Chapter 32
Kevin could barely wrap his head around it. Alexis didn't remember the truth. She still thought Fenton O'Connell was real.
"Ryan? You alright?" Chang asked, and Kevin realized the entire time he'd been having a small breakdown he'd had an audience.
He shook himself and sat up. He scooped up the burner phone and backed out of the long thread of messages Alexis had been sending him. "Don't worry about this. I'll take care of it."
Chang's eyes narrowed. "You'll take care of it as in . . . ?"
Kevin huffed out a breath. He probably deserved the distrust, but it still grated on him that his former handler thought he needed to be babysat. "I will follow up on this individual whose connection to Fenton is not pertinent to our assignment," he said emphatically, "and I will let them know that he is no longer available."
After a beat, the other detective smirked. "Fenton's got a girlfriend?"
"Not anymore."
"In that case, it's all yours." Chang patted his shoulder. "And, uh, good luck with that."
"Thanks." He sure as shit was gonna need it
Kevin slumped down on his couch, almost certain that he would fall asleep without notice. He hadn't been sleeping all that well, so crashing at random times had become a common occurrence. Unfortunately, there wasn't much he could do for the lack of sleep. He knew what the cause of it was, but there was no way he could fix that, at least not as easily as he would want to.
The first thing he'd done when he'd realized the Alexis didn't know the truth about him, about Fenton and everything that had happened between them during the case, was reach out to try to talk to her, which was about as fruitful for him as it was for her to text Fenton.
So he'd tried giving her space, trusting that an opportunity would present itself before they met with Moreno. Seeing as how she didn't want to talk to him, it was probably the right thing to do, but that didn't mean that he didn't think or worry about her all the time. Sometimes she was all he could think about, and it drove him crazy to not be able to reach out to her, especially as the days dragged on, bringing them closer to their meeting with Moreno.
He'd messed up a lot of things with a lot of people. Going undercover and becoming Fenton, caused him to push everyone away. He couldn't even remember the last time he and Javi had an actual fun time around each other. It just felt like he was always begging Javi for forgiveness and attention.
Kevin hated feeling that way.
One thing he really needed help with was Javi. Trying to restart their friendship didn't come without its challenges. Kevin tried to take that as an opportunity to learn and grow, and Javi was good at letting Kevin remember just how fractured their once fortified friendship was.
Not that Kevin could blame him.
He often wondered why Javi was even willing to try and be friends with him. Kevin had messed up in a pretty spectacular way and if the shoe was on the other foot, he wasn't sure if he'd be so understanding.
All he did know was that Javi was a saint and he was trying his hardest to make sure that he didn't mess up anymore. He'd done enough of that already.
It was time for Kevin to start being the adult he was and to stop trying to blame everything on someone or something else.
Thank God for Gwen. If there was one thing in his life that he had going for him beyond work, it was his family. He'd promised Gwen to make amends for his year of silence, to become the fixture in his family's life that he'd been before he'd let his breakup with Alexis destroy every other good thing. Maybe she'd be able to help him wrap his head around things.
Against his better judgment, Kevin grabbed Fenton's burner phone off of his coffee table and flipped through the message thread. Alexis hadn't stopped texting him. Kevin tried his hardest to just close his eyes and allow himself to crash, leaving everything to worry about it later, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. He had so many unanswered questions.
Why was she texting Fenton? Even if she thought he was real, why would she reach out to him? A criminal? Sure, they had a history, and Fenton had certainly had a soft spot for Alexis, but was that enough for her to worry so much about him? And, less importantly but still an urgent question, which parts of their time together did she remember?
Because Kevin remembered them all. Every lie. Every session. Every last hitch in her breath, every moan and whimper. The ghost of her heated cries still haunted him, slipping into his dreams when he was lucky enough to sleep, ever-present in his waking hours, a curse and a sweet reminder all at once.
Kevin knew that he needed to talk to Alexis as soon as he could, but it couldn't be a conversation over the phone; it needed to be done in person. It wouldn't exactly be easy for him to pull the rug out from under her again, but it needed to be done. He couldn't allow Alexis believe a lie, especially with the meeting coming up. He'd already let her find out the wrong way once, he wasn't going to let it happen again.
Alexis needed to know everything and Kevin couldn't be a coward about it.
He sighed and grabbed his phone to call Javi. Alexis would ignore him, but his other former partner hadn't cut him out so completely.
"Hey," Kevin said. "I know I'm at an all-time low on good will, but I need to ask a favor."
It was barely lunchtime and already Alexis wasn't having a great day. She'd managed to scrape together a few hours of sleep, but her dreams had been strange and hazy and had left her feeling out of sorts when her alarm had gone off.
Then she'd made it to work to find Detective Collins had dumped the paperwork from the last few cases on her desk. When she'd approached him about it, he'd reminded her that she was their desk jockey and she'd better get used to it or he'd make waves with Internal Affairs about her last case. And while Alexis was certain that Beckett had done things by the book and that Alexis wouldn't still have a job if IA hadn't deemed it so, she didn't want to push her luck.
And now, just as she'd started making progress with the paperwork that would easily eat up days of part-time working hours, Javi was insisting he treat her to lunch. There were food vendor carts and other restaurants scattered around the block, but he insisted on taking to a place across town.
She leaned back in her chair. "I don't have time for that."
"Yes, you do," he said from his own seat on the other side of her desk. "You're part-time."
"You think because I'm part-time I don't have to do my job?" She'd never been under more pressure to do her job well, to make those shortened hours count. Why couldn't he see that?
He shook his head. "That's not what I said." There was a pause as he jiggled his leg in his chair for a half-second, and then he said, "Kevin's been asking about you."
Her eyebrows rose. They almost never talked about Kevin, and if they did, he was a mention in passing, not a subject all his own. "And?"
"Apparently he's been calling. He thinks your phone's broken, seeing as how you're not answering."
She looked down at her paperwork. "I don't have anything to say to him, Javi."
"Nothing at all? Not even to take one phone call? You two have that history—"
"Yes, history. It's in the past. I've moved on." The words felt like a lie, though she couldn't quite figured out why that was. He'd been a huge part of her life for so long, but then after the breakup he'd all but fallen off the map. And now he was back, apparently. Working the same building again, as if the last year had never happened, as if he hadn't moved to Boston to get away from her.
She knew if she pulled up her phone right now, she'd find seven missed calls from him in the last three weeks. A few text messages too. All gently phrased requests for her to talk to him. She just couldn't understand it. He hated her. Had hated her, at least. And rightfully so, considering she'd broken things between them so thoroughly he'd felt had no choice but to skip town.
The look on Javi's face told her he knew she was lying too. "If you've moved on, then why can't you pick up the phone?"
It was the million-dollar question. One Alexis had no problem providing answers for: I've moved on; I don't want him in my life; He represents everything I'm so ashamed of; He's confusing, and I don't want to follow wherever he's leading and end up flat on my face—again. But all the answers she'd managed to scrape together didn't quite sum it up. Didn't account for the flash of memory he'd triggered in the elevator. Didn't include the hazy dreams she had whenever she was lucky enough to sleep, dreams that left her aching and breathless, hungry for something, someone she couldn't have, and drowning in a strange, heady cocktail of longing and anger and panic—for reasons she didn't fully understand.
Of course, the thought of confessing any of this to her partner—whom she'd already put through so much—made her want to curl up in shame. So instead she ignored that million-dollar question and scoffed. "Did he put you up to this?"
"He really wants to talk to you. Just once."
"What could he possibly have to tell me that's so important? He hasn't been in my life in over a year."
"Except for those daily visits in the hospital," he helpfully reminded her. "He didn't miss a day, until you asked him to stop coming."
Another question she didn't have answers for. She frowned. "Fine. I'll call him back."
"You'll talk to him?" he asked. "You'll listen to what he has to say?"
"That's what I just said."
He brightened. "Great. Now how about lunch?"
"This paperwork isn't going to take care of itself. You're sweet, but I'm never going to be taken seriously again if I don't do my job."
He pushed her coat into her arms. "You are doing your job. And you're doing it well. Now it's time for lunch."
She shoved an arm into her coat and grabbed her purse. "What's so special about this place, anyway?"
"You'll find out."
When they finally arrived at the quiet, hole-in-the-wall restaurant, Alexis turned to find Javier staring at the storefront with an expression she couldn't parse. It was like he was mentally preparing himself for something.
"Are we going to go in or just stare at the place?" she asked.
He sighed and nodded. "You head in. I need to make a quick call."
"Oookay." She reached for the handle, and Javi caught her other arm.
"Hey. Remember, you said you'd listen."
She frowned as a strange sense of foreboding set in. He wouldn't . . . would he? "What's going on?"
"Nothing." He gave her a smile that didn't reach anywhere near his eyes. "I'll be right in."
When Alexis walked through the door of the restaurant and saw Kevin Ryan sitting alone in a booth near the back, she realized she wasn't as surprised as she should have been. Maybe that had been Javi's intent all along.
Their eyes met, and that strange mix of emotions rushed through her again. For one second, she considered leaving. Screw Kevin Ryan and his incomprehensible need to talk to her, and screw Javi for throwing her into this trap.
And then Kevin gave her a small, gentle smile. The same smile he'd given her almost constantly since she'd woken up in the hospital, save for that time at the precinct. So gentle, so respectful, so eager to please.
The Kevin Ryan she'd fallen in love with had been like that, his smartass persona aside. But the Kevin Ryan she'd left in pieces . . .
Maybe he's moved on too. The thought made her want to vomit, and she didn't know why.
So many questions. Maybe she could finally get some answers.
Alexis took a deep breath and crossed the distance to the booth, never once taking her eyes off of the detective she'd been brought here to meet, the man she used to love. She took a seat across from him, but didn't bother taking off her coat. When the waitress came over to take her order, Alexis ordered a black coffee out of politeness and then turned her attention back to Kevin,
"Hi, Alexis," he said softly.
She'd forgotten how easy it was to get lost in those blue eyes, how the care and concern shining in them never failed to make her heart trip over itself. But she steeled herself against her stupid heart and met those endlessly blue eyes with her own. "I'm listening."
The redhead wasn't happy to be there. And he wasn't particularly excited about the task in front of him either. After Kevin had explained the situation, Javi had said he'd do his best to bring Alexis to meet with Kevin, but only if she agreed to talk to him. Whatever he'd told her, it seemed like it had been enough for him to bring her here, to give Kevin a chance to speak his piece.
He cleared his throat. "We need to talk."
"What about?" Her voice was empty, her expression flat. She seemed just as eager to get this over with as he was. It seemed like she truly did want him out of her life. Well, then this would only help that feeling along.
"I know that I'm far from being a saint," he began, "but I also know that only I can change that, so in order to get myself on a better standing with you, I feel like I need to be completely honest with you. Even if that means you'll be even more upset with me."
Alexis's eyebrows lifted. "Okay?"
Kevin let out a deep breath and decided that instead of just dropping the bomb on her, he needed to lay it all out. After all, the only way for her to make a calculated decision was if she had all the variables.
Kevin ran his hands through his hair. "Alright, well I want you to brace yourself, because what I'm about to tell you might not be something you can handle."
She rolled her eyes. "Can you please stop being so cryptic? If you need to tell me something, just spit it out. I'm a grown woman, Kevin."
"I know you are, but still. It's a lot." He took another deep breath and then started. He talked about his days working in narcotics and going undercover.
"I know how undercover jobs work. We dated while you were in Narco, remember?"
"Right, but I didn't tell you everything. Going undercover meant more than just changing my name. I needed to change almost everything about myself. How I looked, how I talked, and how I reacted. I had to adapt to any situation that was thrown my way. It took dedication and more bravery than I knew I had in me, but I did it because it would help get really horrible people off the streets." His eyes slipped down to the chipped tabletop. "Even if it felt like it cost my soul."
He expected more anger, more derision. Instead, her voice was soft. "That couldn't have been easy."
"It wasn't, but it was my job and as horrible as it could get, I didn't regret it, because at the end of the day I was doing something good."
She leaned in, fiddling with the sugar packets the waitress had given her with her coffee. "And all of this has something to do with me?"
Kevin nodded, biting his bottom lip.
"How?"
"I recently had to go undercover."
"In Boston?"
He shook his head. "No . . . Alexis, I was never in Boston. That was a story to cover up the fact that I was working on an assignment."
"Oh." She sat upright, genuinely surprised, genuinely engaged for the first time since she'd arrived. She seemed to be processing that information against her own faulty recollection. "Wait . . . I thought . . . Did you call me? And you said you were in Boston?" She shut her eyes and rubbed her face. "You said . . . you said, 'I forgive you.'" Her eyes snapped open, confusion warring with other emotions. "Am I remembering that right?"
He sighed. This was already going off the rails. "I think so." He wanted to run away, but he couldn't take the easy way out anymore. He needed to confess to everything and let Alexis do whatever she felt was right. He looked at her one last time, taking in everything he could, because he was almost certain that after he told her everything, it would be a long time before he saw her ever again.
Anger brought color to her cheeks. "But why would you call me and tell me all that if you weren't in Boston? Why did you lie?" She glanced around and lowered her voice. "Is this some kind of sick joke to you? You wanted to screw with me one more time so—"
"My undercover job was at Umbra." He'd blurted the words out before she could storm away without him getting the full truth out, but there was no mistaking them.
She went still. "Umbra. Wait, what are you talking about?"
"I know this is a lot to take in, but you need to know everything." He kept his words measured, calm, ignoring the way his heart was beating so hard he was sure she could hear it across the table.
"You weren't there when I was, were you?" Alexis asked. Then she shook her head. "No, it's not a large venue. We definitely would have bumped into each other at some point. I would have noticed."
Kevin bit his tongue. Rubbing it in Alexis's face wouldn't be the best course of action. "We did bump into each other," he finally conceded. "Several times, actually."
Alexis blinked, but didn't offer any words.
"I looked a little different from how I do now."
"I don't . . . I don't understand."
He took one last deep breath for courage, and then he said, "Fenton O'Connell."
Alexis's eyes widened. "How do you know that name?"
"It was the name that I used while I was undercover at the club."
Alexis thought she must be hearing wrong, that her brain must be more addled than she'd thought, because there was no way that Kevin Ryan was telling her he'd been undercover as Fenton O'Connell. That they were the same man.
"I-I don't understand," she said again. He explained it again in a rush, but she shook her head, her fingers curling tightly around the edge of the table. "That's not possible. I would have recognized you."
"My own sister didn't recognize me when I tried out the new look." His expression softened. "And you thought I was in Boston, right? It had been a year since we'd seen each other. You had no reason to think I would be there."
But that wasn't quite right. Because she remembered thinking of him when she'd first saw Fenton in that hallway. At the time, she'd passed it off as a coincidence. Now . . . now she knew she should have trusted her instincts. She sank back into the booth as the implications began to set in. All those scenes. All that time they'd spent together. All the different ways he'd touched her—
"Oh my god." She was going to be sick.
"I told myself I was protecting you. It was a mistake, obviously. And I would have told you sooner, but I thought you knew, and—"
This new detail made her press pause on her breakdown. She looked up, her fingers pressed to her lips. She dropped her hand. "What do you mean you thought I knew?"
"You found out the truth. Before you got hurt, you knew who I was."
She blinked rapidly, searching her mind for anything to confirm or deny what he'd said. "When?"
He glanced around, "I um . . . it was at the tail end of our last session."
She stared at him blankly. "When you took me home?"
He shook his head. "Sorry. You don't remember. Obviously." He rubbed his face and apologized again. "It happened after I gave you that collar. Do you . . . do you not remember that session at all?"
He looked as bereft as she felt. "I've been getting . . . flashes." She remembered opening a brown paper-wrapped box and finding that pretty collar inside. Remembered picking out a lingerie set to match. Remembered the pure hunger in Fenton's eyes as he drank her in and then—
Brief images of his mouth, his eyes, her restrained body, his . . . other parts. Words she couldn't quite make out. Sensations too bright and sharp for her to parse. Heat rose in her cheeks. "It was you the whole time?"
He nodded.
"And I knew?"
Another nod.
She didn't know what to think, how to feel. Did it make it better that she'd known before she'd been hurt? Or was the pain this time just as sharp as the last?
She'd been so worried about Fenton, up at night imagining everything from the darkest of scenarios to something as simple as him hating her for not telling him she was a cop. For planting a mic in his office and gathering intel. For using him while he showered her with pleasure, gave her the only release, the few spare moments of happiness that she'd had since before she and Kevin broke up.
Except it had been Kevin all along. Using her too, maybe. Lying to her at the very least.
"How did I respond?" she finally managed to ask. "When I found out the truth?"
"You were furious at me, and rightfully so."
"Did I . . . did we . . ." She couldn't seem to find the words. "We didn't d-do a scene ag-again?" she stammered, her mind so overwrought she felt like she'd gone back a month, back to when it was still an uphill battle to say a complete sentence. There was something pressing on the edges of her mind that she couldn't quantify. Flashes of a memory, maybe.
A hand on a tumbler.
Regret burning down her throat alongside a finger of scotch.
Her hands sliding over his chest, and his resting warm and comforting on her hips.
Her own voice saying, I miss you.
He looked surprised by her question. "No, we didn't."
"D-did I forgive you before M-Moreno . . ."
He sighed. "I don't know. By the end you didn't seem so angry. Things were . . . better. But still a mess. They never stopped being a mess. You finally told me the truth about why you were in the club and then things came to a head with Moreno—and then we almost lost you." His eyes shone with emotion and his throat bobbed. "And, uh, you know the rest."
"Who else knows the truth?" she asked.
"Javi. Morgan. Beckett. Moreno knows some of it. Not all of it, I don't think."
"I was so worried about him. Fenton . . ." She shook herself. "I thought something had happened."
He let out a bitter laugh. "It's tough to kill a cockroach."
Her eyes widened at the pure self-loathing in his tone. "He wasn't . . . you weren't . . ."
"I know what I've done. I'm not here for sympathy. I just needed you to know the truth."
That, at least, she could accept. "And why are you telling me all of this now?"
"Because I wanted you to hear the truth from me. I didn't want you to be blindsided when you saw Moreno again. I know you want to face him, clean this up, and move on. But I know him like I know my own shadow. And the only reason he's agreeing to this deal is because he knows he's caught. He knows he's going down, and he wants to go out swinging."
Her fingertips tapped on the tabletop. "You're trying to protect me again."
"And after all this time, I'm still shit at it."
He flashed her a small, self-deprecating smile, and she felt her own lips tugging up into the ghost of a smile. "Yeah. You really are." She looked back down at the table. Her brain was fried. Her emotions catapulted up and down. For all the sense his confession made, for the desperate relief she felt at finally having some real answers, she couldn't reconcile the hurt, the anger, the devastating loss clawing at her chest.
"I'm so sorry, Alexis. If I could take it all back, I would." He sighed. "All the way back to the day I saw Jenny again."
Something like laughter bubbled up in her chest, and she covered her mouth with her hands to hold it in. Tears burned in her eyes. It was too much. She couldn't face those old wounds, not when she was already bleeding out. She stumbled to her feet, knocking her hip into the table on the way. Her untouched coffee sloshed over the sides of the mug and onto the tabletop. She forced herself to meet his eyes. "C-can I call you?" Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat. "If I have more questions?"
He nodded. "I'll answer. I promise."
She took a step toward the door then spun back to him. The words spilled out of her mouth before she could think twice about them. "I think . . . I might hate you for this," she confessed. "Really hate you." A few tears slipped down her cheeks, and she wiped them away.
He looked like she'd just sucker-punched him, but he nodded again. "I would understand."
She needed to leave, but one last question hung heavy on the tip of her tongue. One final piece she couldn't seem to place. "I thought I missed Fenton, but now . . . Have I just been missing you?"
His eyes widened, and he reached for her. She stepped back, and his hand froze in the air for a beat before falling back into his lap. A crease appeared between his eyes as he shook his head. "I . . . I don't know. Fenton and I—we both—we're not . . ." He swallowed thickly. "I don't know."
She nodded. "Bye, Kevin."
Alexis walked out the door, and she didn't look back.
She was crying when she got back in the car. The clock on the dash told her it had only been ten minutes since she'd walked in. She felt like she'd aged ten years.
Javi's eyes widened when she slumped into the passenger seat. "Alexis—"
She punched him in the chest. Hard enough that pain lanced up her still-healing arm and she heard the air wheeze out of him. "You're buying lunch." She sniffed. "Every day for the rest of your idiot life."
He coughed and rubbed his chest. "Thanks for not hitting my face, I guess."
"Just get me out of here, Javi." She wiped her face as she looked out the window.
They'd ended up at a bistro on the way back to the precinct, where Alexis ordered the most expensive thing on the modest menu, just to spite her partner, and broke her self-imposed alcohol ban with a glass of red wine that would pair well with her steak au poivre.
Her partner was smart enough to stay quiet and let her process until she'd finished a third of her steak and half her glass of wine. Finally, she set down her utensils and wiped her mouth with her napkin before meeting his eyes. She'd stopped crying on the way back from meeting with Kevin, but she knew her eyes must still be red and swollen. "How could you let me walk into that?"
He set down his croque monsieur, chewing thoughtfully for a moment. "It wasn't my truth to tell. And if you had picked up the phone when he called, neither one of us would be here right now."
"So you're saying this is my fault?"
"You and Kev really have a knack for putting me in impossible situations. I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't, but neither of you think about that when you rope me into your shit." He sighed and then took a sip of water. "He called me last night and told me that you didn't remember the truth and that you wouldn't talk to him. And he was beside himself that not only did you have to go through this awful thing a second time, but that you might find out from Moreno or Morgan or some other asshole who doesn't care about you."
She frowned. "You want me to give him a medal for showing some basic human decency? For roping you into lying to me to do it? Or, I don't know, maybe the real question I should be asking is how I've made it this long without anyone asking me if I remember doing kinky shit with my ex-boyfriend in disguise?"
A couple nearby frowned at them, and Alexis ducked her head, lowering her voice. "How the hell did this happen?"
"Oh, you're going wide with this." He took her anger in stride. "Fine. The answer was that we had no reason to believe you didn't remember that particular detail. You seemed to remember other things from around that time, from days later, even. You weren't asking about Fenton O'Connell. Your behavior around Kevin seemed on par—"
"You could have asked me!" she leaned in and hissed.
"Sure, maybe. But how do you ask someone if they know what they've forgotten?"
She sat back hard, breathing deeply to control the tidal wave of emotions threatening to wash her away. "I hate this. I hate living like this. I hate my stupid broken brain."
Javier risked her anger by reached across the table and taking her hand. He squeezed it gently. "It'll get better. I promise."
"How can I believe anything you say? You lied to me. I hate it."
"I know."
Her lower lip trembled. "I hate that Kevin lied to me too." She squeezed his hand so tightly she was sure he felt the ache in his bones. "But you know the worst part?"
"That you caught feelings for a guy who doesn't exist?"
She shook her head. "Worse. I hate myself the most. I hate that I did what I did, lying to everyone—you especially—sneaking around, throwing together sloppy police work and calling it justice. I have pushed away every person I loved. Every single one. You, Dad. My friends. And . . . ever since the day I cheated on him, I haven't stopped pushing Kevin away."
"You might have pushed us out, but we never left you. We're still here."
She let his hand go. "I don't deserve that."
"Deserve what?"
"Kindness. Forgiveness," she bit out. The words were like drawing poison from a wound. A deep one that had been left to fester for far too long. "I-I had my chance at happiness, and I threw it away. And I have to learn to live with that."
Javi's expression was soft, sad. "You know, Kevin forgave you a long time ago. And I've forgiven you—even though I'm pretty sure you dented my lung when you punch me." His lips tilted up into a soft smile. "Beckett, she's still gonna make you earn it, but she forgave you. I'm sure your dad forgave you. Maybe you should try going a little easier on yourself for a while. See how it feels."
"Kevin told me that he didn't know if I'd forgiven him. He thought maybe I wasn't so angry after a while. Do you know . . . do you know if that's true?"
"You kept things pretty close to your chest, but it seemed like you two had come to some kind of understanding."
She nodded.
And," he added, "I thought he was going to lose his mind when you got hurt. I've known him for a long time, and I've never seen him so completely shattered."
"So you're saying he cared about me? Even though he lied?"
"I think Kevin has always cared a little too much about you, and you him, even after you broke up last year, and that's what keeps getting you both in trouble."
She opened her mouth to refute that claim, but he cut her off. "My two cents: He deserves a kick where the sun don't shine for lying to you like that, but everything he's done since then, all the strings he pulled on his case to keep you from getting fired, all the visits to the hospital while you were still unconscious, all the meals he brought after, coming clean to you now so you don't hear the truth from anyone but him . . . he's trying to make amends. And that's real. And now it's up to you to decide what you want to do with that."
Alexis looked down at her plate. She didn't have the first fucking clue what to do with Kevin Ryan.
"Javi?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry I punched you."
"I forgive you. Now hurry up and eat because Beckett will give us hell for skipping work."
She picked up her utensils and offered him a tired smile. "I forgive you too."
Later that day, after getting off her shift at the precinct, Alexis went straight to her apartment. Ashley was out on a shoot, but she'd texted him to let him know she was stopping by to look through some of her boxes she hadn't brought with her to her dad and grandmother's loft.
There was one box in particular she was looking for: the one that contained all of the outfits she'd worn to Umbra. And while she found every scrap of lace, every stocking and garter and teddy and push-up bra, the collar was nowhere to be found.
She sat back staring down into the box. Where was her collar? Why wasn't it here with the rest of her club clothing?
Kevin's confession had plagued her mind for the rest of the day, and she'd skipped between fury and heartache more times in the last few hours than she could count. In some ways, it made a terrible sort of sense, like some kind of cosmic joke that the man she'd so thoroughly pushed away was the same man she'd snared into being her Dom. And with 20/20 hindsight she remembered the ultimatums she'd given him in her quest to get intel on the club. She'd known that he cared about her enough to keep here away from sick fucks like Seth and Moreno, and she'd taken advantage of that. In some ways, she'd pushed him into dominating her. She'd lied to him. She'd used him.
And yet, in so many other ways, the truth felt like a betrayal that threatened to rip her open. In so many ways, she grieved a loss she didn't fully understand. Her treasured memories with Fenton were gone, poisoned. And yet she still missed him, still thought endlessly about their scenes—the ones she could remember, at least—and still craved the freedom she'd found in submitting to him.
But not to Fenton. To Kevin. The man she'd loved so much that, when things had gone sideways, she'd broken them both. And then she'd spent the last year punishing herself for it.
God, she needed to find that collar. Needed to hold it in her hands, to feel its comforting weight around her neck. She dug through the box once more, and again, it was nowhere to be found. There was nowhere else in the apartment it could be, could there?
Alexis sighed, resting her head on the box, willing herself to remember what she'd done with it. There were so many missing pieces. She didn't know how she'd ever get them back, if she even wanted them.
Maybe she'd gotten rid of the collar when she'd found out the truth. Her stomach twisted at the thought, but it was possible. But maybe . . . maybe it was still around somewhere. With someone else.
She reached for her phone. She didn't know how to bring this up with Kevin, but he'd told her she could call him, and she needed that collar. She needed some tactile reminder of her time with Fenton, something to ease the need bubbling up just beneath her skin.
Her heart in her throat, she dialed his number.
It rang.
And rang.
And rang.
After what felt like forever, the call went to voicemail. She ended the call and set her phone down, blinking back the tears in her eyes.
She should have known better than to trust a promise from Kevin Ryan.
Author's Note: Two long updates in the same week! Talk about a January miracle! Thanks for reading, and please review. More soon!