Page 37 of Girl Lost
If only he could close the gap. Hold her. Make sure she was really there. But he held back. The wall. Years of hurt. He was terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing. Afraid she’d bolt again.
She drew back from his touch and opened her eyes. “Wow. I didn’t come here to preach at you, but I must say. This was better. So much better than ‘I’m sorry’ by the curb of a burning house.” She gathered the hair around her shoulders and used the movement to put more distance between them.
He stopped himself from reaching for her. She hadn’t rejected him. Hadn’t walked away. It was a start. Maybe he wasn’t as broken as he imagined. Luna had only been back a few hours, and she’d already seen something in him that he hadn’t seen in himself. She’d said he was strong. Good.
Nothing like his father.
But one thing was for sure. He had to stop walking on eggshells and do his job.
While he still had one.
13
THE PALE LIGHT OF DAWNseeped through thecheap hotel blinds. How was this her life? She’dspent years running,hiding,building a cover story for herself, never imagining she’d end up back here. Not with Corbin. Not like this. But now, here they were. Partners.
Between the burn on her ankle pulsing with an insistent pain and her thoughts cycling through the image of Stryker being kidnapped, she hadn’t slept well. The drab hotel room, the uncomfortable bed, the paper-thin walls amplifying every cough and footstep in the hallway, hadn’t helped either. All night she couldn’t shake the feeling that she should be doing more. That time was running out. Each passing hour, a grain of sand slipping through the hourglass of Stryker’s life.
Fresh from her shower, Luna perched on the edge of the tub and carefully peeled back the dressing on her ankle. The angry red flesh underneath dragged her back to the fire. Corbin’s hands on her skin. Smothering the flames. He’d saved her.
A sting shot up her leg as she dabbed antibiotic ointment on the burn, and she hissed through her teeth. She rewrapped the injury with clean gauze and stood, testing her weight. Still painful, but manageable.
Brushing her teeth, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. No longer a CIA operative, but still a phony. How could she tell Corbin that forgiveness wasn’t about deserving but about grace all while she clutched her own resentment like a security blanket? The irony. Here she stood, advising him to do exactly what she refused to do herself.
And what about her friends? She’d disappeared without a trace, without explanation. If she expected Harlee and the others to forgive her abandonment, shouldn’t she be willing to extend that same grace to Corbin?
Physician,heal thyself.
The logic was simple, the execution impossibly difficult. Maybe it was time to start trying to do things God’s way instead of her own.
Her stomach growled. Caffeine. She needed caffeine, but one glance at the crusty hotel coffee maker with its suspicious stains sent her reaching for her keys instead.
She arrived at Corbin’s office, greeted by the blessed scent of coffee, and poured herself a cup before settling at Corbin’s desk. Last night she’d left him asleep at the conference table, head resting on folded arms. If she were honest, the raw vulnerability in his eyes had shaken her more than she cared to admit.
“Morning,” Corbin said. He looked tired, his shoulders stiff beneath his suit jacket, a dark bruise blooming on his cheekbone. The remnants of the fire etched onto his skin.
“Coffee’s ready,” she said.
“Thanks.” He poured himself a cup, wincing slightly as he reached for the sugar.
She studied him, stirring his coffee. He was the same, but different now. Older, obviously. The lines around his eyes, the slight gray at his temples, they suited him. He had a confidence now, an assurance in his movements that hadn’t been there before. Even more good-looking than he’d been back then. If that was even possible.
She’d always seen the good in him, even then, when he was lost,angry, fighting his own demons. Yesterday, she’d seen it again. After all she’d put him through, he still cared.
Maybe she should have forgiven him a long time ago.
And what about Trinity?
The girl Stryker wouldn’t give up on. The one Liv had said looked so much like her. Who ran from her problems just like Luna had.
Was it possible? Could Trinity be their daughter?
Mercy, the implications made her head spin.
Should she tell Corbin? No, she couldn’t. Not until she had more evidence. Not with everything else he was dealing with.
He turned. Caught her staring. “About last night...”
“Let’s focus. We need to find Carlie. For her sake. For her family’s sake. Then, Stryker.” She busied herself organizing the files, avoiding his eyes.
