I don't know how long we stayed like that, just holding onto each other as the world fractured apart.
But then he suddenly yanked away, eyes huge, lips parted.
"What?" I asked, shaking my head at his reaction.
"Fucking Daniel," he said, raking a hand through his hair. "If anyone knows V and how she works and where she might be, it's him."
"Go," I demanded, actually pushing him to make him get a move on.
Of course.
Of fucking course.
Of all the people we had called, all the rocks we had overturned, all the doors we had knocked on, how the hell had we all simultaneously forgotten him?
Daniel.
Who had played V for the public, so no one knew she was a woman.
Who had been the one with the last laugh because he had been an undercover agent the whole time.
Who had shacked up with Faith in the city, loosely involving him with the New York Mob families.
The man who might finally, finally have some answers for us.
Cash was running.
A second after the shock subsided, I was too, tearing across the compound with a renewed sense of hope, of possibilities.
He could tell us about contacts we might not have known before, send us to them, so we could lean on them until they broke. Until they could get in touch, set up a meeting, get us an address, and then we could do it.
We could go in.
We could get our girl back.
My shoulder rammed into someone else's as I charged past.
"What's..." Jstorm started, but I didn't have time to explain.
I just kept running.
Toward the first real lead we had had in almost sixty hours.
This was it.
This was what we had all been praying for.
A way to get our girl back.--JanieI reached up, rubbing my shoulder, watching Lo's blonde hair float out wildly behind her as she stormed through the compound.
I didn't follow.
If someone had found her, she would have yelled it to me on her way.
She wasn't running because someone found her. She was running to chase down a lead.
And I prayed to every possible god that could exist that it was the one we had all been working so hard for.
Because everything was leading to dead ends and roadblocks.
I could feel it, a weight on my shoulders, something oppressive and unyielding, sinking my feet deeper into the ground.
Sinking.
I was sinking.
And there was no denying it as I walked into the empty kitchen to get another cup of coffee, this was bringing some shit up for me.
That shit.
That shit that I tried never to think about.
That shit that sometimes forced me to think of it at night still, all these years later, making me troll the darknet while Wolf and little Malc slept, or go catch a meal with Repo if he was struggling too.
That shit that would never go away.
But I tried not to think about it.
When I could.
When I had the power.
It had been so long.
So many years stretched in between, years filled with usefulness, grim determination to right wrongs. Years filled with training, forcing my body to fight until it shut down on me. Years filled with learning, reading, calm, practiced care building bombs because some place or people needed to blow the fuck up.
Then, later, years filled with new things, things I never believed I could have, never thought I could open myself up enough for, show my damage to.
Wolf, namely.
My silent giant, my fearsome protector - even if I relentlessly insisted that I did not need to be protected, and that if I did, I could do it my damn self.
I never thought I could have him.
Never dreamed the universe could be that kind after all the ugly it had sent my way.
But there he had been with those eyes with a depth that you could jump in and sink endlessly. With those hands that could tear open ribcages and rip out hearts, but also touch me like I was something precious, some miracle, could give me something I never thought I could feel comfortable accepting from a man, could lift me up if I needed it. I mean... I didn't need it. But it was nice to know they were there if I needed them.
And his heart.
We couldn't talk about Wolf without talking about that. It was as big as he was. As accepting, forgiving, understanding, and giving.
He came into my world.
And he forced me to do things, confront things, try things.
Along the way, I found a depth of feeling I didn't know I was capable of - and I emoted a lot. Rage and frustration mostly, but emotions nonetheless. But he showed me a softer thing, a deeper thing, something that had become a bigger part of me than anything.
Love.
The kind of love that felt overwhelming at times.
The kind of love that could help you move forward.
But not forget.
There was no forgetting.