Page 51 of Give Me Redemption

“Yeah, kinda…”

She nods and taps her pen. “So, what are your concerns?”

“That he’s going to hate me when this is all over. I’m going to take down his brother and possibly put him in prison. I would hate me.”

“Did you strictly start dating him to get to his brother?”

“No. He asked me out for a drink, and I agreed, but before I met up with him, I found out who he was. And then it was too late.”

“You could have canceled the date,” she says, crossing her leg over the other.

“Part of me wishes I would have.” I shake my head and rub my face. “I know the facts, but I didn’t know I would really start liking him. I saw an opportunity. I saw a way to do my job, and I took it.”

She nods and gives me a look. “So I think you already know what is going to happen here.”

I don’t want to hear it out loud. I know I have to put my feelings to the side, even though this is the only time in my life I’ve ever felt something more for a man. I think like a guy when it comes to relationships. I don’t know if it’s because I have other things to focus on, like finding Chloe, or if I was just made this way.

Guys come and go, but my job, my career, that stays. That’s the one thing I know how to do. I find the bad people. I get them out of society, and I return broken children back to their homes.

Except for one.

I still haven’t found the one.

“You are a workaholic. I think we can both agree with that. Your job is your life, and I don’t think you’re going to let feelings stop you from continuing your mission. Even if it ends badly for you in the end. This guy you like, if he likes you, he’ll understand why you did what you did. If he doesn’t, then you’ll still have the one thing you value most. Your career.”

She just told me exactly what I already thought.

Why am I doing this?

“Yeah,” I say, looking at my watch. “I gotta go. Working on a big case.”

She shakes her head. “You know you’re never going to get better until you talk about what actually happened?”

I look over at her bookshelf, her little whatnots and bookends. Why when tragedy happens a person feels…I don’t have a better word, so left out is all I got.

I remember watching a documentary some years ago about the attacks on 9/11. This man was hanging at the fire department that day, just filming the everyday life of a rookie fireman. And before they knew it, a plane crashed into the North Twin Tower. After the tower went down and firemen were rushing back to the firehouse, with looks on their faces that could only be described as confusing, relief to still be alive, a few of them kept saying, “Why did I make it out? Why am I the one who’s still alive?”

It’s almost a feeling of guilt.

I guess that’s what I’m feeling right now. Guilty.

Why did I not get taken?

Why have I been given the opportunity to keep living every day and she’s stuck somewhere in hell?

It makes me angry.

Maybe I could have handled it better. Maybe I could have gotten out sooner and been home already. She was so young. She didn’t get a chance to learn how to defend herself.

No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I can’t shake this heavy feeling in my gut.

I’m here.

She isn’t.

I look back at Cathy. “What actually happened is a psychopath hunted down someone I love and took her. That’s what happened.”

“I know. But you haven’t told me how you’ve dealt with that. You haven’t told me how it was later for you.”

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