They were all laughing and talking and eating. Happy, safe, taken care of, supported. Exactly what he wanted. What he worked for.
And he was miserable.
He looked at the newly painted wall and the colorfully framed photographs and felt…like shit. Caroline had done that. She’d realized how important those people, and those moments, and the lives that created those moments were. She’d fucking framed them on the wall so everyone who came in here knew how important they all were.
That wall was a huge, daily reminder of the way she’d impacted his life. She hadn’t changed it. She’d understood that those photos represented what he worked and fought for, and she’d taken them, highlighted them with bright colors, and put them front and center where they truly felt like a celebration. And it made him smile. Instead of thinking about the dangers and the darkness, when he walked in here and saw those photos—new and old—he realized the light was winning.
And now she was gone and he understood that he needed her to help him keep seeing that light, to keep believing what he did mattered.
She knew that the animals she was currently rescuing were a tiny drop in the big bucket. But she was still doing it. And not because she was naïve or new to all of this. She’d been exposed to corruption and greed and cruelty longer and more directly than he had.
She still believed in doing what she could to fight back.
He couldn’t keep her from that.
Zander shoved his hand through his hair. He was worried as hell about her right now. He ached with missing her. And he needed to know that she was happy and safe and taken care of and supported.
Zander: I was thinking that maybe I could come up. I’ll just stay with you. Keep an eye on things.
Spencer: Fuck no.
Zander: Come on, man.
Spencer: There is no reason for you to be here. And I’ve heard you’ve been a real dick this past week.
He was right. On both counts. Professionally, there was no reason for Zander to be a part of the operation for Brantley and Caroline to get a direct seller on the line. He didn’t even know the exact plan. He assumed that Caroline and Brantley would go into this party, put out the word they were in the market for another lion cub, and then wait for someone to approach them. He didn’t know if there would be agents inside the party acting as servers. Or if Caroline and/or Brantley would be wired. Or all of the above and more. Or none of the above. Hell, the contact with the seller might not even happen tonight. It might happen as a phone call later or an email. They had no idea how the sellers contacted the buyers.
Correction, Zander didn’t know.
Brantley had obviously bought a lion cub. He knew. And he’d told Spencer.
So Zander was the one in the dark.
Zander: I just want to be there. As a friend. Help me out.
Spencer: I don’t need a friend here.
Zander sighed. Fine. Not as your friend then.
She doesn’t need a friend. She’s got me. And Max. And Brantley.
Zander prepared for the wave of jealousy. But that wasn’t what he felt. All he felt was…discontent.
That wasn’t enough. Three friends. Well, two and a half—he didn’t trust Brantley enough to really call him a friend.
Caroline deserved more. She deserved to be surrounded by people who would love her loud and proud and unabashedly and unconditionally. All the more as she embarked on a career dealing with criminals and darkness and destruction.
He looked around the table.
She deserved to be loved by the Landrys.
She deserved to be loved by him.
Not that he had the unabashed and loud thing down quite yet, but he could get there. Because he did have the proud and unconditional thing. And he had a hell of a lot of examples of the rest.
He wanted her, and everything that came with her. He’d been miserable without her for the past week and he’d been worried about her even when she wasn’t right here, even when he didn’t know what she was doing, even when she was supposed to be out of mind because she was out of sight. Clearly not being with her didn’t mean he wouldn’t worry about her and be distracted by her.
He was going to worry about her no matter what. He might as well be a part of her life, right? Be the place she came home to after the op? The one she checked in with while they were brainstorming and planning?
But he couldn’t shake the not-so-tiny detail of not being able to keep her safe.
He looked down as his phone chimed with another text.
Spencer: Okay, listen. I shouldn’t tell you this but she’s not doing the party. So stop worrying. And texting me. I need to focus.
Zander frowned. What do you mean she’s not doing it?
Spencer: She decided pretending to be back together with Brantley would be a huge can of worms she didn’t want to open. Too dangerous. So Max is going in as his new GF. Still interested in buying. Should still work.
Zander read the message twice. Caroline had pulled out? That…should make him feel better.
It didn’t.
Zander: Caroline would be the best. She knows them. She can sell this. Have her go in.
Spencer: It’s decided. She’s best on the sidelines.
Zander felt a tightness in his chest. The sidelines was where a part of him wanted her. The part that wanted her safe and sound at all times.
But he still typed: You want this to work? Caroline’s your girl.
Yeah, it might be safer for Caroline to have Max do it, but safe didn’t always get results. Caroline knew these people. How they talked, how they thought, how they negotiated. She would be able to get more information out of them. She’d be able to tell who knew something and who was lying.
When people were willing to do shitty things to other people—or animals—you couldn’t play nice and safe when you wanted to stop them.
Caroline wanted this to result in saving those animals and stopping whoever was behind this. She was smart. She knew there would be more dickheads doing terrible things. More animals at risk. She knew this wasn’t going to solve all the problems. But she wanted to be a part of solving this problem.
If Max went in and solved it, Caroline would be happy, but she’d feel less than fully satisfied because she wanted to do this. If Max went in and it didn’t work, Caroline would wonder if she could have done more.
Spencer: Don’t worry about it.
Yeah, it was way past that.
Worry about it, about her, was all he’d done for a week now.
He couldn’t just sit here. Zander shoved his chair back and stood. Everyone around the table looked at him, startled. “Sorry,” he muttered. He stomped toward the kitchen with his dishes.
As he pushed through the swinging door and took his plate and cup to the sink, he realized he hadn’t even finished his lunch.
“Finally.”
He looked over to find his grandmother lifting pieces of cornbread from the pan just out of the oven into a basket.
“Finally what?” he asked, rinsing his dishes and loading them into the industrial-sized dishwasher.
“You’re finally goin’ up to N’awlins after your girl.”
He turned to face her. “What makes you think that?”
“You look like a man who’s finally figured out that it’s his own fault that he’s angry and pissed and feeling like shit and that he has to be the one to fix it and that the way to fix it is to go after the only thing that’s gonna make it better.”