“Yeah.”
“The idea has merit. I’m willing to do a little digging into Carla.”
“Same.” He adjusted his position, settling his left hand atop the steering wheel, resting his right hand down. “Did anything your dad wrote about Carla in that poem surprise you?”
“No, not at all. That poem was textbook Dad. I knew he cared about Carla deeply. His relationships were all zero to sixty. Healwayscared deeply about the women in his life ... for a time.”
“For a time?”
“Never longer than eight months or so. After that, his ardor would cool.”
The headlights of an oncoming car highlighted the elegant, masculine lines of his profile. Pirate prince.
Wait. Was the car coming much, much too fast? She stiffened, her fingers curving against the upholstery.
“It’s okay,” he murmured reassuringly.
And, just like that, itwasokay. She relaxed. The car whizzed by, returning him to darkness.
Luke seemed very comfortable in the dark.
Which made perfect sense. Darkness had been wrapping its tentacles around him for almost twenty years. “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood ...” The famous verse whispered through her memory. “...but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”
Today was March first. Over the past two months, she’d spent a great deal of time with Luke, but she’d not made as much progress with him as she’d have liked. Then again, broken souls did not mend on established timetables. Some took more time than others.
Hehadimproved. He talked more easily. She’d seen him smile. He was spending time with his family, restoring his sister’s car. He interacted with Ben every time Ben volunteered at Furry Tails. He’d attended a Valentine’s party.
So, see? She needed to focus on the good.
Personally, selfishly, she wished he’d opened up to her more. Been willing to risk a dating relationship with her, even. But that was her issue. Just because he’d been unwilling to do that didn’t mean he wasn’t healing.
Two months of knowing him. Two months of working with him and tracking down clues with him. Numerous sessions of prayerful meditation. Countless prayers prayed for him. An untold amount of time thinking about him. They’d danced together at the Valentine’s party. Twice, they’d kissed.
The past two months had jolted her out of her status quo.They’d changed things for them both. But one thing remained exactly the same as the day she’d met Luke.
She staunchly refused to surrender Luke Dempsey to darkness.
Luke could no doubt defend himself. He’d spent years dealing in stolen cars. He’d been to prison. His body was roped with muscle.
Even so, protectiveness toward him was a storm inside her.
If given the chance, she’d fight for him, intercede for him. His history was paved with people who’d tried to defend him—his family, his friends. She might fail at defending him, too. But at least she’d go down swinging.
Just ten miles to go and they’d reach her house.
“Can we talk about guilt?” she asked.
“It’s not my favorite subject.”
“And yet guilt is the thing that’s defined the bulk of your life.” No adult, but especially no child, was equipped to bear the guilt of their sibling’s death. “You screwed up,” she said, “when you told your brother to go to the back of the line in El Salvador.”
He cut a shocked glance at her beneath hooded brows.
“I’m sure everyone who’s talked to you about this has tried to tell you that what happened to Ethan wasn’t your fault, but they were wasting their breath. You were there. You lived it. And you’ll never accept that it wasn’t your fault.”
“That’s true,” he said.
“After Chase died, I dealt with a lot of guilt.”
