Page 52 of The Secrets We Share

“You think it’s related to what she gave us?” I ask because I know it’s the first thought that will pop into Keira’s head.

“Timing’s inconvenient for it to be something else, but I can’t confirm otherwise.”

“Fuck! This is not what I needed. I’m about to tell Keira this morning.” I don’t need to explain more. He knows what I’ve been holding back from her. “Now, I have to break this news to her, too.”

“Don’t shoot the messenger.”

“Really?”

“Too soon?”

“Way too fucking soon.”

“I’m sure she had a list a mile long of people looking to take her out. I’m not about to shoulder her death, and neither should Keira.”

“Right, well, I’ll just tell her that and say it was your advice.”

“Fuck you,” he spits, but there’s a lightness to his tone. “I’ll keep you posted if I hear anything more.”

“Alright, man. Thanks for the update. Oh, and tell Stacey to keep her phone on her. I’m sure Keira will reach out today after I dump all this shit on her plate.”

“Copy that.”

The line goes silent. I let the phone clatter to the countertop and grip my fingertips around the edge, hanging my head. Another stone on the pile, trying to topple the entire thing. Going through the motions, I make us coffee, steel my shoulders, and head back to the bedroom.

I leave her mug on my nightstand and slip back into bed, sitting up against the headboard. Weighing my options, I spend the next hour debating which piece of shitty news I should start with while watching her sleep peacefully. Ultimately, it comes down to what will send her spiraling further. Her body begins to stir against the sheets, eyelids fluttering open. A small, sleepy smile pulls across her face when she spots me.

“Morning, beautiful.” I finally break the silence of the still room.

“Another coffee wake-up, I see.” She eyes the empty mug in my hands, raising a sassy eyebrow.

“Sorry to disappoint.” I let out a small huff of laughter, reaching back behind me for her now cold mug of coffee. “It’s cold. I can go warm it up for you.”

“No need,” she says, sitting cross-legged next to me. The sheet wrapped around her waist, breast bared to distract me. “Were you watching me sleep?”

“Mhmm.”

“Creep.”

“Not the first time, sweetness. And I can promise you it won’t be the last.”

That gets a big smile from her. She hides it behind the rim of her coffee cup, taking a sip.

“Why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?”

The saying seems ridiculous now that I have a dog for the first time in my life. I can’t imagine anyone kicking Cinder and leaving me with what I can only assume is more a look of dread than one of sorrow.

“We need to talk.” I hate those four little words the moment they come out of my mouth. I can see the panic rise in her eyes. Her anxiety is diving headfirst at the wrong assumption. “Stop right now. It’s not about us.” When her shoulders visibly relax, mine follow. “James called earlier. He got an alert that something happened.”

“Would you just spit it out? This peeling off the Band-Aid shit is making it worse, Harkin.”

“Nikita’s dead, taken out by a sniper. It doesn’t mean it has anything to do with us or what we asked her to investigate. James said the place was crawling with suits, and it seems she was deeper in with the feds than she let on.”

Keira’s eyes are wide, her finger thrumming against the mug gripped tightly between both hands. She doesn’t respond, but I can see the wheels turning in her mind. It’s hitting her hard, but she doesn’t show it with tears or theatrics. Instead, her face gets this pinched, determined look, like she’s about to jump out of bed and make a break for Nikita’s apartment. I drop my hand to her knee.

“There isn’t anything we can do. If we go poking around the scene, it’ll only draw suspicion our way. We can’t afford to have that kind of heat on us right now when we’re working against two of the five crime syndicates in New York City. But James is keeping an eye on things from afar. He’ll let us know if anything new comes of it.”

She’s quiet for another moment, staring into her mug like the answers to all our problems are swirling around in there for her. “Is there proof?”

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