Page 74 of Midnight Between Us
Her voice was so calming, which is why I couldn’t bring myself to talk to her.I had to end the call.Simone has always been the one thing that could cut through my rage.
And that night—I needed the rage.Needed the fire in my gut.Needed to be that version of myself who didn’t give a fuck.The one who could throw punches without blinking.Who could watch another man bleed and not flinch.Who could win without caring who he had to become in the process.
But I also had to cut her hopes.I had to set her free.
“How did you find me?”I look up.I need to know.
Her jaw flexes.“Get out.”
“If you had just?—”
“Don’t,” she cuts me off again, voice cold and exhausted.“Don’t say if I’d told you, things would’ve been different.I tried.I fucking tried.But I was a terrified teenager making impossible choices.”
I nod.Or maybe I’m just too stunned to move.My fists clench, but I don’t lash out.I want to ask how she found me that night.Who helped her.But what would that even fix?
She had the baby.
I stare down at the picture.Lyndon.A name.A life.A boy who exists—who happened—and I wasn’t there.
Lyndon.
That’s who she talked to on the phone just now.Jesus.I thought I’d have to break that kid’s jaw for just talking to her.And now?
Now I know he’s mine.
A kid who didn’t grow up carrying my rage or learning how to weaponize silence like a Timberbridge man does.A kid who got her kindness instead of my bitterness.
“Nothing I say can fix this.”My voice is low, but it carries.“You’re right.That Keir ...he would’ve burned it all down.You, the baby ...the same way my father burned through my mother.”
“Don’t.”Her voice comes out like a warning.“You’re not him.”
“I might be worse.”The confession tastes like rust.“You have no idea what I’ve done since I left Birchwood Springs.”
Her brow arches.“Illegal street fighting isn’t a mortal sin, Keir.”
I blink.“You knew?”
She shrugs like it’s obvious.Like I’m late to my own story.
“How?”
“It’s complicated.”
Of course it is.
“You two clearly did better without me,” I mutter, letting my gaze sweep over her.She did well.Look at the house at her life.“You’re a doctor with a career.You raised him.You?—”
“Shut up, Keir.”The tone lashes so hard I feel it all the way to my gut.“You don’t know anything about me.Or him.Don’t pretend.Don’t assume.Don’t think.I ...I’m calling Finn.He’ll get you the fuck out of here.I’ll ask for another assignment.I’ll figure out another way to pay.”
That word—pay—sets something off in me.
“You owe money?”I’m on my feet before I finish the question.“Sims, I can get you out.If you’re stuck here, if someone’s?—”
“You don’t pay family with money.”Her voice cracks, but only a little.She kneels to gather the scattered letters with the precision of someone who’s cleaned up too many emotional spills already.
I rake a hand through my hair.“What the fuck does that mean?There’s no one else.Your grandparents don’t count.And Finn—he’s just your boss, right?”
She doesn’t answer.
