Standing in the Shadows (McClouds & Friends #2)(145)

Riggs's mouth twitched. "Fuck you, McCloud."

"Fuck you, too, Riggs," he replied.

They were silent, eyes locked. Seconds ticked by. Riggs's eyes flicked away. His shoulders slumped. "Barbara was in here last week. She told me what happened. What you did for Erin and Cindy."

Connor waited. Riggs leaned his face in his hands. When he looked up, the frustration of a trapped animal burned in his eyes. "Damn it, McCloud, what do you want? You want me to thank you? You want an apology? Forget it. This place is punishment enough."

"No, I don't want that," Connor said.

"I couldn't protect them, but you can, is that what you're here to tell me? You want to puff out your chest and gloat? Go ahead. Yay for you, *. You did good. You win. You get the grand prize."

"That's what I'm hoping for," he said.

Riggs's eyes narrowed. "Oh, yeah? You think you deserve her, because of this? You think you've earned her? You think—"

"No," he cut in. "Erin decides. What I deserve or don't deserve doesn't mean shit."

"Then what the f*ck are you doing here?" Riggs hissed.

Connor looked away from him. "I was hoping you would wish me luck," he said quietly.

He braced himself for a vicious retort. Silence greeted his words.

When he raised his eyes again, the flush of anger was gone from Riggs's face. It was bleak and gray under the fluorescent light. "You are so f*cking strange," he said heavily. "I always thought so."

Connor lifted his shoulders. "I know. But what can you do."

"You ask a lot."

"You owe me a lot," Connor said. "And I really want this."

Riggs's mouth flattened, like he was tasting something bitter. "Oh, what the hell," he muttered. "Good luck, then. For what it's worth."

Connor let out a long, shaky breath. "Uh… thanks."

"Don't thank me yet," Riggs warned. "Consider the source. Good luck from me might be a curse."

"I'll risk it," Connor said.

"Time's up," said a disembodied voice over a ceiling intercom.

He nodded at Riggs and put down his phone. Riggs gestured for him to pick it up again. Connor put it back to his ear. "What?"

"You keep protecting her, McCloud," Riggs said. "You take good care of her."

"Hell, yes. If she'll let me," he promised. "I was born for it."

Riggs let the phone drop. He got up, turned, and marched away.



The apartment looked even more forlorn now that the pictures and hangings she'd used to cover the stains in the wall were packed away. Miles ducked into the door and headed for the standing mirror.

"Be careful, please," she begged. "It's extremely old."

"I'm always careful," he assured her. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, grabbed the mirror, and galumphed out the door.

Her mother bustled in. "That's all that will fit in the van for now, hon. A couple more armfuls of clothes, and you're out of this place."

Erin tried to smile. "Cindy's still guarding the van?"

"Yes. Let's take down this load, and then we'll go grab a bite."

"I'm not hungry, Mom. I'll just do some last-minute cleaning."

"Cleaning? This place is cleaner than it deserves to be, honey! If you clean it any more, it'll disintegrate into grit!"

"I just need some quiet time," Erin insisted. "Don't worry."

Her mother saw the steely look on Erin's face, and pressed her lips together. "Whatever." She yanked an armful of plastic-wrapped clothes out of the closet and marched out the door, her back stiff.

Erin stood in the middle of the apartment. Her legs trembled from all those trips up and down the six flights of stairs. The elevator, of course, was still broken. Soon that would no longer be her problem.

Her real problem was that something inside her felt broken, too.

She sank down onto the floor in the middle of the room and hugged herself, shivering. It was a warm day, she was sweating, but she still felt cold when she thought of what had happened. Even though Connor had saved her. Disaster had been averted. She hadn't been hurt, and yet she was bleeding inside.

And Connor had not called.

God. What did she expect? What did she want from the guy, anyway? He'd tried so hard to protect her. She had fought him, and undermined him, and finally turned against him, along with the rest of the world. She wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to see her again. He must be disgusted with her. She was disgusted with herself.

And yet, he'd risked his life for her. He had carried her out of that charnel house in his arms. And then he had melted away like fog.

The first few days after Mom brought her home from the hospital, she'd barely cared if she lived or died. She was frozen stiff. She had no feelings at all. She just lay in her bed and stared at the wallpaper until Cindy and her mother were frantic. She didn't care. It was their turn to chew their nails, to tear out their hair, to be the grown-ups. Let them sweat.

Then one day, she'd been lying on her stomach, hand dangling to the floor, and her fingers had brushed over a scrap of folded paper.

Connor's origami unicorn.