For Jackson, this was nothing. He’d done wilderness survival and lugged packs through mud and rain. Compared to that, a few errands in the city barely registered. In his mind, physical challenges and mental ones were worlds apart. Pushing through the physical stuff came down to pure grit, but the mental strain… that rarely ever pushed you to the edge.
The elevator in Patricia’s building was quick. As soon as the doors slid open, she stepped out ahead of him. Jackson watched her take a couple steps, then pause. Curious, he leaned forward for a better look.
Oliver was there, sitting on the bench by the elevator, leaning back against the wall. When Patricia spotted him, her expression clouded over.
Jackson kept it professional, giving him a nod. “Mr. Padilla.”
“Just got back?” Oliver’s voice was even.
“Yes, I just brought Miss Patricia upstairs. Since you’re here, I’ll head out.” Jackson was polite but firm.
Oliver nodded, as calm as ever in front of others. “Thanks. Appreciate it.”
When the elevator doors shut, Patricia finally spoke. Her voice was quiet. “Why aren’t you inside?”
Oliver stood up. “Chelsea’s not home.”
Patricia pressed her lips together and unlocked the door. “If Chelsea’s not here, you could’ve waited upstairs at Mr. McKee’s place.”
No need to sit out here and put on a show.
“I came to see you. Not Hector.”
They went inside, one after the other. Patricia slipped off her shoes and handed Jackson the men’s slippers Marian had left for him.
“Pattie…”
She was about to head into the living room when Oliver reached out for her wrist.

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