I could hear the affection in his voice when Con said, “Yeah, I guess they did.” His tone was more serious when he added, “And look what it got them.”
He released me and rolled to his back, reaching his arms above his head to grip the wrought iron bars of the headboard.
“Con?”
“That’s exactly why I should tell you to go. Tell you to get the hell away from me. Because now the shit I’m into is even more dangerous. I’ve spent years in the gutter turning up every filth-covered rock to find justice. And when you do that, you attract all sorts of the wrong kind of attention. If someone thinks I’m getting too close, I don’t even want to consider what they might do to stop me. Hit me where it hurts—where I’m weak—and that’s you.”
The atmosphere surrounding the bed turned cold. I’d never aspired to be someone’s weakness. I wasn’t certain how to take that.
“So what are you saying?” I asked. “Because I thought we were finally on the same page.” But maybe I’m wrong, I added silently.
“I’m not saying anything other than I need you to know that if you throw in with me publicly, you need to be careful. A hell of a lot more careful than you have been.” He turned and flipped on the bedside lamp before facing me again. “And if you can’t handle that, you need to tell me right now. Because I already told you I’m not giving you another easy out.”
I may not have understood the risks he was talking about, but I knew one thing for certain—Con wouldn’t let anyone hurt me if it was humanly possible to prevent it. I wasn’t sure how I could make it any clearer that I wasn’t walking away regardless of any out he might offer.
I pressed closer to him. “And I already told you that I want this. We’re going to figure out a way to make it work. Now shut up and kiss me.”
Con’s smile was soft as he flipped off the light and rolled to cover my lips—and my body—with his.
It was a long time before either of us got any sleep.
Con wasn’t particularly peppy in the morning, which probably came from running businesses that stayed open until well past midnight. Which meant that when he mumbled something the next morning about doing Fourth of July on the roof of Voodoo with some friends, and I had to tell him I wasn’t going to be able to be there because I had a prior commitment, he was less than enthusiastic. I’d wanted to invite him to the Fighting for Freedom fundraiser, and it probably would have been the perfect event to bring him to, considering it was supporting the cause of veterans, but I wasn’t quite ready to jump into the deep end when it came to public appearances. I wanted to ease into this, not shove it in people’s faces and cause a splash.
It may have seemed disingenuous, but I was thinking long term. I wanted Con to be accepted and finally feel like he belonged. I didn’t want him to feel like he was on the outside looking in anymore. Because if Archer was still willing to give me a shot at running the foundation, I would want Con by my side at all of the events I attended in the future. I just had to choose our steps carefully.
The only thing that had kept Con from going over the edge was the fact that Lucas Titan was not going to be there. This wasn’t an event on his list, which was somewhat surprising, but I certainly wasn’t offering.
The next week was jam-packed with work for the building project. Demolition was on schedule, and everything was moving smoothly. I managed to see Con a few times, mostly quick breaks for lunch or a stolen afternoon at the gym helping to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I brought all sorts of extras and stuffed those in the bags as well: granola bars, fruit snacks, pudding cups, and all of the other fun stuff I’d always wanted to see when I opened my brown paper lunch bag. One afternoon we’d even taken that shopping trip to get suits for the boys. I couldn’t wait to see the pride on their faces when they walked into their next tournament.
Trey had recovered enough to leave the hospital, and I’d arranged to have a nurse visit their home for several hours a day to help out his mother. He’d missed his orientation at West Point, but they’d agreed not to defer him if he could pass his physical before the semester started. Given that Trey was a fighter, I was putting my money on him.
Hennessy’s investigation around the carjacking and shooting was successful. The guy responsible was arrested and charged. One of the least pleasant experiences of my life was participating in identifying him during the line up. Con, and a stubborn, but still-weak Trey, had stood on either side of me when I’d said the number aloud. That was at least one instance of justice being served.
I couldn’t imagine how it felt for Con to spend years not knowing who had been responsible for killing his parents, especially with the guilt he carried. I hated that it ate away at him, but I didn’t know how I could help. I guessed this fell into the category of being a supportive girlfriend.
Archer had been away all week attending a national conference and wouldn’t return until Monday. I was surprised he hadn’t asked me to attend with him, but I assumed it was because the budget only allowed for one person to go. Ever conscious of how the foundation expended its funds, I didn’t protest or complain. But it did mean that I still hadn’t had an opportunity to tell him about Con and me yet.
I went back and forth—did I tell Archer first or my father? Neither conversation was going to be easy, but I hoped telling Archer first and having his support might make it less intimidating to tell my father. Because if Archer had no problem with it, I was hoping my father would be influenced to feel similarly. And yes, I was aware that was a whole lot of hope.