Chapter 42 Coffee Between Strangers
Elena didn't sleep.
She'd stared at the ceiling for hours, listening to the house settle around her, hyperaware of Pierce somewhere downstairs. Eventually exhaustion won, pulling her under for maybe two hours of restless sleep filled with gunfire and blood.
When the pale morning light filtered through the curtains, Elena gave up and got out of bed.
She could hear movement downstairs. Someone was already awake.
Elena pulled on jeans and a sweater, ran her fingers through her hair, and braced herself before opening her bedroom door.
The smell of coffee hit her immediately.
She found Pierce in the kitchen, his back to her, pouring coffee into two mugs. He'd changed clothes, dark jeans, black sweater, and looked like he'd slept about as much as she had.
Elena stood in the doorway, unsure whether to announce herself or retreat back upstairs.
Pierce turned, like he'd sensed her there and their eyes met.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
"Good morning," Pierce said finally, his voice carefully neutral.
"Morning." She said quickly.
He gestured to the second mug. "You want coffee?"
Elena wanted to say no, wanted to tell him she didn't need anything from him, but she needed coffee more than she needed pride.
"Thanks." She said as she moved to the counter, taking the mug he slid toward her making sure their fingers didn't touch, both of them careful to maintain distance.
Elena took a sip, grateful for something to do with her hands. The coffee was good, he remembered how she liked it. The realization made her chest ache.
"How was your sleep?" Pierce asked.
"I slept fine."
"Elena..."
"I slept fine, Pierce." Her voice came out sharper than intended. "You don't need to make small talk."
His jaw tightened but he nodded. "I guess you're right."
Silence fell, heavy and uncomfortable. Elena stared into her coffee while Pierce leaned against the opposite counter, both of them existing in the same space but miles apart.
"How's Derek?" Elena asked, because someone had to say something.
"He's better." He said quietly. "Leg's sore but he'll be fine."
"That's good to hear."
More silence, making it unbearable.
Elena was about to make an excuse to leave when Derek appeared in the doorway, limping slightly, looking between them with barely concealed discomfort.
"Good morning," Derek said. "Am I interrupting?"
"No you're not," Elena said quickly.
Derek raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. He moved to the coffee maker, pouring himself a mug, and the tension in the room eased slightly with a third person present.
"How's the leg?" Pierce asked.
"Hurts like hell, but I'll live. Thanks to Elena." Derek nodded at her.
"Just doing my job," Elena said quietly.
Pierce's phone rang, cutting through the awkwardness. He looked at the screen, expression shifting immediately.
"I need to take this." He moved toward the living room, already answering. "Marcus. What've you got?"
Elena tried not to listen and failed terribly.
"...tracked his movements last night?... And?... That doesn't prove anything... I need more than circumstantial..."
Derek caught Elena's eye and shook his head slightly. A warning not to ask.
Pierce came back a few minutes later, jaw tight, eyes cold. "I have to go."
"Where you going?" Elena asked before she could stop herself.
"I've got work." Pierce said quickly.
"What work?"
Pierce looked at her, conflict written across his face. "The less you know, the safer you are."
"That's all lies and you know it." Elena said, eyes sharp.
"Elena..."
"I'm already a target, Pierce." She said, cutting him off. "Knowing what's happening doesn't make me more of one."
"It's complicated."
"Then uncomplicate it for me."
They stared at each other, all the unresolved tension from the night before crackling between them.
"We're investigating a lead," Pierce said finally. "Someone in my organization leaked your location. We've narrowed it down but haven't confirmed who yet."
"And you think you know who it is?"
Pierce's expression gave him away.
"We have suspicions." He said carefully. "That's all."
"Then why leave?"
"Because I need to gather more evidence before I move." Pierce grabbed his jacket from the chair. "Leo's staying. Derek's here. You're safe."
"When will you be back?"
Something flickered in Pierce's eyes. "I don't know."
He moved toward the door, then paused, looking back at her. Like he wanted to say something. Like he was wrestling with words that wouldn't come.
"Be careful," Elena said quietly, hating herself for caring.
"I always am."
Then he was gone, the door closing behind him with a soft click.
Elena stood there holding her coffee, feeling Derek's eyes on her.
"He didn't sleep last night," Derek said quietly. "Sat on that couch all night, just watching the windows."
"I don't care." Elena said, her voice small.
"You asked him to be careful."
Elena's hands tightened on the mug. "That doesn't mean anything."
"Doesn't it?"
She turned to face Derek. "He lied to me about something huge. Something that..." Her voice cracked. "It doesn't matter that he saved me. It doesn't change what he did."
"I know." Derek's voice was gentle. "But it also doesn't change that he'd die for you."
"That's not the same as being honest with me."
"No. It's not." Derek limped toward the living room. "But sometimes it's all people like us know how to give."
Elena stood alone in the kitchen, Derek's words echoing in her head.
She moved to the window, staring out at the trees surrounding the safe house. Isolated but secure. A prison disguised as protection.
Leo appeared in the doorway. "Need anything?"
"No." She said. "I'm fine."
"Boss said to make sure you're comfortable." Derek said calmly. "Anything you need, just ask."
"I need to not be here," Elena said quietly.
"I know. "Leo's expression softened. "But it's safer this way."
"Safe isn't the same as being free." Elena's voice was sharp.
"No. But it beats the alternative."
Elena nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Leo left her alone, and she sank onto the couch where Pierce had spent the night.
She could still feel him here, the indent in the cushion, the faint scent of his cologne. Evidence that he'd been watching over her even when she'd told him she never wanted to see him again.
Elena pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself.
She hated him. Hated what he'd done, what he'd kept from her, the lies he'd told.
But part of her, some stupid, broken part of her, still loved him.
And that made everything so much worse.
Across town, Pierce sat in his car outside a warehouse, watching the entrance.
Xander had been inside for twenty minutes, meeting with someone Marcus couldn't identify. The same pattern as before, burner phone, unknown contacts, movements that didn't add up.
But still no proof.
Pierce's hands tightened on the steering wheel.
If Xander was the leak, if he'd given Rodrigo Elena's location, if he was the reason she'd almost died last night....
Pierce's phone buzzed, it was marcus.
"He's leaving. Got photos of the contact. Running facial recognition now."
"Let me know the second you have something." Pierce's voice was sharp.
"Will do. How's she doing?"
Pierce glanced toward the safe house direction, miles away. "She's alive."
"That's not what I meant."
"I know." Pierce's voice was rough. "She hates me, Marcus. And I can't blame her."
"You saved her life."
"I also destroyed it." Pierce watched Xander emerge from the warehouse, moving with his usual confidence. "One doesn't cancel out the other."
"So what are you going to do?"
"Keep her alive." He said firmly. "That's all I can do now."
Pierce hung up and started his car, following Xander at a distance.
He'd keep Elena safe. Even if she never forgave him. Even if she spent the rest of her life hating him.
He'd make sure she had a life to live.
That was all he had left to give.