Page 58 of Overstaying His Welcome

Arick pulled his laptop from his bag, opening it slowly to draw Brock’s eye. “We’d love those names, sir, if you remember them. It would be a big help.”

Brock’s gaze moved to meet mine. In them, I saw his understanding of what was going on even though we didn’t really say too many details.

I wondered if his loyalty to the kids he took in would overrule this. Or would the kid who got away mean more to him in a sense?

When he spoke, I got my answer. “Gabriel Monil and Lachlan Pratt. Those were the two most vocal in their frustrations.”

Arick went to work pulling up the two names. I didn’t have to be in the office to know Memphis was doing the same.

Chelsea came back in the room carrying a tray covered in glasses, a pitcher of water and a pitcher of tea. “Now then, who’s thirsty? I’m sure you boys can spare another half hour or so to tell us more about yourselves before you run off to save the day.”

And that’s how two hours disappeared as we caught up with my old foster parents. We shared tales of how they’d changed over the years, along with me talking about the start of NightShade and my relationship with Chance. They were overjoyed to see me in a happy relationship, as well as finding out Arick and Orion were part of that family I’d surrounded myself with.

By the time we left, I felt like a piece of me had healed. Like I’d gotten something back I hadn’t even noticed was missing.

If only I’d have been able to hold onto that feeling for longer.

CHAPTER 18

MEMPHIS

“Gabriel Monil and Lachlan Pratt,”I muttered as I dove into a search for the two men. Arick would be doing the same, though I could hear over the comms how much the older couple was trying to keep him included in the conversation.

That meant I had to take the lead.

“You need me to make a food run?” Sinclair asked sweetly from beside me.

My man knew there were certain things that would fuel me through an intense data session like this. Food, fucking, or funny memes — though that last one was harder to find these days. I’d trolled the internet for so long, most weren’t as funny anymore.

Fucking was off the table considering so many people were still around. I didn’t want anyone to see my sexy man while in the throes of passion. It was for me only!

Which of course left food.

“Burgers and fries. Shake too. The cookies and cream one.”

He laughed. “I know, boss. I’m familiar enough with your habits. Let me see if the others want something too.”

As he stood to leave, I grabbed his hand. “Wait. Don’t go out alone. You need to take a buddy. Cohen!”

My teammate leapt from his reclined position. “Yeah?”

“Can you go do a food run with Sinclair? I don’t think it’s a good idea for any of us to be out alone. Lune is getting bold.”

“Agreed,” my teammate said. “Let’s head out. The sooner we fix his hangry problem, the better we can be about wrapping this case up.”

I rolled my eyes at his teasing. Our ability to wrap up the case had nothing to do with my hunger. It was all about Lune’s skill at hiding in plain sight. Even when we knew he’d been somewhere, the fucker was hard to nail down.

Admittedly, I admired him a bit for the finesse it took to pull that off. In a digital world, not leaving a footprint was iconic.

Of course, he could when he wanted to. Like when he donated to Chance’s campaign.

The campaign that was slowly dying.

I pulled up the stats from voters to see a shocking turn of events. Instead of the downslide I’d come to expect from his lack of campaigning, there was a big uptick in his percentages. Notes from commenters spoke of how they knew he must have been struggling with the fire and its aftermath. Many suggested he might have been dealing with stressors before the event.

Oh, how right they were.

If only they knew the truth.

---