Page 42 of Falcon’s Forever

“I’m checking the new patrol line,” he explains.

I glance toward the fence. “Is it far enough back?”

“Probably,” Falcon answers.

“Probably isn’t reassuring,” I point out.

“Neither is pretending I know everything,” he replies.

That almost pulls a smile from me.

“You handled that meeting well,” I tell him.

Falcon’s eyebrows rise. “Me?”

“Yes,” I confirm.

“I mostly sat there and didn’t say much,” he says.

“You listened,” I remind him.

He gives me a dry look. “Apparently, I’ve set a low bar.”

“Historically?” I tilt my head. “Probably.”

“At least I know,” Falcon mutters.

We fall quiet for a moment. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, it’s simply different from what we had before, in a way that feels as though it might be leading somewhere instead of nowhere.

“Lena asked you something difficult,” I say.

Falcon nods. “About the windowless room?”

“About choosing a space that’s less secure,” I clarify.

“I still don’t like it,” he admits.

His answer catches me by surprise. “You agreed with her, though.”

“Because it isn’t my decision to like or dislike,” he explains.

I search his face. “You think it’s unsafe.”

“I think it carries a higher risk,” Falcon corrects.

“And you’d still let her choose it?” I ask.

His expression tightens slightly. “Allow isn’t the right word.”

No, it isn’t. Something shifts inside my chest when he gets that right without needing me to explain it.

“I’ve spent most of my life believing protection meant removing every possible threat,” Falcon says.

“That’s impossible,” I tell him.

“I know.” He looks toward the fence. “I’m starting to understand it, though.”

Part of me wants to ask why now, but I already know the answer. Me. The women. Digger getting hurt on his watch. All of it landing on him at once.