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“Yes, Kaleb.” He blew out a deep breath. “His last name is Ballard. He’s Liam Ballard’s son.”
It took me a second to connect the dots. When I did, my jaw dropped. “The same Liam Ballard who founded the Hourglass?”
“The same. Liam Ballard was my mentor. He’s the one who died six months ago.”
“Michael,” I breathed out. I didn’t tell him I was sorry. It never helped when people apologized for something they had no control over.
His eyes tightened, and the same mix of sadness and anger I’d seen on his face when he’d first told me about losing Liam reappeared.
Dropping his head back to stare at the ceiling, he fed me facts instead of feelings. “Years before Bennett shut down their parapsychology department, an offshoot formed.”
“I read about the Bennett lab closing down.” I ran the tip of my middle finger around the rim of my glass. “Not enough funding or respect.”
“Liam opened the Hourglass to serve the private sector. For a moral purpose.” He raised his head but didn’t meet my eyes. “It had one until he died. You know what it’s like to have an ability with no idea what it is or how to use it. Liam wanted a safe place for people like us to get help. A place where we could figure out a way to make a difference in the world instead of doing damage to it.”
“You left. You aren’t part of the Hourglass anymore,” I realized.
“When Liam died, Jonathan Landers took over.” Even Michael’s profile displayed anger. “As much as I want to be loyal to the Hourglass and Liam’s memory, I refuse to be part of it with Landers in charge.”
“Why?”
“For starters, he’s obsessed with getting to Liam’s research. Kaleb’s been keeping it under lock and key, trying to smuggle it out of the house when he can, but Landers or his minions are always in the way. There’s something specific he wants. He has an agenda. I can feel it.”
“Why didn’t you stay at the Hourglass house to keep an eye on him?”
“I had other things on my plate.” He looked at me, and I felt remarkably like a hamburger with a side of fries. “Besides, Kaleb has a better reason to be in the house than I do. It’s his.”
“If the two of you are friends, why were you so worried about being seen there tonight?”
o;Am I supposed to sit?” I asked, pointing to the cushion beside him. The leather reminded me of a worn baseball glove. “Or did you prefer I wait on the porch?”
He reached up to grab my sleeve and pulled. I landed a little closer to him than I would’ve liked at that moment, but I didn’t move.
“I guess you’re still mad.”
Michael tilted his head to look at me, his lips twisted in disapproval.
“This whole thing is so unfair,” I protested. “You’re keeping secrets. Secrets about me. I know it, you know it—why aren’t we talking about it?”
“Isn’t the information about your ability enough to digest right now?”
“The info is digested, Michael. As a matter of fact, it’s so digested it’s getting ready to come out as a big pile of sh—”
“Don’t get snippy with me.” His eyes flashed a warning.
“I’m not snippy, I’m mad,” I returned through gritted teeth. “And your personal health is in danger if you don’t fess up about what’s going on.”
“I really underestimated you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Michael stared at me for a moment. “You’re too brave for your own damn good. You have no idea what kind of situation you put yourself in tonight.” He stood, pacing back and forth in front of the couch. “Seeing you at that house …”
“What are you talking about? Fill in the blanks,” I snapped.
His wide shoulders slumped over in defeat. In one second, all the anger disappeared. “If something had happened to you tonight, it would’ve been my fault. Kaleb warned me not to treat you like a kid. I did it anyway, and I’m sorry.”
I struggled for words, but none came.
