to pursue?” he asked. “It can be a lonely and frustrating career, especially without a team working alongside you.”
My eyes found his over the fire; I worked as hard as I could to maintain contact. Not because I didn’t want him to think I was lying. I wasn’t. The truth was just as hard to say with a straight face. “My lying parents didn’t have a strong moral code, to say the least. They would steal an apple from a kindergartner’s hand if they wanted to and they didn’t think they’d get caught. After I—” fled in the night “—graduated from high school and didn’t see them anymore, it felt like my responsibility to punish people like that. To balance the scales of justice, no matter how small. My first criminal justice class felt like…” I pressed my fingertips to my sternum, then stretched my arm out straight. “I felt like a hook had been lodged in my chest and I was being yanked forward. In a really, really good way.”
“You found your calling,” Abe said simply.
“I did,” I said. “I wanted to be a private detective because I wanted to work for myself, work on my own. But I’m slowly learning that taking pictures of employees who are stealing from the company is only so gratifying. This, taking down something bigger than me, feels like the hook in my sternum is on fucking steroids.”
Fewer than four weeks had passed since the first day I’d walked through that dazzling library on my way to meeting Louisa for the first time. This afternoon I’d felt differently towards those books, those students, the value of such a place to our world. I wasn’t a person who had a cultured upbringing, who discussed literature or history or understood classical philosophy. But the vitality of rare manuscripts in what they offered the world was becoming clearer and clearer to me. And the absolute destruction Bernard’s crimes had caused was becoming a cause closer and closer to my heart.
“I understand this feeling well,” Abe said. He removed a Codex business card from his pocket, holding it by his fingers for me to see. “Why did you take this? I don’t doubt at all what you told me. I don’t know what happened to you in the past, Sloane. My guess is your lying parents had something to do with your ability to steal without getting caught. It feels like your past. Not your present. Definitely not your future.”
My lips parted on a surprised inhale.
Sweet, sexy, take-no-bullshit man. No wonder he was so tempting.
“You reacted to Bernard’s name,” I said. “When I was sitting next to you, I caught you respond.”
He swallowed hard. “I caught you respond as well.”
We’d been evenly matched from day one, Abe and I.
“At that stage in the case I was desperate to follow any lead, no matter how small. It was a spontaneous decision, a dumb one, but I wanted to know who you were. Figured checking your pocket was a good start for a small scrap of identifying information. At that point, you weren’t revealing your name to me, remember?”
Emotion flickered across his face, fraught and a little wild. “I remember.”
That still wasn’t the full answer. The full answer was my body’s raw, primal response to Abe. He knew too—was merely waiting for me to reveal the core truth I was hesitant to fully address.
“Growing up, the only way I ever received attention from my parents was by stealing. My instincts, I think, were to steal from you and get your attention. I liked you, Abe.”
The words had spilled out without any editing or uncertainty. My face burned like the fire, and I distracted myself by licking the warm sugar from the tips of my finger.
“Your plan worked,” he said, voice low. “You had my attention, Sloane. Have kept my attention, actually. Even when I should be focused elsewhere.”
I actually gulped beneath the erotic intensity of Abraham Royal studying me like a gourmet dessert he couldn’t wait to savor.
“I am… sorry if it upset you,” I managed. Whispered. “Truly, I am. That was the first time I’d done that since I was a teenager.”
He was watching my lips. Staring at my fingers. Staring at the marshmallow, dripping into my palm. I licked more sugar from my thumb, sighed a little with happiness. It was good. Campfire marshmallows were a brand-new experience for me.
“Why didn’t you give me your real name?” I asked, nudging his knee with mine.