Chapter Forty-Five

Beaufort, South Carolina

October 26

M iles glanced around Steady’s living room at the Bishop Security team. Cam was still on his honeymoon with his new bride, Evan, but the rest of the group was there. Miles had helped them out on several occasions—most recently running a con that brought Steady together with his feisty neighbor, Very Valentine. They were deeply in love and, by the look of the beach house, living together.

Nathan’s wife, Emily Bishop, was sitting with Ren, looking at blueprints of Lucien Kite’s house. Emily wasn’t a Bishop Security employee, but she was skilled and smart. She had escaped the clutches of a powerful arms dealer all on her own, so she knew a thing or two. Ren pointed to something on the floor plan. Emily nodded in agreement and marked it with a tab.

Steady and Nathan were bent over the kitchen island, reviewing drone footage of the exterior. Steady’s laid-back grin was in place as he listened to his boss. Occasionally, his eyes would wander to his pink-haired paramour sitting with Calliope, Tox’s wife. They were researching Lucien Kite.

Twitch, the team’s cyber security expert, was sitting on the floor, her laptop resting on the coffee table. Behind her, Finn McIntyre sat on the couch holding their son, Trevor. The baby looked fit to be tied, kicking his little legs and spitting out the pacifier Finn was trying to stick in his mouth.

“He wants the real thing, angel,” Finn said.

“What time do we need to pick up Auggie?” Finn and Twitch were in the process of adopting an eight-year-old.

“Ben’s dad texted from the game. Auggie’s sleeping over.” Then he leaned down and whispered something in Twitch’s ear that had her face turning as red as her hair.

She pushed to her feet and handed Finn her computer. “Take over.” She took the baby, then placed her hand on Finn’s scarred cheek. “Be right back.”

Emily called from her spot on the opposite couch, “You can nurse him in here, sweetie.”

Twitch blushed again and tipped her head toward the deck. “I like looking at the waves.”

Finn left the laptop where it was, opened the sliding glass doors, and settled next to his love on the outdoor couch. The moon was full and low in the sky, and a salty breeze wafted in from the beach.

Clara sat beside Miles at the end of the kitchen table. “Do you want kids?”

Miles looked at her in disbelief. “What?”

“Kids? The smaller version of us? Do you want them?”

His insides suddenly felt like a shaken soda bottle. “Clara, I don’t want adults, much less kids.”

“Hmm.”

“What was that?” he demanded.

“What?”

“That ‘hmm’?”

Clara set down the information on Lucien Kite’s alarm system and stared across the room. His brother was delivering a plate of food to his pregnant wife. Calliope scooped up the pizza slice and leaned back to thank him with a kiss.

“Tox is so into impending fatherhood. I guess I’m just surprised you’re so different from your twin.”

Miles shoved back his chair and stood. “Nature versus nurture, I guess.”

“Do you want to know if I want them?”

“What? Children?”

“No, jalape?o poppers. Of course, kids.”

“Sure.” Miles ran a hand over the scruff on his jaw, willing the conversation to end.

“I do. I’d like to have a baby, but also adopt. Papa saved me. I’d love to do that for a child.”

Miles was stone-faced. “You should. Things always seem to work out for you, Clara. I have no doubt one day you’ll be living in the suburbs with your doting husband and a house full of filthy, happy brats.”

He ignored the misting of her bright blue eyes. Clara cleared her throat. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Finally, she said, “Yes, maybe.”

Miles swallowed the ball of lead in his throat. He had never seen Clara lose her spirit. Her fire was unquenchable, yet he had somehow managed to douse it. The guilt angered him—he wasn’t responsible for Clara’s happiness. How could he be when he couldn’t even manage his own?

“I need some air.”

That was enough of that. They were here to plan a heist, not discuss family planning. Miles walked out the front door to avoid disturbing Twitch and Finn on the deck. He cut across the driveway and rounded the side of the house to the beach.

When he was out of sight, Miles sank to the sand and rested his head in his hands. The ground was shifting beneath his feet, sending cracks up walls he had spent years constructing. Stones were toppling, and Miles was powerless to stop it.

His twin’s broad form cast a shadow over him in the moonlight. Tox sat beside him, and together, they listened to the waves lapping rhythmically on the shore.

“Do you remember that time we found the box of old bedsheets in the attic, and you hatched that cockamamie plan to knot them together, climb out the dormer, and swing over to the tree house?”

Miles huffed a laugh. “Even for third-graders, that was dumb.”

“It took us until you were six feet down the sheet to realize exactly how dumb,” Tox said.

“After Dad hauled me in through the bedroom window, he couldn’t decide whether to hug me or strangle me.”

“You were trying to act so brave. Then you got out the window, and the fear took over.”

“Yeah.”

“You kept repeating, don’t let go . Looking right at me and saying, don’t let go . I could feel how scared you were. Inside. I could feel it in my gut. I didn’t care if my wrist snapped; nothing was going to make me drop that sheet.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Tox asked.

“Nothing good has ever happened when things changed.”

Tox sighed, “Yeah, I know. Do you want to tell me about it? What happened with that family?”

“It wasn’t a family. We were a fucking family.”

“And if you let those people take that away, they win.”

“I don’t know how to come back from that, Miller. I only know how to keep it from happening again.”

“By shutting everyone out?” Tox asked.

“It’s worked so far.”

“Has it?”

Miles shook his head with a sad laugh. “Fuck you.”

Tox mirrored Miles’s position, locking his hands around his bent knees. “I got to know Foxy when I left the SEALs and bought that building. You can’t imagine her life growing up—a gay, trans, black, skinny kid in Louisiana. I’ve seen horrible shit, and I know you have too, but that?” Tox shook his head. “And still she helps, keeps an eye out, gives money she doesn’t have to feed others. I asked her once how she could be so caring after everything that had happened in her life.”

“What’d she say?”

“That people who hate, hate themselves. So as long as she can love, life is good.”

“She’s something,” Miles said.

“Like Yoda in a glitter tube dress and six-inch heels.”

“Hey, Tox?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you buy that building in Alphabet City?” Miles asked.

Tox shrugged. “I had some money saved up. It was a good investment.” He paused, staring up at the night sky. “I liked that it was an old bakery. Made me think of home. Remember how mom used to bake bread?”

A memory flashed in Miles’s mind—he and Tox standing on kitchen chairs, kneading dough. “I’d forgotten that.”

“I guess I thought the building had good vibes.” Tox chuckled. ”Bad plumbing but good vibes.”

“Thanks for coming out.”

“Any time, Mi.”

“You know, I think I could have survived anything if I’d had you with me.”

Tox picked up a rock and tossed it into the ocean. “I’m still holding onto that sheet rope, brother. Just so you know.” With that, he got up, shoved both hands in his pockets, and walked back toward the house.