Page 99 of Midnight Between Us
Gone.
Fucking gone.
Panic flares in my chest, hot and rising fast, and I try to swallow it down, but it scorches on the way up.What if someone found them?What if they found him?
What if they found us?
What if ...
“Shit.”The word slips out, useless and hollow.
I press my hand to the doorframe and try to breathe.Try to stay rational.This could be nothing.They could’ve moved locations.Maybe Finnegan finally remembered he runs an actual fortified facility at Heartwood Lake, one that’s not half an hour from the nearest nosy neighbor.
But it doesn’t feel like nothing.
It feels like the start of something, something I might not be able to stop.
My first call is to Finnegan.
“It’s Sunday, Simone.I swear, any other day, I’m okay with people calling me but it’s family time,” he growls.
“He’s gone.”I breathe out, trying not to panic, but it’s impossible.“The agents?—”
“Atlas didn’t tell you?”he interrupts, voice flat.“We’re relocating him.Something about not getting enough help and needing space from you.”
My pulse skips.“Space from me?”
“I don’t know,” he mutters, already sounding bored with the conversation.“Maybe I got it wrong.I wasn’t exactly listening.”
Of course, he wasn’t.
I’m already moving, walking through the house like I’ll find something out of place—like something isn’t already completely off.My footsteps are too loud, and my breath is uneven.The air in here feels wrong like it’s been held too long.
My fingers trail over the back of the couch, across the table where Keir used to leave his tea half-drunk.There’s nothing.Not even a mug.
Until I see it, on the chair in the library.It’s a piece of paper, folded perfectly, sitting dead center on the seat cushion as if someone wanted it to be found but not noticed right away.
I stop breathing.It has a single word printed at the top in block letters.
SIMS.
I pick it up like it might burn, unfold it, and read it once.
Then again.
Then, a third time, slower.
Sims:
Thank you for saving me when you could have just let me bleed inside the trunk.
Thank you for not giving up on me since I woke up and for ...still being here even when it hurts too fucking much.
Thank you for the truth.For the letters.For not pretending it didn’t break you.
I’m going to get help.Not just to be a better man for Lyndon or for you.
For myself.
