Page 54 of Cyclone

He grinned, brushing his thumb along my jaw.

“You better. Otherwise, you're gonna drive yourself crazy worrying about me.”

I laughed, smacking his chest lightly.

“You’re not that special.”

He kissed me, slow and deep and lingering, before grabbing his bag and heading for the door.

Right before he stepped out, he turned back, his smile soft and full of something. “I love you, Jude.”

Simple. Raw. No fear.

“I’ll be home soon.”

And then he was gone.

The house felt too quiet after he left.

Too empty.

The ache of missing him settled deep and sharp.

I cleaned the kitchen.

Did laundry.

Organized the closet.

And still... the minutes crawled.

By the next morning,I knew I couldn't just sit here and wait for him to return.

I needed a life.

I neededpurpose.

I remembered the card I tucked into the back pocket of my jeans — the one his friend Owen had handed me at the bonfire, almost like a joke.

“Call me if you get bored,” he’d said with a wink.

“We always need smart people around here.”

I had taken it out and put it in the dresser door that I claimed as mine. I found it and glanced at it. Owen Security & Investigations.

Private Investigators.

Surveillance. Protection.

It wasn't just busy work.

It was meaningful.

It was a way to take everything I'd lived through — everything I'd survived — and use it for something good. Maybe I could help someone who needed me.

Before I could overthink it, I grabbed my phone and punched in the number.

It rang twice before someone answered.

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