Page 39 of Lost in Life

Tavish gulps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sworn to secrecy. Got it.” Crossing the room, he sinks into a swivel chair in front of the computer and begins typing. “What am I looking for?” He glances over his shoulder at me before returning his attention back to the monitors, adding, “Or who?”

Walking closer, I lean against the wall, crossing my arms. “Two civilians.” My mind flashes back to Nova and West, a knot forming in my stomach as I imagine what will happen to them if word gets out.

Nodding, Tavish continues tapping away at the keys. “Names?”

I don’t respond right away, wrestling with myself.

Is getting the information worth the risk?

At my continued silence, he stops and spins the chair toward me. “I can’t exactly get you info if I don’t know what I’m looking for.” He says cautiously, picking up another piece of rope candy and taking a large bite.

I sigh heavily, leaning my head back and pinching the bridge of my nose. “I know.” I mutter. Lifting my head, I meet his brown eyes with mine. “Look, I know that you’re aware of all the ways I could get retribution if you breathe a word of this to anyone.” Tavish’s eyes widen just slightly but he doesn’t react otherwise to my threat.

Sighing again, my shoulders slump as I admit, “None of that will be nearly as bad as my pain if you do.” Holding his gaze, I do something I never thought I would do, not again in this lifetime at least.

Blowing out a heavy breath, I push aside all my pride as I beg, “Please promise me you won’t say anything. Please.”

Chapter 19

Nova

“He’s gone.”

West’s words knock the breath out of me. “What do you mean he’s gone?” I ask, tying the towel and pushing past him.

“I mean gone. Like he was here one minute and then gone the next.” West snaps, following behind me.

I look around the small space for another exit but there’s only the front door. “Where the fuck were you?” I demand, eyeing him suspiciously.

How well do I really know him now?

It’s West, you know him.

But do I? A lot has changed in three years…

Crossing my arms, I square my shoulders and level him with a glare. West looks at me, his expression incredulous. “You think I had something to do with him escaping?” He asks, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Well did you?” I counter.

Running a hand through his hair, he shakes his head. “No, of course I didn’t, Nova. Seriously. You think I…?” He begins pacing the room. “I was out there.” Jabbing a finger toward the door, he huffs and resumes his pacing. “Then I came in and he was just gone. Like a…” His voice trails off, eyes widening. “Like a ghost.” He whispers, whipping his head around and throwing his arms out.

“What is your damage, dude?” I ask, starting to seriously worry about his mental health.

Ignoring me, he spins in a circle, looking around the room. “He was so real though.” He mumbles.

Closing the distance between us, I place a hand on his arm, pulling his attention to me. “West.” I wait for his eyes to focus before continuing. “You’re scaring me. Are you okay?”

West stares at me blankly for several heartbeats before letting out an awkward chuckle. Rubbing his eyes, he mutters, “Man, I think I need some sleep or something. For a second there, I thought the dude was a legit ghost.” Dropping his hand, he grips my shoulders. “Nova, we’ve gotta get out of here. Before he comes back.”

I nod slowly, still eyeing him. I’m not entirely convinced his episode has passed and worry about where his head is at. “Yes.” I agree, grabbing his wrists and removing his hands from my shoulders. “Let’s look and see if there’s anything we can use to help escape. The guy has a whole weapons arsenal, he’s gotta have a flashlight or two around here somewhere.” I back away, keeping an eye on West as I slip into the bathroom to put on my clothes.

Once dressed, I decide to check the bedroom. Slipping into the room, I flick on the light and look around. My eyes land on the end table beside the bed. Careful not to knock over the dishes still stacked on top, I pull out the top drawer and rifle around, letting out a frustrated sigh when I don’t find anything. I push the drawer closed and search the next one. It proves to be just as useless.

Come on, there’s got to be something.

Rounding the bed, I open the top drawer of the other nightstand. There are a few items inside but nothing helpful. I’m about to close the drawer and move on when something catches my eye.

Tucked in the corner is a worn photograph, the edge peeking out from underneath the rest of the crap shoved inside. I carefully free the photo, running my finger down the creased image.

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