Page 35 of Girl Lost
Unbidden, a memory surfaced. Luna, fifteen and fierce. Her dark hair wild in the summer breeze. They were on the beach. Her laughter rang out, pure and unguarded, as he chased her through the surf. He’d caught her then, pulled her close, their laughter dyingas their lips met for the first time. Sweet. Innocent. A promise of forever.
“I loved her, B ... I loved her, and I messed it up.” He took a slow, measured breath. “She was fire, and I was ... well, I was trying not to be gasoline. She challenged me. Pushed me to be better. And for a while ... I was.”
Blade sighed. “We were kids. Dumb kids. We all made mistakes.”
“Yeah, but my mistakes cost us everything. Our relationship, our...” He trailed off, unable to say it. Their child. The one they’d given up, the decision that had torn them apart.
The confession felt like ripping open an old wound. He closed his eyes, afraid of what Pandora’s box he’d just opened in front of his friend.
“Have you talked to her? Really talked, I mean?”
Corbin snorted. “Yeah, right. She can barely look at me without wanting to bolt.”
“Can you blame her? You both went through something traumatic. And instead of facing it together, you pushed her away.”
The truth of Blade’s words stung, but he couldn’t deny them. He’d been terrified, overwhelmed by the idea of becoming a husband and father. Afraid he’d become just like his own dad one day. So he’d done what he thought was best. Stepped back. Told Luna he loved her but they weren’t ready—he wasn’t ready to marry her and start a family. He’d thought he was being mature by breaking up with her and agreeing to terminate his parental rights. By keeping his distance during the pregnancy so they wouldn’t get attached to a child they wouldn’t raise. Back then it seemed responsible even. But all he’d done was drive her away forever.
“I tried to apologize.” The words sounded hollow even to his own ears. “After the fire. She just ... walked away.”
“Look, what I know about women wouldn’t fill a thimble, but I do know one apology isn’t going to fix years of hurt. You need to give her time. And space.”
“But how am I supposed to do that when, thanks to her, we’restuck as partners? When every time I see her, all I want to do is...” How could he articulate the mess of emotions Luna stirred in him?
“Is what? Make things right? Or pick up where you left off?” He pictured Blade’s penetrating gaze, seeing right through him, as always.
He ran a hand over his face, suddenly feeling every one of his years. “I don’t know. I just ... I don’t know.”
“Well, figure it out.” There was a scratching noise and muffled words like Blade had covered his phone. “I gotta go. Your contact came through with info on DeLuca. I’ll catch you up after we talk.”
“Thanks.” Corbin disconnected and dropped his phone on his desk. He’d almost forgotten about DeLuca, because, if he were honest, he couldn’t see anything coming from it. There was ongoing surveillance that clocked the man’s every move.
He closed his eyes and pressed his palms to his forehead. A dull pain throbbed in his temples. Tension headache, or mild concussion. Perfect.
The door creaked. His eyes snapped open.
“Corbin?” A gentle rap of a knuckle.
Luna stood in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob. She’d dressed simple, professional. Damp hair curled around her shoulders, a few ends clinging to the fabric of her shirt. He’d never noticed her long eyelashes before. Or the contour of her sunkissed cheekbones. He did know those lips though. The way the upper one had that tiny divot that looked like the M-shaped seagulls he’d drawn as a kid.
He caught himself. Glanced down. Waved her in. “Looks like you found me.”
“Sorry I’m late.” She pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Paperwork.” She gestured to a photo identification card clipped to the small pocket on her shirt. A colored strip on the side signified her clearance as a special consultant. Weapon carry permissions.
“That call from your boss must have been impressive. I’ve never seen them move that fast.”
“You know the federal government. Lightning fast.” She pressed her lips together in a tightly coiled smile. “What are you doing?”
“Just ... trying to make sense of this mess.” He busied himself by thumbing through the stacked files, searching for the one full of handwritten notes he’d scratched out during countless interviews. “It won’t take long to run you through what I have on Carlie. Truth is ... it’s not much. I could use a fresh perspective.”
“I didn’t know you drank.”
He glanced up to see her eyeing the glass of whiskey still sitting on his desk. “I don’t, actually.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“It’s just...” He exhaled. “Just something I do. To prove to myself that I don’t need it. That I’m in control.”
“You only have one?”
