Chapter 170

I know, the minute I call Hugo that Miles isn’t going to like this. He hasn’t said as much, mostly because I haven’t told him yet, but also I don’t think he would. He would never tell me I can’t be friends with Hugo, though the thought of it makes him jealous.

Usually that leads to possessive sexy times in the bedroom.

Right now, sex is the last thing I want anywhere near my mind.

Dad lets me have the run of his office while I make the call.

Hugo answers fairly quickly. “Esther. Hello.” He sounds genuinely pleased that I’ve called. It has been some time since last we spoke. It feels good to hear his voice as well. He’s a good friend; I’ve missed him more than I realized, until right now, speaking to him again.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner,” I say.

“We are both busy people,” he replies, generous and patient as always. “I meant to call you as well, to congratulate you on Miles’s success.”

“Thank you,” I say. I want to continue to catch up with him, but more so I want to get the reason I’ve truly called out of the way. It’s weighing down on me like a lead weight in my stomach. “Hugo, I’m afraid I didn’t call for a social chat, though we aren’t due for that.”

“We are, but I understand. What do you need?”

“Information,” I tell him. “About…” I don’t want to say his name, but I know I have to, for the sake of progressing this conversation. “Edward Zimmer.”

Hugo laughs lightly. Why wouldn’t he? He has no idea about my past trauma.

“Looking for some insight into the competition?”

“No…” I say. “I just… um… I…”

I have no idea how to explain myself.

Hugo waits for a moment, then asks, “What’s really going on, Esther?” There’s no hint of humor in his voice any longer. He must be able to tell from my tone that there’s something seriously wrong going on with me.

“I know the kind of man he truly is,” I say. “And knowing that… I don’t understand how he could spring up to stardom seemingly overnight. Not if he didn’t have help from the Whisp—”

“Enough,” Hugo says quickly, cutting me off. “Not on the phone. I’m booked solid tonight, but I can meet you tomorrow after work. Does that work for you?”

It does. I’d make it work, even if it didn’t.

“Where?” I ask.

When Miles finds out about my meeting with Hugo later that night, he’s not pleased, as I suspected he wouldn’t be, but he hides that emotion behind a wall of neutrality.

“Well, I’m not letting you go alone,” he says.

“Hugo is my friend,” I tell him. “He won’t hurt me.”

“I’m not worried he’d trying anything,” Miles says. “I know you’ve already ended things with him, and he’s not the kind of man to overstep in that way. I can admit that, even if we don’t always see eye to eye. I don’t give a shit about Hugo. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“I’ll be okay.”

Miles’s expression goes grim, looking even more dramatic under the harsh overhead lights of my kitchen.

I know he’s thinking about seeing me naked and shaking on the floor of that hotel room, panicking after having seen Edward again. I’m thinking about that too.

But I should be okay. This is Hugo. He is a safe person. He doesn’t have entirely the same calming effect on me that Miles does, but Hugo has been a shoulder for me to cry on more than once. I trust that my body will recognize him as a friend and protector if I start to near the danger zone.

“It should be okay.”

“I should be with you,” Miles says.

The offer is well intentioned and sweet but I can’t possibly accept.

“You being there would draw way too much attention. We can’t have it publically known that we are looking into Zimmer or the Whisperers,” I say. “Hugo will be discrete, but he’s not a magician. You will be noticed, Miles.”

Miles looks away, cursing under his breath.

After a moment, he sighs. “Alright, maybe I am slightly worried about Hugo trying something.”

“Miles!” I scold.

“He’s important to you, Esther. I want you to have your own friends, but I know how he feels about you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I don’t think he’d harm you or anything like that. But I know he’d want to kiss you to try to lift your spirits…”

“Miles,” I say again, softer. I move closer to him, stepping right up into his space. His arms go around me, pulling me in as if on reflex. Both of our bodies know where I belong, and who I belong to.

“Hugo and I are just friends,” I say.

Pressing up on my toes, I gently press my mouth to Miles’s.

He hums against my mouth. We linger, lips pressed together, neither pushing for more nor pulling away. Well, not until I tilt my head and open my mouth, licking at his lips in anticipation.

He hums again, even more satisfied as he licks past my teeth.

I was nervous at first, thinking I might not still enjoy this given my memories. But kissing and holding Miles is as good as it always has been.

My heart races and my body heats up.

I’m so pleased I can continue to be physical with Miles, despite my memories resurfacing. When I’m with Miles, I almost feel like I’m an entirely different person than that scared little girl who hid away in the closet or under her bed.

With Miles, I am a brave and bold fully grown woman, who is proud of herself and her sexuality. I am with a man who values, appreciates me, and gives me pleasure. I am successful, with a great job I’m good at, and two healthy and smart daughters.

When I’m with Miles, I feel like a superhero almost. Untouchable. Bulletproof.

When we break for air, Miles smiles down at me. “Kiss me like that again, and I’ll find a whole other reason to keep you occupied while you should be at dinner.”

“There’s time tonight…” I tell him.

He grins. Together, we go hand in hand to the bedroom, where we occupy ourselves for the rest of the night.

With Miles, I feel so safe and happy, nothing else in the whole rest of the world can touch us. It lifts my spirits and helps me rebuild the armor I need to face the coming storm.

The next night, I sit in the back corner booth of Hugo’s favorite restaurant, with Hugo across from me. Our pleasantries have finished, and we’ve both ordered food and wine.

“There,” Hugo says, after glancing around. No one is near us in the restaurant, nor does anyone seem to be paying us any attention. “Now we can speak freely.” He gives me a patient look. “Ask me whatever you want to ask me.”

I take a breath, gathering my courage.

I do kind of wish Miles was here now, to hold my hand and give me strength. This is much harder than I thought it would be.

But I am no coward, nor am I a scared little girl.

I am brave. I am woman.

So I say, “Tell me about the connection between Edward Zimmer and the Whisperers.”