Page 14 of Covert Operation
She rolls her eyes. “You and Vincent just need to kiss and make up because you’re both driving me fucking nuts.” The sassy blonde who never misses a chance to put both Pierce and Vincent in their places crosses both arms over her chest. “And I told you, he’s off on a personal excursion. Not everything is about you.”
I want to be a part of this conversation even less than I want to go chasing Vincent across the country, so I head for the door. “I’ll be in touch.”
Heidi is still giving Pierce shit as I leave, going straight for my office to call Quinn and Maddox to let them know they need to pack their shit. After touching base with both of them and letting Rico know when we’ll be ready to leave, I make one final call.
I’m not sure if Savannah will pick up or not, so I’m preparing to leave a message when she answers, sounding a little out of breath.
I sit up straighter in my seat. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Everything’s good.” She sucks in a deep breath. “I was just doing some work around my house and my phone was on a different floor.”
The brightness in her tone makes me feel both better and worse about having to leave. I’m glad she’s not down after our conversation yesterday, but I worry she might crash and I won’t be here to catch her as she falls. I know she has Sadie, but her sister doesn’t understand what she’s been through. Is still going through.
I do. Maybe not directly, but as close as you can get.
“Is everything okay with you?” There’s genuine concern in her question and it makes me smile.
“I’m fine.” The clock is ticking, but since I live in one of the rooming house suites and keep a bag packed, I can be ready to walk out the door in under ten minutes. So I take advantage of the time I have to spare. “What kind of work are you doing? I can call someone if there’s an issue.”
“Work was probably the wrong word.” Savannah laughs softly, the sound soothing a little more of my worry about leaving her. “I haven’t really done a whole lot since I moved in, so I was unpacking a few boxes that are sitting around.” She blows out a breath. “I forgot how much effort it is to move.”
“I can only imagine.” I ignore a text that makes my cell buzz in my palm. It’s probably Isaac, Shadow’s technical coordinator, sending my itinerary and reservation information. “I don’t have much to move, so it’s always been an uneventful experience for me.”
Savannah’s quiet for a second. When her soft voice carries through the line again, it’s to ask, “Don’t you miss having a home?”
The question digs deeper than she knows, and part of me wants to ignore it. To tell her what I need her to know—that I’m leaving—and then move on. But she’s been so open and vulnerable with me, I can’t make myself shut her out the way I normally would. “Can’t miss something you’ve never had.”
“Oh.” The single word comes out on an exhale and I brace for the questions coming my way. Instead, she simply says, “I guess you can’t, can you?”
She goes quiet, and the silence leaves too much room for me to regret burdening her with information she didn’t ask for. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I shift the topic to my reason for calling. “Pierce is sending me out for a few days.”
“Oh.” Again, Savannah breathes out the word. “Do you get to go somewhere fun?”
I chuckle, because spying on Vincent sounds like the least fun I can imagine. “Not even close.”
“That stinks,” she says. “Do you know when you’ll be back?”
I never questioned how difficult it would be for the men around me to have to tell the people in their life they didn’t know when they’d be back. It was simply part of the job we all agreed to do when we signed on at Alaskan Security.
But I wish I could tell Savannah when to expect me. When I would be there for her again. Unfortunately, I can’t.
“I don’t.” I hate leaving her like this, so I make her an offer I probably shouldn’t. “But I’ll have my phone with me if you need me.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
She sounds mostly convinced. But I’m not.
“You can call me or text me even if you’re fine.” I want to give her room to be whatever she wants to be, and to do it on her own terms. “If I’m busy, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
“Okay.” There’s a hint of a smile in her voice. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” I don’t tell her that what we’re doing helps me as much as it helps her. I don’t want to put the weight of my grief on her. Don’t want her to carry a responsibility that’s not hers. “We can pick up where we left off as soon as I get back.”
“I guess that will give me time to figure out a new sneak attack method, so you better be ready.”
My lips twitch as another smile works its way into place. “I look forward to it.” I don’t want to end the call, but I have to. “I’ve got to go get ready.”
“Yeah. Okay.” She clears her throat. “Be careful.”