Love in Plain Sight

When keeping it real goes so very wrong. Sera Justice paced along the hallway of Stark Communications & Branding.

She couldn't believe she'd screwed up so badly. Damn. She'd really wanted that job. Something of her own. Well, you can kiss it goodbye now.

"Seriously, Sera, you're going to wear out those shoes. And since they're mine, you might want to chillax on the Prada."

Sera slid a glance to her best friend, Taj, and stuck out her tongue.

Taj rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, real mature. I'm not the one who told you to remove your makeup all dramatic movie-style in front of the client."

"I was trying to prove a concept." Sighing, Sera leaned back against the wall, and banged her head twice.

At Stark Communications, Xavier Stark liked to keep the spirit of competition high. Anyone interested in working on an account had to pitch to the client. It kept everyone working their butts off, lest someone younger and hungrier replace them.

Right now, Sera was the young and hungry one. Stark's newest client was the non-profit Girl Interrupted. They helped young girls find confidence and empowerment, providing workshops on how to handle themselves, run businesses, manage friendships, and how to own their power in a male-dominated world. She could have used a safe place like that when she was a teenager.

Normally, she worked on beauty campaigns as a junior associate. However, there were ten junior associates in that division and it was hard to get seen or noticed without killing herself.

Each client became her sole priority when she was working. She loved beauty campaigns and had an addiction to the perks, but a client like Girl Interrupted could showcase her potential and it was for a cause she actually believed in. All she'd had to do was give the pitch of her life. It should have been easy. She should have had it in the bag. She should not have choked.

The problem was starting the presentation with her numbers and stats for all her past campaigns. She'd bored everyone to sleep. Including her boss. Even the client did that jerk-awake movement of micro-sleep. Not a good look.

An inspired thought came to mind...or what had seemed inspired at the time. She'd put down her pen and notes and ignored her PowerPoint. Instead, pulling out her purse and makeup remover, she'd systematically removed her eye makeup, then the rest of her face makeup, then her lipstick. She'd spread out her hands and said, "This is me."

Everyone had looked at her like she needed to be fitted for a white jacket—the kind with the wrap around arms.

But the client, Eliza Montgomery, had sat up straighter. As had her business partner. The moment Sera saw that, she'd told them about herself. Not the part of her she kept hidden. But the broad strokes. The troubled teen years—the loneliness. She'd told a room full of people that she had been just the kind of girl they try to help.

Yes, she had the qualifications, and they could see that. And her reputation, so far, spoke for itself. But more than that, she bared part of herself.

It had been a personal pitch. Maybe a little too personal. Sera slid her hands down her face. "I went too far, didn't I?"

Taj shook her head in the way best friends do. "No, but next time, let's skip the fucking I-woke-up-like-this demo."

Laughter bubbled out easily despite her dour mood. That was Taj for you. Unfailing loyalty and the kind of mouth that would make a sailor blush. She'd been raised by strict Indian parents and busted out of that shell the moment she got out on her own. When Sera had started at Stark, she couldn't believe the pretty Indian girl had a mouth like that. They'd bonded instantly. When she wanted to do something crazy, Taj was the first to rally behind her and organize the bail money.

Sera laughed. "Yeah, next time. That's if Xavier doesn't fire me first."

"Relax, he's not going to fire you. Besides, he'd have to deal with me. Do you know how many office mates I went through before you moved in? No one removes my bestie."

"Are you forgetting that you made every single one of them leave?"

Taj's shoulders lifted, displacing the thick, inky hair that fell over her bare shoulder. "Details."

Down the long hall a door opened up and Xavier's admin called them in. "They're ready to announce now."

Once everyone was seated back in the massive conference room, Sera tried hard not to fidget as Xavier spoke. "Good morning everyone. Given the amount of work we have to do, I'm going to get to the point. Girl Interrupted's Go Girl event is in just a few short weeks and it's on a tight budget so time is of the essence. Remember, the account manager who does the best job will be named permanently to the GI campaign." He shuffled the papers in front of him.

"I took into account past performance, client feedback and request, as well as who is best suited. Not to mention your pitches from this morning." He slid a pointed gaze in Sera’s direction. Tension rolled through her shoulders and settled into a tight little ball just over her shoulder blade. Come on. Come on.

"The first of the primary brand managers will be Jason Braiburn for the dedication he shows with sports and philanthropy as well as his experience with high-profile clientele. Not to mention his track record here at Stark."

Sera ground her teeth as she read between the lines. She was one of the few people that knew that Jason was a Stark. They'd gone to San Diego University together. Even shared some classes. Not that he'd noticed. Jason dropped his last name, going with his middle name, Braiburn, when he started working here.

If he was on the account, that meant there was no way she was. They'd pair him with someone with more experience. Damn it. She'd really wanted this one, and had put a lot of work into getting it.

Too busy in her own world, it wasn't until Taj elbowed her in the ribs that Sera realized she'd missed something.

"…her experience with her brand clients, combined with her stand out effort with the Glitz campaign. Not to mention the client asked for her by name."

All around the table, pairs of curious eyes flickered in her direction. What had she missed?

Taj, ever helpful, grinned at her. "This is where you smile, baby girl. Congrats."

Wait, what? Sera forced a smile and hoped she looked thrilled and humble instead of surprised and constipated.

"I'm sure this team will show them our Stark best."

Right, her best…and Jason's best. She was caught somewhere between a booty dance and a mild panic attack. She'd gotten what she wanted. All on her own. Now all she had to do was work overtime to prove she deserved it.

***

"Celebrate good times tonight," Taj sang at the top of her lungs as they strolled back to the office, celebratory coffee in tow.

Sera barely contained the snort of laughter as she balanced her precarious load of latté, coffee cake, and muffin. She hadn't eaten that morning because of the nerves. Not that she had any food at home. "I see you're still on your 80s kick."

"Nothing says happy like cheesy 80s music. I can't believe that crazy plan worked. I mean, who knew?"

"Believe me, I'm as surprised as everyone else."

Taj did a little dance. "Well you know this calls for celebratory drinks. The Exchange?"

"Sounds good, but can we do it Friday? Ava will be back and that way we can all celebrate." The third member of their trifecta at Stark was on site with a client in L.A.

Taj pursed her lips but said nothing and Sera sighed. Taj and Ava had never gotten along. Just about the only thing they had in common was her. They tolerated each other for her sake. Taj changed the subject. "Are you ready to wipe the floor with Pretty Boy Ken Doll? Jason is good, but you are on fire with that client. I mean…"

Taj kept talking, but Sera didn't hear her. Deafening silence overtook her senses as her body went on lockdown. Aaron. Sweat popped on her brow.

To her right, in the next café over, she spotted her ex. When the street started to tilt, she did the logical thing and ducked behind a flower box.

It took Taj a second but she eventually realized that Sera wasn't with her. When she ducked next to her, she whispered, "Mob assassin or zombie attack?" Sera furrowed her brow and Taj rolled her eyes. "Are we ducking an assassin or are we ducking a zombie?"

"Worse. Ex." She inclined her head toward the café.

Taj cursed and tried to stand, but Sera held her tight. "Don't."

"Why the fuck not? He deserves a cussing out."

Sera's pulse boomed in her skull. "Please. I don't want to deal right now."

Taj looked like she was ready to do battle, but her angry gaze scanned Sera's face, then she relented. She spent the next several minutes distracting her with kitten videos on her phone. When they stood, Taj said softly, "We don't have to talk today, but we will talk eventually about this."

Sera nodded. "I know. Just not today. Okay?"

Taj nodded. "You got it. Today, we celebrate."

Sooner or later, Sera knew she'd have to deal with him. The last conversation they'd had, she left him in the middle of a crowded restaurant after he'd admitted to cheating on her. The kicker of it was, he thought once he came clean, she'd stick by him. You thought wrong, ass wipe.

She and Aaron had met her junior year at SDU. And like a moron she'd thought they were so good together. That they were going to live happily ever after. Fast forward two years and she was trying to piece her life together. Clearly she was handling it well.

As they approached the massive glass doors, the hairs on Sera's neck stood at attention. With the chill crawling up her spine, she whipped her head around trying to pinpoint what was causing the Houston, we have a problem signals. At the corner, a man stood looking in their direction. Her gut curled in on itself and her breath caught as a sheen of sweat coated her skin. No. It can't be.

Sera squeezed her eyes tight and then tried to focus better, but when she opened her eyes again, he was gone.

"Earth to Sera. You coming or what?"

She blinked at Taj, before turning to the corner again. You're losing it. "Sorry." She hadn't been sleeping well the last few weeks as she prepped for the pitch. Clearly it was taking a toll. She was seeing ghosts now. Time to start getting some rest.

Once they were upstairs, Taj ran off to a meeting and Sera's phone rang. "This is Sera."

"It's nice to see you answer the phone when I call."

Sera's heart stuttered. "Mom, what's wrong?" If her mother was calling, it was either the second coming or the apocalypse. Right about now, she was leaning toward apocalypse.

"Serafina, don't be so dramatic. It's not like I don't call you."

Sera bit her tongue. There was nothing she hated more than being called a drama queen. It was her mother's favorite insult. And no, unless it was to inform her of some edict she expected Sera to follow, she didn't call. "What do you need?"

Her mother sighed. "I'm calling to tell you that I'm putting in my presidential bid. I'll be heading out on the campaign trail and I'll need you home in a few weeks for the announcement. It coincides with your brother’s anniversary. So we’ll need to show a united front."

Sera's skin went clammy and she swallowed hard. "You're running for president?"

"Yes. It's a good move. And I think I can win. I can do a lot of good. I'll have Theresa send you the campaign details. But it will be a grueling pace so I'll need you at top form. See the doctor first to get what you need if you must. But there is no room for error here, Serafina."

Sera's whole world titled as her mother's words filtered through her consciousness. President…campaign…anniversary. Her mother expected her on the campaign trail…by her side. And she wanted to use the anniversary of Malcolm's death to kick things off.

The flash of fury, hot and blinding, had her snapping out of the fog. "No."

"And we'll need—excuse me?"

"You heard me. No. I won't be coming back. I told you years ago. I want no part of that world. I'm not coming back. Especially not so you can parade me in front of cameras for your political gain."

"Serafina, we need to show a united front. This is important."

"Congratulations or whatever on your bid to rule the world. I want no part of it."

"Sweetheart, don’t be melodramatic. Besides, you have no choice. This is happening. You will be on board. I know this will be stressful, but I think you can handle—"

Sera’s fury flashed and then she snagged hold of the controls and yanked it into submission. "Good luck with that. I told you. I'm not going back there. Especially not so you can use it as a photo-op to further your career."

"Serafina, a run for president is just about the most important thing that I can do. For Malcolm, for everything this family has suffered. You will toe the line."

Sera didn't have the energy to fight. Her mother had been doing this for years. "No. I won't. Goodbye, Mom." Sera sniffed deep and held the tears at bay. There was no way in hell she was going back.

This should be easy. Dylan Donovan glared at Senator Anita Justice's oak wood door. All he had to do was walk in, collect on his IOU, and he'd be out. But he'd learned from experience nothing ever went that smoothly with the senator.

That woman was always working her own agenda. It was because of her that he'd ended up in DC instead of New York. How he'd ended up working on her task force instead of the BAU. And how he'd ended up alone, instead of with a fiancée and the kid he loved as if she was his. When the senator had pulled strings last year to have him reassigned, he hadn't had any say in the matter.

And his fiancée, Symone, had pulled the plug on their relationship. "You have no idea what long distance will do to the relationship. Not to mention what it would do to Carmen."

Carmen was Symone's daughter from a previous relationship, but Dylan loved the little girl like mad. During the two-year relationship with Symone he'd been a surrogate father to her. But since he'd been assigned in DC, Symone hadn't allowed visitation. Telling him she thought it was bad for Carmen to still be so attached to him. Especially if he wasn’t going to be part of Carmen’s life.

He resented that. When he’d met Symone, she was a little older and her life was settled. On a certain path. She was refined. Elegant, driven. And then he’d met her daughter and fallen in love. In so many ways Carmen was a little adult. But spending time with her reminded him of when he’d been growing up. Symone had that kid too confined with rigid schedules and nannies and regimens.

For him to say that, that was saying something. They’d managed to chat a few times on the phone, but mostly they exchanged emails. It killed him every time she asked why she couldn't see him. I'm fixing it now, kiddo. If he was back in New York, he could get his life back.

Senator Justice was the key to getting his life back, so he'd had to make nice. This woman could get him back to NYC.

The senator's scheduler gave him a bright smile. "She'll see you now."

“Agent Donovan, it's good to see you. How are you?"

Dylan Donovan met the gaze of the formidable senator. Anita Justice was known as a pit bull. Half the men on the Hill were terrified of her. "Fine, ma'am." He gave the standard answer. "I see you're well?"

Rotating her shoulder, she replied. "You're kind to ask about an old lady. I have full range of motion back. It only hurts now when I play tennis."

She'd been shot in the incident last year, but she recovered quickly—barely missing a beat. Unlike him, where on the surface, everything was fine, but his emotions were the equivalent of a Jackson Pollock painting.

"I'm busy and you need a favor," she said. Leave it to her to cut to the chase. "I understand you have requested a transfer from the task force to the New York division of the anti-terrorism BAU."

Dylan cleared his throat. He wasn't easily intimidated, but he recognized he needed this woman. The same woman who'd forced him to come to DC. Sure she'd framed it as a good career move. But it didn't change the fact that she'd pulled strings to yank him from New York. Senator Anita Justice wasn't used to hearing no. "Yes. While I've enjoyed my time on your task force, the BAU is the direction I'd like for my career. The analysis and pathology appeals to me."

Anita Justice nodded thoughtfully. "I see that. Catch the bad guys before they act out their plans for destruction."

"I'm happy to consult, but it's a better fit." If she wanted she could keep him in DC indefinitely. But she knew she owed him. Though, to people like her, that didn't seem to matter.

The task force she created was a joint effort from all the federal law enforcement agencies to target domestic terrorists fixated on wreaking havoc and destruction on the government. The senator had been targeted by one of those groups during her lobby for stricter gun control.

"I understand."

The silence hung between them. She knew she owed him, but she was going to make him ask. Hell. "Your recommendation would go a long way."

"Obviously, I have known for some time that you wanted the BAU. We discussed this last year. Back to New York? Why not DC?"

That was the only way to right this train. "My life was there before I came to DC." Before he'd taken a life to save hers and lost his sanity. She owed him.

The senator sighed and fiddled with a folder on her desk. "I have to tell you, the timing isn't great. As you know I'm putting in a bid for president."

Dylan's heart pounded against his ribs, and he leaned forward in his seat. "I'd heard it was a possibility. Congratulations, Senator." After the shooting she'd strongly suggested he join her task force. He'd made it clear that he wanted the BAU and she'd pulled every string she could to have him pulled to DC. He resented what she'd done, but when a US senator took interest in your career, you did as you were told…to a point.

"I need someone like you, Agent Donovan."

"All due respect, ma'am, I'm an FBI Agent. It's all I've ever wanted to be. It's time to get back to my life. Either way, I'm going back to New York." He hated to burn the bridge, but he'd set Semtex to it if it meant getting his life back.

The senator studied him with a direct stare. He knew from experience she wasn't used to hearing no. Finally she sighed. "I understand. You have no political aspirations at all, do you, agent?"

"Not at all. I like my life a little more black and white." He replied shaking his head.

"Well, Agent Donovan, the world unfortunately is never that clear. Some of us have to live in shades of gray." She sighed and tapped the folder in front of her. "I owe you my life. I know it, you know it. And I want people on my team who want to be there there. I'll give you what you want. Hell, I'll call the director personally, but I'm going to need you to do something for me first."

Dylan clenched his jaw. "If it's all the same, Senator, I'd rather get back to my life."

She surprised him with a smile. "And that's why I like you, Agent Donovan. No bull. You can see a lure from a mile. I give you my word. I'm not fucking with you. This is important and has nothing to do with my politics."

Somehow he doubted that, but he said, "What do you need?"

Nodding, she knew she had him at least sniffing the bait. "You know of my family tragedy?"

Everyone in political circles knew. In the early days of her career, she'd been targeted by an anti-government militia group because of her policies on gun control. Their leader, Tommy Cochran, targeted her blaming her gun-control laws for impacting their business. They were so far on the fringe and radicalized that they advocated martial law. They were a small group no one worried about until their youngest brother, Roy Cochran, had been busted for trafficking on the border.

The oldest brother, Tommy, then kidnapped the senator's children. He'd assumed she could make a trade for his brother. Senator Justice’s son did not survive. In the resulting melee, Cochran escaped and had been at large for eight years. They'd caught him in Canada four months ago and extradited him.

"Yes, I'm aware of the history."

She nodded and pulled a file from the stack on her desk. "I've been getting letters for months, years even from that bunch of crackpots. But they are low-level threats. Two weeks ago, I got photos."

Dylan took the folder and opened it. Inside were photos of a pretty young girl. Maybe college-aged. She had the same smooth, cinnamon skin as the senator. The same dark eyes. But the similarities ended there. In one photo she smiled broadly at a young Indian woman. Heat suffused his skin and he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

"A few days ago, my people intercepted a letter meant for her."

"You have a team watching her?"

Her smile was quick. "Nothing that extreme. I have someone on my payroll who scans any mail that goes to her workplace. It helps me ascertain any threats before they get to her."

The world of politics was something he would never understand. "I don't understand what you need from me."

The senator sighed. "My daughter and I are…estranged…for lack of a better word. After her brother's death, she fell in with a bad crowd. Acted out. When she went away to college, she distanced herself. She changed her name, refused protection. She wants nothing to do with me."

It wasn’t like he could blame the girl. Her brother had died in her arms. "Let me guess, you're thrilled about that?"

"Well, with my bid for presidency, I know that she'll become a target. I helped cover her trail as much as I could. But it's not like I could make her disappear. Someone will find out who she is as soon as my bid goes in."

"So get her some protection."

She grinned. "Glad to see we're on the same page."

Dylan shook his head. "Don't you have Capitol Police for that?"

"Yes, of course. But, I was looking for someone I could trust implicitly. And as you have saved my life before, you fit the bill. The letter I intercepted threatened her life if I chose to run for president. It's from the Cochrans. The anniversary of my son's death is in six weeks. Poetically, it coincides with my announcement."

A shadow of dread wound it's way around his spine. "Let me guess. You want me to keep her out of trouble and cover her in case the Cochrans make good on their threat?"

"Pretty and smart. Aren't you a catch, Agent Donovan."

He smirked. "Just one problem. I have a full case load, and I'm an FBI agent, not a professional babysitter."

"Hear me out. There is another component. Serafina is delicate. She crumbled after her brother died. If she finds out there is a real danger, I'm afraid of what will happen to her psyche. Sera became defiant and a little wild after Malcolm died. I need someone who can be discreet. I think you're that person."

"I'm sorry. But no." He wasn't getting involved in their family bullshit. He had his own family shit to deal with.

"I need her safe. Once I announce, we’ll have the Secret Service. But until then, I don't like not knowing that she's out in the wind. Given her past, she might also attempt to derail my bid. I can't get anyone close enough to really monitor the situation. I know what you've already done for me, but I need your help. You do this and you can go back to New York with my glowing recommendation. You write your own ticket." She sat back and crossed her legs. “I know the situation with your ex. Her daughter, Carmen—you’re quite fond of her, yes?”

“What does Carmen had to do with this?”

“That art conservatory for gifted young artists she’s been dying to get into. She’s been declined twice. I can get her in.”

He swallowed hard. There it was. That opportunity would make Carmen’s whole year. His goal within grasp. It was too tempting to say yes without thinking of the ramifications. The memory of that night a year ago flashed in his mind. When he had saved the senator's life, he'd taken the lives of two others. One of those deaths was the reason he still couldn't sleep at night. You were doing your job. Doing his job or not, he still beat himself up about that night, knowing that if he had things to do differently, he'd still do them the same. "What is it you need?"

"Six weeks in San Diego. I know it derails your current case load, but I can make the calls to give you access to still work."

Studying the photos again, closely, something told him this assignment wouldn't be quite that simple. But he was getting back to his life no matter what it took.

He tried to ignore the warmth coursing through his body as he focused on Sera Justice's smile. She's not a dating prospect. "What will my reception be?"

For the first time, the senator didn't meet his gaze. "Hostile. I don’t want her told about the threats to her life. I won't lie, it looks good to have her by my side, but I'm more concerned about her emotional well-being given her history."

Shit. How bad off had the girl been if her mother was unwilling to tell her the truth—that her life might be in danger? Wisely Dylan kept silent. That was Washington, after all, and the senator would not be the first politician to use personal tragedy for votes. Not your biz.

"Family dynamics aside, you want me to stick to her like glue but you don't want to tell her the truth. That makes my job a little difficult."

"I know. And I'm sorry. But when you're done, the BAU is yours and Carmen gets a dream come true. I want my daughter safe and by my side in six weeks. I don't care how you do it, but let’s downplay the FBI angle. It’ll be easier if she thinks you’re a political fixer or something. She'll resist at first, but I'm working on her compliance. What do you say?"

Dylan met the senator's gaze. This was the same woman who had forced him onto her task force. Trusting her wasn't high on his things to do. He was a good agent. And he'd had high-profile cases. The BAU was in the cards eventually. But he wanted his life back sooner rather than later. And that meant going through the senator. He'd get in and get out unscathed, then he'd be back to his life. Easy. It would be over in no time. "I have an event in New York tonight. But I'll get on a flight to the West Coast after that."

***

Dylan smiled as his sisters Mia and Delilah stood to make their thank you toasts. The whole family and a hoard of guests he couldn't name or place had bunched into his family's backyard. As happy as he was for his sisters, after Symone, he wasn't sure he saw it for himself. She'd broken his heart when she made the decision to keep him out of Carmen's life. He hadn't taken the job because he'd wanted it. He'd been assigned. His whole world had been dismantled in a matter of days. But now you can have it back. Just babysit this girl and you're back in New York. He'd see Carmen. Work on things with Symone. He could have it back.

Two of his sisters had found love in the last year and a half. Hell, even his brother, Derek, was getting in on the game. It was like they were all being picked off by one hell of a love sniper.

"Your sisters are getting married; why do you look pissed off? I thought you liked Ryan and Nate?"

The smile was automatic at the sound of his sister Jezzie's voice. Immediately he offered up, "Little sisters' boyfriends are the crabgrass in the lawn of life."

She laughed but scrutinized him. "Okay, Charles Shultz, not quite how the quote goes. But go on. Tell me what's up. I know that look on your face."

"I don't think anyone is good enough for them. But I know they'll be happy."

"So what gives with the someone replaced my scotch with hooch expression."

He smirked. "Just work stuff. Enough about me. How's work?"

Jezzie rolled her eyes. "The world of modeling is so scintillating."

Dylan laughed. "It is for me. How come you never bring any friends home?"

"Because my brothers will hit on them." She shook her head. "You guys are predictable. You don't bring impala meat to a lion party."

Dylan snorted. "I'm a good boy, I am."

He and Jezzie sat in companionable silence for several minutes. It was their routine. Jezzie always took a while to work up to what she wanted to say. She wasn't as direct as Delilah or as comfortable in her skin as Mia.

She took a sip of her champagne then studied him closely. "So are you going to tell me what happened today?"

He sighed, not wanting to go into the meeting with the senator. But Jezzie had the kind of dark eyes that made it far too easy to spill secrets. After Dylan told her everything, she sat back. "You thinking Symone will let you see her?"

"I don't know. But I have to keep trying.."

"It's a tough call. Symone was never right for you. You're too contained when you're with her. What is it that Dad always says? 'Love is fucking messy, not orderly and perfunctory.'" She shrugged. "Carmen is a pawn and it sucks."

Dylan liked orderly.

Their mother strutted by looking stunning in a red cocktail dress with her afro curls bouncing around her shoulders. Patting them on their shoulders as she passed she said, "Language!" without a pause to her stride.

Dylan couldn't help it. The laugh bubbled out before he could stop it. "I swear she has ears like a satellite dish."

Jezzie shook her head. "That’s Mom. It's terrifying. Makes me wonder if she doesn't work for the NSA or something."

Dylan grinned. "I wouldn't put it past her."

His sister pegged him with a direct stare. "You're like me. I know you struggle when a little chaos gets tossed into your life. You've been fighting to come back to New York because you think if you can get your life back the nightmares will stop. But you have to wake up because soon you'll realize you treated a symptom and not the disease. The past will still haunt you."

He loved his sister, but what the hell did she know? "I'm fine, Jez."

She took another quiet sip, then dropped the subject. "Dad said you were off to Cali tonight. Off to see Derek?"

"No. Case."

His sister was quiet for a long moment. "Well maybe some time away will help you see things clearly."

It was already clear to him; he was about to get what he wanted. What he needed. And claim his old life back.

An hour later when he'd escaped the crowd into the living room, his father followed suit. "Hey, Dad. You escaping the noise too?"

"No, D2. I wanted to talk to you about something. I know you head out tonight, so I wanted to give it to you before you headed out."

His father handed over an envelope.

"What is this?"

"It's a letter from your mother."

Sweat popped on this brow and suddenly it was hard to get in enough air. "What?"

John Donovan shook his head. "I didn't open it. So you'll have to do that part."

As his dad left him in the kitchen the sounds of the party raged all around him.

Dylan was used to filtering out his emotions. He could do the hard thing without emotions seeping into his decision processes. But this. This he wasn't ready for.

Dylan - I hope this letter finds you well. I know I don't have a right to intrude into

your life, so I sent the letter to your childhood home so that you might open it surrounded by family. I wanted to say I’m sorry. I caused you pain and you were undeserving of it. Know that I was in pain as well. I have heard of your accomplishments from your father. I couldn't be prouder. Just know that

somewhere out in the world is someone who loves you.

-Mom.