Page 80 of On a Fault Line

“Yes.”

He does understand. “I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t remember anything from the night before, but photos surfaced that allowed me to believe that she was in on the entire thing as well.”

“As one big setup?”

“Yes. They were both in on it and knew that the only way to fully be together and get him to move up in rank faster was to eliminate me.”

“But how?” I pry.

“A drug test that should have been completely random followed the next day. And I knew then that my best friend set me up over the officer we both liked. I got kicked out for drugs in my system, coupled with relations with my superior.”

“From the photos?”

“Yes.”

“Did she get kicked out too?”

He shakes his head. “It doesn’t always work that way and it doesn’t always make sense. But being drugged and not remembering destroyed me. Building my life around the military and then that falling through was a hard pill to swallow. And getting discharged after years of service to my country was devastating.”

It all makes sense. “This is why you sign contracts with your partners and are selective in who you allow into your life.”

“Yes. I’d rather have consent be in writing and not used against me later on.”

“I’m really sorry that happened to you. I can see why it would be very difficult to trust anyone after something as horrendous as that.”

“I never made a best friend since. The closest thing to friends I have are your brothers.”

“Thank you for sharing all of this with me.”

“I’m simply telling you so you can understand that we all have things in our pasts. Things we wish we could change… But it’s those things that sculpt our futures and help us to grow. Graham hired me long before you were drugged, but once my responsibilities shifted to finding your predator, it was clear that we were more connected from our pasts than I could have ever imagined. And that ability to find justice for you was what saved my life from the depressing downward spiral.”

A solo tear falls from my eye, and I quickly wipe it in hopes it doesn’t produce more. I wish Mark never kidnapped me, drugged me, and made me believe I was raped. I wish that I didn’t spend time in a mental institution fighting to come back to the family that loves me without a single condition. I wish that every stranger I pass on the street wasn’t tainted by the figurative dark glasses I can’t stop wearing.

But here I sit, in my car, with my bodyguard talking about life.

And slowly, this enchanting man beside me becomes a little more human, and I’ve become less bitter. Collins Stone sees me where I am and where I’ve been, because he has endured that pain of someone taking advantage of him for their own selfish gain.

And that is what suffering does for the human race. It bonds us together.

Ignoring Collins’s directive to go straight, I take a sharp left.

“Where are you going?”

“Just a little detour.”

“Pen…”

“Coll…”

Between Hillsboro and Portland, there are many scenic paths that I’ve taken on rides with my family growing up. Lazy Sunday road trips with Graham and Nic bickering nonstop from the back seat shaped my childhood. It’s no wonder why Momma and Dad needed to have me to balance out that testosterone rage.

It was probably a blessing as well that my brothers took up wrestling as their sport of choice—if just to blow off some steam. It might have kept them from massacring each other as well.

But even at a young age, I didn’t have a clear path. It wasn’t like I excelled in any particular type of sport or hobby. I tried out dancing and gymnastics, but nothing really interested me long enough to pursue it past just something to do to keep busy.

It was as if I just coasted through life, doing relatively well academically and staying under the radar socially. Well…until Mark Tanner took me under his wing and then violated my trust in all men thereafter.

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