Page 8 of Tracing Her Stolen Identity
“Oh, I get it now,” she said slowly, her head nodding as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Get what?”
“Get why you won’t admit you have PTSD or talk to anyone about the accident. At least, I assume you don’t, because you probably don’t want the guys at Secure One to know, either. If they knew, they might tell you it wasn’t your fault. It makes it harder for you to keep punishing yourself for my decisions whenever someone tells you that.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
Her snort was loud in the silent room. “Only if you speak a language other than English. I’ve spent, what?” She checked the watch on her wrist before glancing back at him. “A hair over six hours with you and already figured out that your big, bad, tough cybersecurity persona is an act. See, you try to temper the fact that you still blame yourself for me being in the chair with aloofness and fake aggravation, but your tells give you away. You can’t look me in the eye. You can’t touch my wheelchair without grimacing. You crack sarcastic comments to come off as uncaring when the truth is just the opposite.”
“Okay, I care!” he exclaimed, unsure what she wanted him to say or do. When she took his hands in hers again, he was sure that wasn’t it. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Sky. I care you’re sitting in that wheelchair because I didn’t catch you. There. Is that what you needed to hear? Can we move on now?”
“No. We can’t move on until you repeat after me.” His huff did nothing to stop her. “Skylar uses a wheelchair.” She paused and waited for him to repeat the words.
A hard eye roll escaped, but he answered. “Skylar uses a wheelchair.”
“Because she broke her back during an accident that injured several members of her high school cheer team.”
“Because she broke her back during an accident that injured several members of her high school cheer team.”
“I couldn’t have caught her from the ground with a broken wrist.”
“I couldn’t have caught her from the ground with a…no, wait,” he said, rubbing his left wrist absently.
Rather than let him speak, she took his face in her hands. “Close your eyes. Let yourself see those last fewmoments of that night. You know I’m right, Land. You know none of us stood a chance.”
This time, he met her gaze and held it. “I don’t need to let myself see those last few moments. I see them every time I close my eyes. Yes, logically, I know none of us stood a chance that night. Emotionally, it is another story.”
“And that’s PTSD by definition, Reece. We can’t make that part of it disappear, but I also can’t sit here and watch you beat yourself up every second we’re together. The only thing I can do is help you see that this wasn’t your fault. Not when I knew the risk and agreed to it when I walked onto the field. Every game. Every practice. Every time I asked my body to do something that defied gravity, this was always a possibility,” she said, motioning at the chair.
“I know that, too,” he agreed, still holding her gaze.
“You were always my protector, Land. I loved you for it, but we’re not little kids anymore.”
“It looks to me like you still need my protection.” He lifted his brow to challenge her, hoping she’d take the bait and get fired up. Anything to get her to stop forcing him to confront what he’d kept buried for fourteen years.
“I absolutely do,” she agreed. Reece’s shoulders deflated, knowing she wouldn’t distance herself from him. “I’m scared to death, but I know if we can get past this and work together again, you’ll protect me just like you used to. I’ve always trusted you, Reece, including that night in October when you held my hand and promised me everything would be okay even when I couldn’t feel my legs. You were right that night. I’m okay. We’re okay. Okay?”
“That’s a lot of okays,” he said, forcing back the emotion welling in his chest when she smiled that smile he hadlived for back in the day. “I’ll do my best to remember that we’re both okay, the present situation notwithstanding.”
“That’s all I can ask for,” she said, giving his hand one last squeeze before she backed up her chair. “Now, let’s find this Binate so I can get my life back.”
“Before we call Mina, I want to run down the situation with you so we’re on the same page when we call in.”
“I’m not even reading the same book,” she said with a frown. “I have no idea why this has happened.”
He held his hands up to calm her. “What I mean is, I want to give you all the facts so that you’re not surprised by anything Mina might say.”
There was no doubt Mina would bring up things she didn’t want to hear about, and he wanted to give her the chance to ask questions when they weren’t on camera. He ran down everything he knew, starting with the vandalism of the art galleries and ending with how, as of two days ago, she’d still existed in the world.
“Wait, you’re saying there’s an actual warrant out for my arrest and the cops didn’t try to arrest me? That doesn’t make sense. I’m not hard to find.”
“That’s what I’m saying. I also agree with you, which is why I think, more than anything, it was a way to drag your name through the mud for a hot second before they shut everything down to keep the cops from coming for you. You can’t come for someone who doesn’t exist.”
Skylar waved her hand in the air. “Doesn’t make sense. I do exist! The cops in Duluth know me, Reece. They know where I live.”
He continued once he grasped her hand and lowered it to her lap. “I know you exist, and so does the Duluth PD. What I mean is the persona they were trying to sell thecops. The person-of-interest alert came out of Minneapolis. It would get filtered to Duluth and they would follow up. The police would come to your house and ask you to ride with them to the station to chat.”
“They wouldn’t because they know me,” she said, motioning at the chair.
