Hideout by Jack Heath (iphone ebook reader txt) 📕

convince herself as much as me. ‘He’s just helping me get back on my feet.’

‘Oh,’ I say again.

‘He’s really not that bad.’

She doesn’t say compared to you, but that has to be the reason. She thought her ex-husband was an asshole, until she fell in love with someone even worse.

Just as the silence is becoming awkward, the receptionist comes back and hands me a small cream-coloured envelope. ‘Here you go, sir.’ She notices Thistle. ‘Your husband is so brave.’

‘Mm-hm,’ Thistle says, and raises an eyebrow at me as the woman walks away.

‘She’s not wrong about you,’ Thistle adds, when the woman is gone. ‘And yet I feel like she is, somehow.’

I look down at the envelope.

‘Is that a paternity test?’ she asks.

I nod, squeezing it as though that will help me work out what’s inside. I don’t want to open it in front of her. Don’t want her to see my reaction, one way or the other.

‘I don’t think you should open it,’ she says.

I look up sharply. ‘Why?’

‘Kyle wasn’t your son. He can’t have been. Think about it—the odds must be a million to one.’

‘The odds of him ending up in that house with me were a million to one whether he was my son or not.’

There’s a hole in my logic, but Thistle is kind enough not to point it out. ‘Sometimes you think something will be okay until you’re actually faced with it. And then it’s too late.’

‘I have to know,’ I say.

She takes a deep breath. ‘When I had the abortion, I was only nine weeks pregnant. The embryo wasn’t even technically a fetus yet, so I only needed two pills. Like you’d use to get rid of a headache.’

I want to squeeze her hand, but I don’t. She’s sitting on the wrong side of me.

‘The doctor said to take the second pill two days after the first,’ she says. ‘I managed to avoid thinking about the fetus in between. But I wasn’t supposed to swallow the pill. I had to put it inside my cheek and wait for it to dissolve. It takes a long time. Long enough to name the baby. Long enough to plan out its whole life in my head.’

She doesn’t look upset as she says this. It’s ancient history to her. But not to me. I missed this whole chunk of her life. I wish I’d been there for her. My eyes burn.

‘I’ve always been pro-choice. But when I was waiting for that second pill to work, it really felt like I was killing something. I wasn’t,’ she adds quickly. ‘But it felt like it.’

I’m not sure why she’s telling me this. ‘You made the right call.’

‘I know. But it was hard. Losing a potential child.’ She clears her throat. ‘Either Kyle was your kid and he’s gone, or he wasn’t your kid and then you’ve lost him in a whole other way. Opening that envelope won’t bring you any peace.’

I want to fight her. What would you know? But I don’t.

‘Do you think …’ I almost can’t finish the question. ‘Do you think I would have been a good father?’

Thistle hesitates. Wanting to lie. Unable to. ‘No. But I’m sorry you never got the chance to try.’

The tears come then, blotching the envelope in my hands. Thistle puts her hand on my back.

‘Can I take this with me?’ My voice wobbles. ‘While I think about it?’

‘Take it where?’

‘To jail.’

‘I’m not here to arrest you, Blake,’ she says.

‘You’re not?’

She gestures at the corridor. ‘Do you see a SWAT team?’

I’m flattered that she thinks it would take a SWAT team. ‘I told you I’d come quietly.’

‘I’m here to thank you for saving my life.’

‘It’s because of me that you were in danger in the first place.’

‘Maybe,’ Thistle says. ‘But if not for you, the others would still be trapped, or dead. I can’t see anyone else getting them out the way you did.’

Well, no. Escape plans based on self-mutilation are my specialty. ‘You did most of the work,’ I say. ‘We make a good team.’

‘Yeah. We did.’ She looks at the floor. Takes a breath. ‘I have to say goodbye.’

I don’t know what to say. Does she mean right now, or forever?

‘I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault that you’re a—’ she searches for the right word, or for a way to avoid saying it ‘—the way you are. But I can’t do this.’ She gestures back and forth between herself and me. ‘Not with you.’

I knew this was coming, but it’s still a gut punch.

I want to tell her that I can become a good man, someone safe for her to love, but we both know that I can’t change.

‘You could visit me in prison,’ I say, knowing how desperate it sounds.

‘I told you, you’re not getting arrested.’ Thistle forces a smile. ‘As far as the FBI is concerned, you went to the house investigating Fred. When you found yourself outnumbered, you impersonated Lux. Then you got the prisoners out as fast as you could. I didn’t tell anyone about the …’ She hesitates. There’s that word again.

‘Why not?’ I ask.

‘Because I don’t think you’re a danger to anyone.’ She gestures at my stump. ‘And I think you have a good heart.’

Only when you’re around, I want to say. I’m nothing without you. Please don’t go.

‘You should arrest me,’ I say instead.

She looks sceptical and a bit pitying. ‘You want to get arrested?’

‘No,’ I say, not sure what I’m feeling. ‘But … you’re an FBI agent. You have to.’

‘Goodbye, Blake.’ Thistle leans over and kisses me just in front of my ear. She doesn’t steel herself or take a deep breath—she just does it.

I swallow the lump in my