Page 107 of The Reborn

We stared at each other as our words sat heavy between us. She had sworn, but it was clear she was doing just that. I just didn’t know why. I only knew I couldn’t let her.

She took a tremulous breath, then put Elizabeth down, quietly pointing her into her room with promises she’d be there in a minute, before she rose to face me again.

“You’re right,” she whispered. “Things have gotten intense, and some stuff came up for me last night that I...” She dropped her head. “I’m working through it, okay?” She took my hand as she looked back up at me. “I do really need to get to work, but we can talk more later. I promise. I’ll do better. And I won’t push you away.”

“I can work with that.”

Then she surprised me by rising up on her toes to grip my head in both hands and kiss me. I dove right in, gripping her waist and letting her taste infuse me, knowing it would have to last me all day.

She drew back to kiss my cheek, then my jaw, before dropping her forehead to my chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“I love you, too, and that’s pretty scary for me, to be honest. Please be patient.”

I kissed the crown of her head. “Always.”

She nodded and I let her go finish getting ready. I loaded her things in the car and gave Elizabeth a piggyback ride outside before seeing them off with a wave.

Unable to help myself, as soon as I got back inside, I checked all the apps I had loaded on my phone, satisfied when I saw her location move on the map down the street and left toward town. Next, I checked the new security system at the studio. Olivia had the full access, but I had enough to tell me it was activated, and no alarms had been triggered. All good.

Knowing all of this was in place was the only way I wasn’t on their tail and was allowing her a fraction of normalcy while I got some work done in private. Because ever since the last crop of intel had come in, something had been nagging me, and I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

I let that thought simmer while I pushed through a quick workout of a hundred pushups and burpees and a three-minute plank. Fast and efficient, it would hold me until I could get out and jog later. I grabbed a fast shower, then sat down with my laptop and opened up my emails.

Unable to locate. Please verify identifying information.

It still made no sense. I looked again at everything I’d sent the first time, based upon the information Detective Contreras had gathered in his interview. It wasn’t much, but the intel company had done more with less before, and I’d given them a name, approximate age, and college. That was more than enough.

Maybe I’d misspelled the name? But honestly, how many ways were there to spell Jonathan Able? And surely my guys had accounted for that. Still, I composed a reply with some other possibilities... Johnathan, Jonathon, just John, as well as Abel. I also asked them to expand their search to men that were not enrolled in the college, between the ages of seventeen and thirty, any race, and lived anywhere in the state of Texas. That should cover all bases.

My phone buzzed with a text.

Kade: Checking in for an update.

Me: Your best client’s sister and niece are safe and sound, don’t worry, boss.

Kade: . . .

I tried not to let it grate that he was checking up on me. Still, I knew he wouldn’t be doing his job if he didn’t.

Me: Security systems on home, car, and business are up and running. As you know one suspect eliminated. Working on two others now.

I knew no response meant he was waiting for me to elaborate.

Me: Babysitters ex and baby daddy. Things not adding up on either one so digging in until I make the math work.

Kade: Call if you need anything.

Me: Will do. Thanks.

Next, I opened the email with the photos of Christoph. I frowned hard as I zoomed in on the photos, trying to picture Olivia with him. These files gave me a lot of information, but not nearly enough. Overseas intel always took longer.

The blonde on his arm looked like a teenager. Probably another student. The thought disgusted me.

I focused in on the scenes around him, and I could imagine Olivia on those Italian streets, happy and carefree, her whole life ahead of her, as she waltzed in the doors to that studio, eager to learn. How long had it taken him to weasel his way into her bed? Her heart? To make a baby with her, then throw them both away like trash? Such a scumbag.

I flipped through the photos again and again, not really sure what I was looking for, but getting more and more pissed off.

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