“Don’t leave the office until I speak to you.”
“Yessir,” I said before I got up and left.
As soon as I closed the door behind me, the room erupted in noise. I caught enough of it to hear something about questioning me about where Hartley might have gone and Kage forbidding it absolutely and in perpetuity and he wasn’t fucking around. They were never getting another shot at me.
My heart ached, and the need for Ian, in that moment, nearly drove me to my knees. I wanted to be held and to lean and to be protected, and it was stupid and needy but I couldn’t help it. I wanted him more than anything.
“So?” Becker said as I began moving toward my desk.
I shoved it down—the pain, the craving for my man—and forced a smile because watching me break down, crumble, did nothing for anyone, especially me.
Looking around, I noted the whole team was there, only Ian not in attendance. “So,” I announced to the room, using Becker’s word. “Guess who gave the Feds the slip on his holiday from the supermax?”
“The hell you say,” Sharpe gasped. “How?”
“Does the bureau not get that Hartley’s a bad guy?” Dorsey wanted to know.
“That’s insane,” Kohn spat.
“Hartley asked for a miracle, but he doesn’t need them,” I teased, breaking into an exaggerated grin. “He’s got the F… B… I.”
“Him and Hans Gruber,” Ryan groused.
I laughed but it sounded too high, too fake, and almost shrill. “Get in there and process my witness intake, monkey.”
“Don’t,” Ryan said, getting up and crossing the room to me. “You don’t have to be all how you’re being. This is us.”
I glanced around the room, and the looks I got back were not judgmental. Instead they were concerned.
“Let’s go get the paperwork done,” Dorsey offered, walking over to me and putting a hand on my shoulder. “The quicker we do, the quicker you can get home and get some rest.”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“You’re not,” Kohn argued. “I wouldn’t be either. Just get your witness taken care of so we can all go get some dinner or something.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” I groused.
“You’re arguing when you should be taking care of the mountain of paperwork,” Kowalski chimed in. “You know it’ll take hours.”
I did know that. People thought there were a lot of documents to sign when you bought a house. A mortgage company had nothing on WITSEC. The Justice Department knew how to create a paper trail, and it started with chopping down a big-ass tree.
“Come on,” Ryan prodded, hand on my bicep, tugging on me like he never did. “Let’s go get your new kid processed, all right?”
I followed obediently, okay with him piloting me along. It was nice that they all cared enough to be worried. I went with him and Dorsey back to Josue, and when I took a seat beside him, Josue bumped me with his shoulder and said he’d missed me.
“I see.” Dorsey yawned, nodding. “You just got two of your kids out of the house, and you’re moving this one in.”
I made a noise and put my head down on the table. “You know me,” I whined, closing my eyes. “I’m a caregiver.”
“I know,” he agreed which kind of surprised me with how nice he was being.
“You need to sleep,” Ryan stated.
Everyone always told me that. “I will tonight.”
“See that you do.”
KAGE CALLED me away from the conference room about an hour and half later, and surprisingly, instead of dragging me into his office, he took me downstairs. Not to the coffee and bagel truck always outside our building, but around the corner to one I’d never seen because I always stopped at the first one. As we got into line, I was going to ask what was good, but he started talking before I could get the question out.
“Just so you know, Carrington Adams’s family really appreciated all you did in bringing them closure.”
I hadn’t done anything beyond report what I’d been told. “Were they happy with his award?”
“They were, and his pension is going to fund a scholarship in his name at his old high school.”
“That’s good.”
“It is,” Kage agreed, tightening the scarf around his neck. “And we have the final separation paperwork for your two witnesses.”
I grunted.
“Something funny?”
“Just that, that makes it sound like Doyle and I will never see them again, when the opposite is true.”
He nodded. “They’re young. It makes sense that you’d stay in their lives.”
Of course he understood, I would have assumed no less.
Years ago, when I’d first started working for Kage, I’d thought he was cold but fair and not sentimental at all. But over time I’d learned so much more about him. Like he was stern, but only because he worried, and when he yelled it was normally because one of us, his men, had scared him. He was loyal, dependable, and always kept his word. I hoped to someday measure up to him. He was what I wanted to be.