: Chapter 25
I frown when the intercom on my desk buzzes, announcing a guest I didn’t expect. I sit up as Zane walks into my office moments later, a man I don’t recognize by his side. His visit completely catches me by surprise, and it takes me a moment to rise from my seat.
“Zane,” I murmur.
He smiles tightly, seemingly still somewhat awkward around me. I’ve gone home a couple of times to check up on Celeste on weekends when Ezra’s been here, and Zane and I have gotten a little closer, but we’re still miles off from how we used to treat each other.
“Apologies for dropping by unannounced,” he says, sounding hesitant, like part of him genuinely thought I’d turn him away. He’s been on my list of approved visitors for years, and that’ll never change. “I wanted to introduce you to Elijah Kingston, but making it happen was all quite short notice.”
I tense as the name rings a bell, my movements stiff as I shake the hand of a man very few have ever met. Elijah Kingston is one of four Kingston brothers, and the most elusive of them. They call him the King of Spades, and though he supposedly runs the Kingston family’s parent company, rumor has it that’s just a front. More than once, I’ve heard substantial rumors claiming Elijah Kingston was behind successful presidential campaigns and the rise and fall of several large companies. The man single-handedly influences the world economy however he sees fit, without anyone realizing. Elijah Kingston is the man you turn to when no one else can help you, but making a deal with him is no different to making a deal with the devil.
I look into his dark eyes, entirely unable to get a read on him. He smiles, seemingly politely, but something about him is unsettling. He strikes me as the kind of man with no conscience, which is likely exactly how he transformed the Kingston family’s reputation, almost entirely removing all their visible ties to organized crime, turning one of his brothers into a politician and the others into respectable and generous business owners. You can’t do that without getting your hands dirty.
“I didn’t know,” Zane says, looking down. “I didn’t hear about Tyra until Celeste told me a few days ago. I know my words don’t mean anything so long after the fact, but had I known, I’d have been there for you, Archer. The moment I found out, I reached out to Silas Sinclair, but he specializes in personal security and wasn’t able to help.”
He glances at Elijah then. “I asked one of my friends for a personal favor. I can’t make any promises, but if anyone can find her, it’s Elijah.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “I get what it’s like to need answers, to need closure. I know this won’t make up for all the harm I did in the last few years, but consider it an olive branch.”
I nod, surprised by the gesture. I know Zane well enough to hear the words he isn’t saying. He’s sorry I got caught in the crossfire when Celeste ended things with him years ago, and he’s trying to get back to where we used to be. Maybe we’ll never be as close as brothers again, but I appreciate his efforts.
“Tell me everything you know,” Elijah says, and I do, recounting every detail, every clue I’ve uncovered that led nowhere. He listens patiently and takes notes, his face completely emotionless. It takes me a moment to realize why his behavior seems so familiar—he’s acting the way every law enforcement agent did when they interviewed me about Tyra. It’s entirely at odds with the rumors about him, and I’m not sure what to make of it.
“There are police investigative reports,” I tell him, concluding my recap, and he nods as he glances at his tablet.
“I’ll review those,” he says.
I begin to tell him that they’re classified, only for him to shut me up with a smile. Right. Nothing is classified to a man like him.
“I’ll do what I can,” he says, his gaze drifting away. “I know what it’s like to live with uncertainty. It’s almost like your whole life is on hold, like you need permission to live, even knowing you’ll never get it. I don’t know if we’ll find her, Mr. Harrison, but I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen.”
I nod and shake his hand, oddly reassured by the look in his eyes. He looks like someone that truly gets it, but I can’t tell if it’s genuine or not. “Thank you,” I tell him, feeling lighter than I have in a while. “Both of you.”
Zane nods and steps backs, a hint of discomfort in his expression, like he wishes he could do more when he’s already given me more hope than he can imagine.
I sit as the two men walk away, involuntarily reaching for the charm around my neck. Permission to live. I didn’t even realize that’s how I feel until Elijah voiced it. I feel like I’m not allowed to move on until we know what happened to Tyra, and for so long, I didn’t even try. In the last couple of days, the guilt has started to turn into resentment, and I suspect it has everything to do with Serenity.
I’m on autopilot as I walk out of my office in search of a glimpse of her. It’s become my favorite hobby, and I take a moment to enjoy it, watching her bite on the edge of her pen as she thinks, before scribbling something down on the countless to-do lists she loves to stick to her monitor.
Being with her was supposed to be simple, but somehow, the thought of this thing between us being temporary doesn’t sit well with me. “Fuck,” I mutter to myself when she leans back in her seat, the sunlight hitting her face beautifully.
She looks up and finds me staring at her, her expression instantly showing that she’s flustered. She doesn’t know, does she? She makes me want to live again—fully. I’m enthralled as she rises from her seat, her eyes moving around furtively as she walks past me and looks back, our eyes locking before she disappears around the corner. I grin before following her, my heart skipping a beat when I realize she’s headed to my office.
Serenity gasps when I pull her against me moments after my door closes behind us, my hand cupping the back of her neck, her eyes on mine. “Archer,” she breathes. “I just…I…um… You seemed like you needed—”
“You,” I tell her, my head dipping down. “I needed you.” More than I even realized. I don’t know what it is about her. Maybe it’s the fact that she knows me like no one else does, the way she’s been there through it all and the way she shares my pain. I’m not sure what it is about her that allows me to let her in like I’ve let no one else—not even Tyra.
She sighs, her hands finding their way to my shoulders as she rises to her tiptoes and meets me halfway, my lips crashing against hers in a needy, all-consuming kind of way. She moans against my mouth, and it drives me fucking wild. I know I only have a few moments with her, but fuck, I wish I could carry her to my desk and make her scream my name for everyone to hear. My need to claim her, to mark her…it’s new, not something I’ve ever felt before. This isn’t escapism, like I thought it’d be. It’s so much more, and it’s everything she doesn’t want.
I know exactly why Serenity chose me—because she didn’t think I’d ever be serious about her. She thinks I’m emotionally unavailable, forever tied to Tyra, and I’m starting to wonder if that’s true.