The warehouse mess was still eating at the back of my head, but the thought of Anna flickered at the edges of my mind like a persistent flame. We hadn’t talked about the lies, the secrets, the way she’d looked at me that night—raw and unraveled—before I’d stitched her back together with my hands and teeth. But that was the thing about us. We didn’t need to talk. The silence between us was its own language, and right now, it said normal.
Or as normal as we got.
I checked my watch. Late enough to drag her home.
I headed for her office, which was on the same floor as mine. I needed her as close as I could keep. I would have wanted her inside my room, honestly, but I knew she wouldn’t have approved.
The door was cracked open, and I caught sight of her inside, leaning against the edge of he
