Kaos placed the last cardboard box in the back of his beat-up Toyota and closed the hatch. When he turned back, Lake stood by the door to the studio, looking torn as hell.
“I don’t want you to go,” she said quietly when he got to her and stepped inside her bubble. Only from that distance could he see her lip wobble. She was tough as nails and had been his rock, but she had two runners in a race that could only end with a guillotine at the finish line.
“I know, baby, I do.” Kaos wrapped his arms around her and let her weep against his shoulder. He sighed and relaxed into the hug, taking comfort where he could get it.
He glanced to the side, at the studio window he’d painted a year ago. He’d miss the f*****g octopus and most of his regular clients and even the staff there. Everyone except
