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It was just as well Silas had work with Tanager; otherwise he would’ve had too much time to focus on the pain. He missed Juneau more than he could’ve imagined. Some bonds couldn’t be broken, but maybe she was better off without him. He checked his email obsessively. The month passed in interminable agony, and on that last day, he woke up feeling dark as a moonless night.
Tanager was gone from their shared flat. She’d be headed to Chicago now. To find Finch and make sure he put Silas from Juneau’s mind. She’d made her choice and so couldn’t be trusted with their secrets. Soon she would recall nothing of their time together, but at least he would remember that he’d had something beautiful for a little while.
His partner’s absence meant they wouldn’t be working today. In the last month, he’d learned how to manage the pain associated with his ability with a judicious combination of meditation and meds, but he didn’t mind the break. It gave him time to make peace with the inevitable. Silas couldn’t honestly say he was surprised. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from checking the account he’d set up just for Juneau one last time.
And there it was in black and white. Hope. Salvation. The potential for all future joy.
Silas, I can’t get you out of my head. I don’t know if you’re the one, but I want to find out. I can’t do that if I’m not with you. Call me. J.
He started to dial her number, and then he paused with his fingers on the dial. Shit. Fuck. He had to stop Tanager. With trembling hands, he punched in her cell, but it went to voice mail. She might already have some guy in the air in his personal plane. For obvious reasons, Tan never flew commercial.
He sat down at the computer, calling to book tickets while he worked online; successful multitasking had never mattered so much. If the number’s listed, yeah. Here we go. Silas scrawled the address. Thanks, reverse lookup. Then he did try to call Juneau, intending to tell her to stay the hell away from Tanager, but she didn’t answer. Fuck. Maybe it’s already too late.
“First available flight to Chicago. Yeah. Thanks.”
Every second the ticket agent delayed, chatting away, made him want to reach through the phone and throttle her. At last they wrapped up and he sprinted for the door. He had no idea where Tanager was, whether she’d already left the city. If only he had some clue—he scared the shit out of his cabbie with his muttering and growling. For once, Silas didn’t care at all, as it motivated the man to drive faster.
He leaped out at the airport and vaulted over a trolley full of suitcases. The delays seemed endless. First he used a self-service terminal to print out boarding passes, since he’d memorized his confirmation code, then he had to wait in an endless security line. Shit had changed a lot while he was locked up. Fortunately, he had nothing to search, which made the agents glare at him, because it meant he was breaking some travelers’ algorithm. He didn’t care about that either.
Finally, he took his seat on the plane, and the whole time he was in the air, he found it hard to sit still. The only thing in the world that mattered was finding Juneau before Tanager had Finch mindfuck her. Don’t let me lose her, he thought, and his desperation carried the weight of a prayer.
He hired a driver at the airport, since an hour in a town car cost about the same as paying for a grubby cab. On the way, he called Tanager four more times, but she didn’t pick up. He left six messages and then texted her for good measure. Don’t mess with her. Juneau still wasn’t answering either, and maybe when she did, she wouldn’t know who he was.
“Do you want me to wait?” the driver asked as they pulled up in front of a good-sized house with white siding and a brick walkway. “That’ll be another hour.”
“No. It’ll be fine.” He hoped.
Silas slid out of the car and sprinted up the drive to the porch. Inside, he could hear voices. He rang the bell, and in the seconds it took for someone to answer, he died a thousand deaths. A small woman who looked to be anywhere from forty to sixty answered the door; she had Juneau’s stormy eyes.
“Ah, you must be Junie’s young man.” To her credit, she didn’t bat an eye at his appearance.
Relief left him weak . . . and uncertain how to proceed, now. He followed her into a living room decorated in warm, inviting shades of peach and brown. Tanager sat sprawled on the couch, drinking a Coke. She aimed a daggered grin at him.
“You didn’t answer your phone,” he said, low.
Finch was nowhere to be found. Which meant he’d made it in time.
“I know. I’m not a nice person.” Her expression said I like to fuck with you.
Before he could decide whether to hug her or bitch her out, Juneau came out of the kitchen. Her step faltered when she saw him, surprise lighting her features, then she came at a run and threw herself at him. He’d never been greeted like that in his
life, not even when he was normal. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair.
“Missed you,” he whispered, for he had no explanation why he was here, otherwise. “And I thought this would be better than a call. Surprise.”
“Someone turned the ringer off on the phone anyway,” she answered, her voice muffled by his chest.
He cut a look at Tanager, who smirked. Guilty, she mouthed. Clearly she enjoyed driving people crazy. But now that fear had receded, he didn’t even care. Her fuckery had gotten him here faster. Without her interference, they might’ve screwed around with phone calls and tentative plans that dwindled into doubt. She’d prodded him until he came charging in like a rabid bull. And Juneau didn’t seem to mind.
“Let’s go in the kitchen.” Mrs. Bright beckoned to Tanager. “I suspect these two have some talking to do.”
Tan shook her head. “I gotta bail. I just wanted to see his face when he walked in.”
Juneau and her mom seemed puzzled by her words and her swagger as she left. Silas couldn’t stop smiling. He rather liked the little bitch—and he was certainly grateful to her.
He didn’t let go of Juneau, even as he maneuvered them to the couch. Tucking her against his side, he said, “I was worried you’d write us off.”
“I tried,” she admitted. “But I kept thinking about you. And doubting myself. Why the hell would I ever go looking for greener pastures when I already had somebody willing to die for me? And you just met me. I’m guessing it only gets better from here, though relationships are a new thing for me.”
