Page 113 of Piece Us Together

“Is it time?” I ask, not daring to reach for my drink. I don’t want him to see that my hands are shaking.

“Time?”

“For the op.”

“No. Thankfully. Not sure how useful you’d be in your condition.” Keats nods at the bartender when he’s brought his order. He takes a small drink before placing it down on a coaster. His eyes don’t drift toward me, but I know I have his full attention. Any nonchalance right now is false. “Nolan asked Ace to trace your phone. He was worried.”

“And he sent you to come fetch me?” I ask, too drunk to hide the hurt in my voice.

“No. Ace said we can’t track operatives’ phones. Nolan bought it.” Keats sighs. “We thought it might be best if we found you first.”

“Why?”

He hunches over a little, looking down at his drink. “Ace knows you pretty well, you know. He saw you this morning when you and Nolan came home from wherever you spent the night. He saw you go at the bag in the gym. Saw you nearly tear apart the kitchen looking for booze. He had a hunch you’d be at a bar.”

“Track my phone to figure out which one?” I ask in annoyance.

“Nope. Used my super cool spy skills instead. Only two bars open right now in town. One your brother—who you don’t get along with—works at. Figured the other was a safe bet.”

“Gold star to you.”

“You want to talk about it?”

I nearly laugh. “No.”

“Nolan is pretty upset.”

“Yeah, well, can’t hold that against him. I ruined something good for him.”

“I’d say Hunter Meridian is good for the both of you.”

I whip my head around to look at him, my heart in my throat. He doesn’t look smug or amused. He doesn’t look like a guy who found out a juicy secret. He just looks serious. Maybe a little sad.

“He seems like a good man,” Keats continues. “I bet whatever happened, whatever you did, he’d let you fix it.”

I decide to take a drink after all. I don’t give a fuck if he sees my shaking hands.

“You know it’s okay, right? To be with him?”

I close my eyes.

“You did that background check on him, after that night with Carter. After he got involved with him and Travis. I did my own. Trust me, if I couldn’t find anything on him? He’s clean.” He nudges my elbow with his. “You can tell him. If that’s the problem. If it’s the secrets that ruined things. Everyone agreeing to let him come to the house meant agreeing to take the risk he’d find out. They trust Travis—trust all of us operatives—to be careful enough not to bring someone around who isn’t safe. If you and Nolan are ready to share that part of yourselves with him, you can.”

“How did you even find out?” I ask. It’s the only thing I can wrap my head around. The rest of it, the possibilities of what he’s saying, that’s all too much.

“I’m a nosy bastard.”

I glare at him. “Is it even possible for you to not be fucking cryptic? How the fuck did you find out, Keats? Just tell me.”

His jaw ticks before he looks away. “I keep track of all of you. It’s—I don’t know. A coping mechanism, almost. A very unhealthy one, I’m aware. When your phones started registering that you were going somewhere and staying there, I looked into it. When I saw who owned the house, I dug deeper into him than I did the first time around. I wanted to make sure this guy was popping up again out of coincidence and not something worse.”

“I went after him,” I say, not wanting him to be suspicious. “I tracked him down.”

Keats smirks. “One day, you’re going to tell me that story. I can’t fucking wait.”

I roll my eyes at him, caught between amusement and anxiety. “Have you told anyone?”

“No. And I won’t. It’s not my place. Even Ace doesn’t know. Whatever reasons you have for keeping it under wraps, I respect that.”

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