Page 83 of Unexpected Redemption

It’s even written in Tasha’s broken English.

My eyes scan the sentence three more times as I attempt to figure out what the hell that could possibly mean. When I return to my seat, I scratch the message onto my notepad before I forget what it said. Perhaps something will come to me later.

“It’s like a riddle. I suspect they didn’t want to answer me directly because they don’t know who might intercept the communication. They aren’t very trusting.” He takes the tablet back. “I take it from your face you don’t know what it means.”

I shake my head, nibbling on my lip. “Not really. Did it come from Tasha or Savin?”

“They’re together. So it could be either of them. Or both. My contact didn’t say.”

“Interesting.” Flicking my gaze to the ceiling, I repeat the message in my head. The rhythmic click of my pen oddly soothes me. “Well, Tasha called mebutterfly. I wonder if it was a message for me.”

“The gut never leads me astray.” His face brightens, and he pumps his fist. “Why did she call you that?”

My stomach sours a bit at the memory, and I close my eyes to stave off the discomfort. Then again, I haven’t vomited for a halfhour, so maybe it’s that. “I used to sing to calm everyone down, and the song I favored had a lyric mentioning butterflies.”

“How’s therapy going?”

No blinker for that lane change.

My eyes snap back to his. “Um. Fine.”

“You’re doing well then? Emotionally? As good as can be expected?”

Even if I don’t know him well yet, it’s clear he’s a kind man. Wish he’d spare some of that kindness for Tomer. Then again, Boss Dad was deceived for far longer than I was. Guess it makes sense he’s still bitter.

I’m still gonna be pissy about it, though. That’s my pregnant prerogative.

He tips his head forward, reminding me to answer him.Oops. His gut never fails, and neither does my squirrel.

“Yeah. Therapy is going great. Better than expected.”

His returning stare is slightly unnerving but also comforting. He doesn’t speak. Simply looks at me. Or through me.

“What?” I ask when the silence stretches a bit too long for my tastes.

He runs his palm over his face from forehead to chin. “Just trying to determine if you’re really fine or full of bullshit.”

“If you find the answer, let me know. I’ve been curious about that myself,” I jest.

He grins at me, sincerity woven into his features. “Will you go to the lair with me to talk about it with the team? Since she called you butterfly, I’m wondering if maybe you can help us figure it out. Unless you don’t think you’re able to discuss it. No shame if you’re not up to it.”

Aww. That’s sweet.

“I’m happy to try. Let’s roll, chief.”

If the grimace he makes is any indication, he hateschiefmore than he hatessir.

Tucking that away for future use.

I start to stand, but he puts his hand out to stop me. “Hold up. Before we go, I want to talk about two other things.”

“You’re the boss.”

His expression shifts from openly amiable to something harder to read. “First, I want to apologize.”

“To me?”

“Yes.”

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