Page 135 of Stolen Faith

“I sense sarcasm. That’s my thing.”

“I’m better at it,” Juliette said. “So I think it’s my thing.”

Eric laughed, shaking his head. But then he sat forward, staring at her intently. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” she said immediately.

“Okay. I’m not going to tell you how to feel, but I’m saying that I know, better than anyone, how heavy the load is.”

Juliette licked her lips and looked down at her hands, his words unexpected.

“I know that you’re holding on so fucking tight, and with both hands, trying to protect everyone.” Eric’s voice was soft and calm. Just stating a fact, not rendering any judgment. “You had a major breach, and you’re so focused on controlling the information and putting out fires that you haven’t given yourself time to grieve.”

Grieve was an odd word choice. “Sounds like…you’re talking from experience.”

“Revenge is easier to focus on than grief, every time.”

Now she looked up because she could hear the grief in his tone and realized what he was referencing. She knew at least some of his story, knew who he grieved for, thanks to Franco’s amazing ability to both find information in records and get information from people.

“No one died,” Juliette said after a moment. “All my people are alive.”

“Grief isn’t just for death.”

Juliette let out a soft laugh. “Oh?”

“You can grieve for yourself. Grieve because you’ll never be the same person you were before the torture.”

Juliette dropped her head back, eyes closed. That way the tears wouldn’t fall.

“And I don’t just mean physical,” he went on. “Being helpless is a form of mental torture. Watching someone you love hurt is torture. Not knowing if someone you love is alive or dead…more torture.”

Juliette laughed. She couldn’t help it. It was a sad, bitter, watery laugh, but it was a laugh. She sat up straight, wiping her eyes. “Franco is a serious information leak.”

“I’m pretty sure Colum is too,” Eric said. “And I can’t even order him to shut up.”

He sounded so aggravated that this time, Juliette’s laugh was genuine amusement. “Is it espionage if we know it’s happening?”

“No idea.” Eric sat back, elbows spread as he laced his fingers behind his head. His massive arms and chest filled the screen.

“Eric?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For understanding. What you said about not having time…you’re not wrong.”

“Say it. Say I’m right.”

“I’d rather swallow glass,” she said cheerfully.

Eric roared with laughter. “You should be friends with Ni—” His voice cut off.

“Who?” Juliette perked up because his comment had been unplanned, unguarded.

“No one.”

“Really? No one. Come now, Eric. You’re better than that.”

Eric crossed his arms. “Get some therapy.”

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