Page 106 of Yours to Keep
“For everything… for all this,” I said, waving my hand toward the boards and TVs.
He pulled back, holding my gaze. “Stop apologizing for loving him.” He closed his eyes briefly. “He has scars because of Adrian: wounds that bastard reopened. But CJ, we’re going to close them. Permanently.”
I looked at him. “Deck, we need to find him.”
Deck nodded once. “We will.” His voice was absolute. “On my life, we will.”
Something in my chest loosened, just slightly.
“That kid was always meant to find you, CJ. He was meant to walk into your life and become your everything.”
“Okay,” I nodded. “Let’s get to work.”
* * *
And we did. More information filled the board as more sightings were reported and more bank withdrawals were tracked. Adrianwasn’t hiding anymore; he was preparing.
But so were we.
Piece by piece, the puzzle started locking together. We tightened the net.
I watched Deck move through the room, directing everyone with the same military precision he’d always carried. No wasted motion. No wasted time.
This is what he does: he hunts.
Hours passed. Coffee and food appeared, barely noticed. By the time I was on what felt like my twelfth cup of terrible coffee, I decided we needed a better machine. I’d let Finn handle that.
My eyes drifted back to Adrian’s photo.
“No.”
The word left me quietly, and the room shifted. Everyone looked over.
I stared at him. “He’s not taking one more thing from him.”
For the first time in days, I wasn’t drowning in helplessness. There was only purpose.
And I knew Adrian Blackwell would make a mistake. When he did, I’d be waiting.
I walked to the board, ripped his photo down, crushed it in my fist, and dropped it into the bin.
“Enjoy the head start, fucker.” I stared at it one last time. “Because it’s already over.”
Then I turned and walked upstairs.
I needed my boy. Needed to hold him, breathe him in, remind myself he was here, safe, and loved.
27
Eli
The first time I saw the car, I told myself it meant nothing.
Nothing, right?
It was just a dark sedan parked across the street. Nothing unusual. Nothing worth spiraling over.
It sat there for almost thirty minutes. The driver never got out. Never shifted. Never checked a phone. Just watched.
