Page 26 of Stone Cold Sinner

Coy looked at Kenzie as if he were seeing her for the first time. He studied her, taking in all that was familiar and all that had changed. He saw the same sweet girl who used to sleep over at his house with his sister but sneaked out with him in the middle of the night to the barn, where they would talk for hours, among other things.

“Hmph.” He snorted. “Same girl, different life, Kenz.”

“I hope I’m not the same girl. The girl you knew had a lot of growing up to do.”

“Pretty sure she did,” he said, still locked in her heated stare. “Pretty sure she did.”

Kenzie’s hand slid off his shoulder, over his bicep, and landed next to him on the center console between them. “So, you noticed.”

“I noticed.” He turned away with a sense of guilt. Maybe because he had no business looking at her the way he was or saying the things he had. She was a grieving widow, after all –– Hell, he was still grieving. It didn’t matter how many years had passed since she lost her husband. She deserved better. Maybe the guilt was also because he was looking at another woman in a way he’d only ever looked at his wife. His dead wife.

“My job… It’s complicated. A lot of what we saw out in the field, active duty, well, that kind of shit happens right here at home. The cases I took on –– specialized in –– were dark, ugly, and diabolical. I took the wrong one. I thought I’d be ridding the world of one of the worst kinds of predators. Instead, I was double-crossed. The predator preyed on me, took my then-pregnant wife, and did things––”

“Oh my God,” she whispered.

“I pray God was there that day. I hope He was, anyway. What Emery endured… because of me––”

“It wasn’t because of you, Coy,” she said quietly as her voice quaked. “It’s the job.”

He whipped his head in her direction, and suddenly, the lines in his face were sharply defined and ran deep as his expression hardened. “A job I chose to take. Money blinded me. I didn’t protect my family like I should have.”

“You couldn’t have known what was going to happen.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Perhaps if I’d done a little more recon, dug for more intel, hid my wife until I was done and knew everyone was safe.” Coy paused. “He found out who I was. Despite all the fail-safes we have in place in this line of work, he still found her. Taught me a lesson. One I learned dearly from. Emery was kidnapped, trafficked, and tortured… until she died from the injuries she sustained. Then, she was left in a dark, cold warehouse that had been nothing more than a temporary brothel. I, uh, I was the one who found her.”

Now, it was Kenzie who took Coy’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I… I don’t even know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say,” Coy said, turning his attention to Kenzie while his tone flattened and words trailed off, a hint of concern flickering in his eyes as he gauged her reaction. “Nothing anyone can say or do to bring her back or undo all the shit we’ve all done and gotten ourselves involved in –– regretted doing or getting involved in.”

“You’re absolutely right about that,” she agreed as a lone tear trailed her cheek.

Coy swiped it away. “There’s a cost to serving, protecting, and trying to make the world a better place. We both paid that price heavily.”

“That we did.” She sighed. “Though I have… so many regrets, I still think I would do it all over again. I wouldn’t trade the good memories for anything because they’re worth having, even if the cost was so great. They say that the pain and grief is a measure of love. The greater the pain, the greater the love. I feel lucky to know that kind of love.”

Coy looked at her but didn’t say a thing as he let her words wash over him. The more he thought about it and considered her idea, the more it made sense to him.

“You know. I hadn’t really ever heard it put that way before,” he said, bobbing his head. “I, uh, suppose I wouldn’t trade the memories for anything either… They’re what keeps me going. Keeps me fighting. Strengthens the mission to right all the wrongs. I wish I didn’t have to do life without her, but I’m glad I didn’t have to go through it without having known her like I did. Or loving her. Wow, that’s hard to say.”

“Perspective. It’s a wild thing,” she said. “All we can do is lean into the good times because they far outnumber the bad, right?”

“When you put it like that, yeah,” he agreed. “There were a lot more good times than bad. Shit. When did you get so smart, Kenz?” Coy replied with a side-eye and a half-hearted grin, his expression betraying a mix of amusement and skepticism.

“When I finally grew up and realized I had a choice. Live a whole life with all that it comes with –– or live a half-life that may not be worth livin’. Chose the aforementioned, obviously. I think the trials and tribulations make us better people. Stronger. Smarter, even. It’s a choice. Learn to overcome and do something with it –– or fall victim to your worst days. What do you choose, Stone?”

“You ought to write a book on that.” He snickered.

“I’m sure someone already has,” she said with a half-smirk.

“I guess…” he began with hesitation. “I guess I choose the aforementioned too. No one’s quite said anything like that to me before.”

“Ah, unless someone’s been through it, in the ways we have, there isn’t much they can say that sticks. All the condolences and well wishes are all great and fine, comforting even, but figuring the part out that I just shared… Game changer.”

“I suppose you’re right.” And oddly, Coy felt lighter. That wasn’t to say he was done grieving or missing his wife. Hell, that would be his life sentence. But somehow missing her, grieving her, and regretting his role in her demise felt… different.

“Look at us.” She chuckled. “Couple of small-town kids went out into the big bad world, came back home with big world problems… and broken.”

“Somethin’ like that,” he agreed. “Now I understand why you gave Ran such a hard time.”

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