“No.” Olive met his gaze with a flat look. “I’m not doing that.”
Levon rocked back in his chair, frowning. “Why?”
“Because I’m done with this. You said you made a mistake getting me involved in the case, so I’m rectifying that for you.” She crossed her arms and raised a brow at him. “Ask Principal James to do it, since he seems to be the one you trust to help you now.”
Shit. He’d known she’d been pissed at him after the other day, but he didn’t think Olive would let that anger override her sense of justice. Apparently he’d been wrong. And it was his own fault, because she was right. He was the one who had pushed her out of the case. “Right. Will do.” He got up to grab his phone off the counter and when he turned around again, Olive was gone.
* * *
“Franklin, what Mr. Asher and I are offering you is a way out,” Principal James said to his student a few hours later. The kid and Levon sat across from him. Based on Franklin’s dour expression, Levon couldn’t help thinking things would have gone a lot smoother if Olive had been there. As it was, there was no denying the feeling of being in the hot seat when you were in the principal’s office. Hell, Levon felt it himself as he shifted, an uncomfortable knot in his stomach.
Of course, having two hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle and ex-SEAL next to you probably didn’t help either. For once, his impressive physique felt like a hindrance to getting the job done. He felt too big for his chair, and didn’t know what to do with his arms. He kept them crossed over his chest mainly because it was his default posture, but from the kid’s nervous glances in his direction, it was telegraphing intimidation instead. At first, Levon figured that was how he wanted it. There was a part of him that had been willing to pursue strong-arm tactics... until he saw Franklin up close. The gangster that had trashed Olive’s classroom was just a scared boy.
Principal James leaned in, his tone coaxing, “So you’ll help us, won’t you, Franklin? You’ll make it up to Miss Owen.” They’d been hammering that particular nail for a while now. It was the one that seemed to get the best results.
“Yes.” Franklin kept his gaze lowered, fiddling with the zipper on his hoodie. The kid was anxious, that much was obvious, and that was okay. He should be scared, considering the company he’d been keeping lately. But it was also obvious to Levon that Franklin wanted to make amends to Olive, a teacher he loved and respected, which bought him some bonus points with Levon.
He wished he could make his own amends, but there wasn’t time now, with the mission on the line.
“I’ll make it up to her... and you’ll take care of her, right?” Franklin turned to Levon then, his gaze pleading. “Make sure she’s safe? And tell her I’m sorry?”
“You can tell her yourself.” Levon uncrossed his arms and patted the kid on the shoulder. “Once this is over. Okay?”
Franklin nodded eventually and a silent understanding passed between them, an agreement that had nothing to do with Principal James, or the Reapers, or even their own personal futures.
It had everything to do with Olive.
* * *
Levon returned to an empty house. Completely empty. Fuck.
Nerves jangling, he called Olive on his cell phone. “Where are you? I thought you were just shopping for baby stuff.”
“I am.” Olive’s voice sounded sullen, maybe even a little annoyed, and Levon’s unease grew. “I’m shopping for stuff for the baby, to put into my house.”
“I don’t follow,” he said.
“I’m starting fresh,” Olive said, a bit too quickly.
He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, unsure how to respond to that. First of all, what the hell was he supposed to do with all that baby stuff? And second, he didn’t want it. It was for Olive, for their baby. He was missing something here, but for the life of him couldn’t figure out what it was. Damned dyslexia. Flustered, he began to pace the small living room, searching for those instincts that had always helped him in the past, but finding them oddly lacking when it came to this situation.
Olive filled in the gaps in his silence. “I’m sure once you wrap up this mission you’ll go back to Arlington and find some other woman to date. Maybe get married and have another baby. You can use that stuff then.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself of this as much as him. “We were never meant to be forever, right?”
Stunned, Levon sank onto the couch and dropped his forehead into his hand. Forever? Hell, he was lucky to plan ahead to the next month in his life. He didn’t think about the future, because honestly, he was never guaranteed to have one. But even so, since he’d come back to Harper’s Forge, back to Olive, he’d kind of imagined she’d always be there, in his life. He wasn’t sure how yet, but he’d pictured her—wanted her—there. Maybe he’d been wrong.
“Levon? Are you there?”
“I’m here.” The words sounded hoarse to his own ears, but his throat seemed to be clogged with a lump of something—not sadness, really, more like… yearning. The realization took him back a bit. Guys didn’t yearn. He wasn’t lonely.
Am I?
The question was harder to ask than he’d imagined. “So you’re not coming back? Ever?”
“No.” Olive bit out the word like it hurt to say. “This is for the best. Really. I have to start making my home. I thought... well, it doesn’t matter what I thought.”
His response slipped out before he could stop it. “It matters to me.”
Several seconds ticked
