Page 58 of Saint of the Shadows

She tilted her head, granting him permission to walk beside her.

Tobias let out a long sigh. “Roaches in the safe house scare you away?”

“Actually, our friend did an okay job. Top care. Excellent amenities. I’m thinking about leaving a five-star review.”

“Our friend spent a lot of time looking out for you?”

“You could say that.” Her mind drifted to list all the ways Vincent looked out for her—food, physical therapy, the other kind of physical therapy. The weight of the memory pulled on her chest.

“It’s just... I don’t mean to stare... but how the hell are you on two legs, kid?”

That was why he eyed her throughout breakfast. She shouldn’t be walking. So she, inspired by Vincent, constructed a half-truth. “The leg thing? A misdiagnosed sprain.”

“Baloney.”

“Scout’s honor. Just a little ice and rest. I’m as good as new.”

“I wish I could say the same. I’m on admin leave. Your case is now getting handled by the biggest couple of humps counting down to retirement that our department has ever seen. Sad, really.” Tobias kicked a broken piece of the sidewalk. It skipped the surface, hit the base of a parking sign, and bounced to a stop.

“That might explain the bullshit I read in the newspaper. On leave? What for?”

“Procedure. Turns out that when you kill a guy, it gets reviewed. I could be on desk duty, but I may have called my lieutenant a limp dick cuck, and well… they say I gotta go see a shrink to prove that I’m doing alright.”

“Are you doing alright?”

He put his hands on his hips and looked toward the end of the block. “I’ll get my badge and gun back.”

“But are you doing alright?”

“You were bleeding in my arms not too long ago, and you ask me if I’m alright? Jesus, kid.” His eyes beamed again. “Not sure if a shrink is right for me. Old habits and all. Haven’t been to confession going on… twenty years? Why start now? Especially with someone who can’t even claim to talk to God.” He scratched the back of his head.

She shrugged. Therapy worked for those who had the time and money for such a “treat.” Lacking both became one more thing that separated those who were scraping by from those who were healthily maladjusted. She and Tobias would justhave to handle their PTSD through sporadic glib conversations. Wasn’t that the true Shadowhaven way?

He leaned back against the passenger side of his weathered sedan and wiped at his cold-reddened nose. “When they identified the body, her mom cried so hard in my chest, I had to change my shirt.”

Marisol stiffened. Annie’s mom.

“I swear I should be used to it by now—the sound parents make when they find out their child’s dead. It’s like nature knows everything’s out of order and splits the world open with a wail. I’m sure you’ve heard it before.”

She nodded. She had. If it wasn’t the most ear-splitting cry wrenched from a single human’s voice box, it was a barely audible sigh that sucked out the parents’ life force, pickling them from the inside. Had Vincent felt that, watching as people aged and died? What he’ll feel when she…

Tobias laughed, but it was small, and he kept his eyes fixed on the block ahead. “And they brought me food. Their kid was murdered, but they fed me.”

Marisol propelled herself off the curb and hugged him. Even with the boost, she stretched her arms to reach around his neck. He tensed in her embrace. She vowed to hold on until he relaxed, to thank him for being there when she couldn’t.

While he held her, he said, “But the strangest thing happened. When I explained who I was, theytold me my partner came to her apartment and asked them questions when they were there. In Korean.”

“Your partner is fluent in Korean?”

“The oaf’s barely literate in his first language, let alone anyone else’s. Not to mention, the bearded man they described in no way fit his fat, ugly mug.”

Vincent? Marisol dropped her heels back to the ground. “Our friend made an appearance?”

“I think so.” Tobias stared down at her. His big palm lingered on her back. He parted his mouth and sucked in a breath. They froze in the same position as when she had kissed him. He said, “I never expected to see you again. If the SPD suggests you leave, you either don’t come back, or you end up —” He lifted his eyebrows. “Anyway, I thought, ‘I’ll keep an eye on her parents. She’ll start a new life far from here, and I’ll learn that she’s doing okay, and it will be enough.’” His hands left her back.

“Enough?” She crossed her arms. Enough of what?

He scratched the back of his head, paced a few steps, and leaned against the trunk. “I spent my whole life on the receiving end of disappointed looks from the women in my life. My ex-wife. That goes without saying. My own mother even. And I deserved it. I started thinking the job is the only thing that matters. It’s the only thing I’m good at. But you have this way of looking at me...”

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