Page 80 of Kept

“No,” he says quietly. “You should. I wondered what I had done wrong, to make you look at me the way you have.”

I pick at the end of my dress. “I just… it didn’t match up with what I thought of you. And then I realized that I don’t know much at all, and it just… got to me.”

I’m dreading his reaction, but when I look at him, he’s smiling.

“I’m relieved,” he says before I can question him. “I thought maybe… maybe you’d changed your mind about being here. I didn’t want to push you, so I stayed away rather than force myself on you.”

I flush. “Oh. No, I haven’t. Changed my mind, I mean.”

“I’m very glad to hear it,” he says softly. “I missed having you next to me at meals.”

I don’t have to force the smile that blooms, relief filling me that the only issue here is my own stupid assumptions. “I missed you next to me, too.”

“Well, we can rectify that.” A gasp catches in my throat as he scoops me up, and I blow it out when I’m settled in his lap. He stares down at me, a smile curving his lips. “Much better.”

“I feel like a parcel,” I say lightly, but I’m fighting back a stupid giggle. “I do have legs, you know.”

“I know,” he says, reaching out and picking up a roasted carrot with his fork. He lifts it to my lips, and I take it, wrapping my lips around the tines. “But I very much enjoy taking care of you, Zella.”

I swallow down the food before I respond. “It seems like you take care of everyone. Me. Ryder. Enzo.”

When I mention Enzo’s name, the brightness in his gaze dims. “I suppose so. Just the way things worked out.”

“Will you tell me? Not about their stories,” I say hastily when he looks hesitant. “But about you. Your story. Ryder said you worked with your dad?”

“I did.” He offers me some more food, and I take it. Everything tastes better when he feeds it to me. “My dad worked in law enforcement for years. He was a well-respected senior cop, and then he moved to the FBI. He retired early, but he got bored, so he set up an investigative agency.”

“And you helped?” I ask. I try to imagine a little Maverick, toddling after his dad, and the image makes me grin. He’s such a giant, the image of him smaller than anyone is hard to imagine.

“I did. Never wanted to do anything else,” he admits ruefully. “My dad taught me everything he knew. I did join the force for a few years to get some field experience, but I ended up back where I started. Too many rules there. We’re a little more… flexible, in how we do things.”

“And that’s how you met Ryder and Enzo.”

He nods. “I knew I couldn’t leave them where they were. They both deserved better than the shitty hand they were dealt in life, and I could help with that.”

“You’re a good person,” I say, and he snorts.

“I believe good people deserve good things, and bad people deserve everything bad,” he says quietly. “Life isn’t always fair, but we try to even out the scales a little. It’s why I left the police. Too many bad people getting away with it, and too many of the good ones losing out.”

I sigh. “The world seems like an awfully complicated place.”

He laughs. “It is. I’m sorry you haven’t seen a lot of it yet, but I’m conscious that Moore is still around.”

I nod. It makes sense. “After so many years, this feels like a lot of freedom to me.”

Maverick frowns. “I don’t want to overwhelm you, but I promise things will change. In fact… there’s a street fair next week in the city. Maybe you’d like to come? If all of us go, we can take turns keeping an eye out. I think you’d enjoy it.”

My hands start to tremble. A street fair.

“Do you mean it?” I ask him eagerly, and he laughs, a low rumble that I can feel against my side.

“I never say anything I don’t mean,” he says, and I grin, the smile stretching from ear to ear.

“I’d love to go,” I tell him earnestly. “With all of you.”

“Good.”

He continues feeding me in silence, until I begin to fidget. “Where’s Enzo?” I ask, and he looks away from me.

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