Page 121 of Another Girl Lost

“I’ll never help him grab another girl.” My hands trembled as I raised the fry to my lips. Was I as strong as I pretended to be?

“Yes, you will. Everyone reaches a point and breaks. Just like I did.”

I crumpled the wrapper.

“It’s going to be soon.” Della folded her bruised arms over her chest.

“He’s going to take you,” I said. “Not me. It’ll be another chance for you to escape.”

“Remember, Tanner has wired this entire house with bombs. He’ll blow it sky high if he doesn’t get what he wants or is caught. If I ran, you’d die.”

My gaze looked up toward the ceiling, imagining it falling on my head. “The house isn’t wired.”

“Yes, it is. I’ve seen the bombs made from gas cans.” Della smoothed her hand over my arm. “Would you miss me if I died?”

“Why do you care?”

“I just do.”

I stared into liquid brown eyes that reflected my own.

“Would you miss me?” she whispered.

An impossible truth bubbled to the surface. “Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t leave you here.”

She smiled. “I knew you liked me.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

SCARLETT

Thursday, July 18, 2024

2:00 p.m.

There was no word from Dawson or Margo all day regarding Tiffany, any DNA results, or the gift I’d left Margo. And waiting was akin to being under the hovering sword of Damocles. Several times I’d almost called Luke to tell him what was going on, but his legal mind wasn’t why I was with him. If it came to it, I’d tell him, but I was still hoping the case would settle itself.

Luke texted me and suggested a late dinner at his place, and I was relieved by the distraction. This would be date number five, or six if you counted the reception. In the world of dating, this invitation came with a weight of expectation. He’d been more patient than most men, and for that I was grateful. How long would he linger before the burden of my past became too taxing?

Knowing it would all one day crash and burn didn’t mean it had collapsed yet. For now, he was still willing to try, and I needed a friend. I texted back, told him dinner sounded good. I would bring wine again.

Four hours later, when I stood on his front doorstep, the neck of a bottle of red wine clenched in my fist, I felt a sliver of anticipation.He always smelled good. His hands weren’t calloused. There was no scruff on his chin. And though he was physically bigger than Tanner, he moved with care rather than like a bull in a china shop, as Tanner had.

When he opened the door, he was still wearing his suit pants, but he’d removed his tie and rolled up his sleeves. My gaze was drawn to the gold watch on his wrist and dark hair trailing muscled arms up under his shirt cuff.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

He leaned in for a kiss. I tensed, but I tipped my body toward his. Our lips touched. He tasted of scotch. “I’m glad you came.”

“Me too.”

He stepped aside and I walked into his place. “Food smells good.”

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