. “It’s getting easier. Truth be told, I’d almost forgotten the date, but then Val invited everyone up to the house for dinner, and I saw the calendar on the wall.”

Val. Valerie. Denver Langston’s wife.

“She invites you boys up to the house?” I asked in disbelief.

He grunted. “Once a week. She’s a good woman. She’s good to Caleb, like a mother to him,” he mused.

“Jigs, Beau, and twins? How are they?” I asked, taking a seat. I’d met all the Hallow Ranch cowboys a few years ago when I first went to Hayden, Colorado. They were like family to Mags, and I was happy he’d found his place in the world after getting out of the Marines.

A part of me was still searching for mine.

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