Her fist comes down hard on the desk. “I KNEW IT!”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Okay, well maybe I didn’t know they were turning you into a fucking shish kabob, but I knew your story about needing to clear your head was some bullshit.” She leans back in her seat, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “I’m so proud of you right now.”
“Umm, thank you?”
“I’m serious, Selene. You managed to find and hold on to something real and amazing in the midst of a storm that was meant to destroy you. Not many people would have been able to hold their hearts open for a love like that after what Aubrey did to you.”
“I guess you’re right.” I sigh. “I don’t feel like I am holding on to them, though. I feel like we lose our grip on each other every day that passes with us living under Aubrey’s thumb.”
The lightness of the moment has faded, and now we’re back in the somber space we started in. Monique makes the shift effortlessly.
“That’s why you’re investigating Sutton’s death. To get away from Aubrey.”
“Yes, but I don’t know enough about anything, including whether he and Sutton were still together at the time of her death.”
“You could always ask them,” Monique suggests, hooking a thumb over her shoulder at the TV which is now teasing a special featuring Sutton’s parents, Peter and Janice Ellsworth, that will be airing later tonight. Janice is crying, and her husband’s arm is wrapped around her shoulder. She’s not looking at the camera, but he is. His face red as he stares into the camera.
“I just hate that my baby girl will only be remembered as his mistress,” he says.
The clip ends a few seconds after that, returning back to the news anchor who instructs viewers to tune in at nine tonightfor the full story. I think it’s interesting that Peter Ellsworth is concerned about the world remembering his daughter as Aubrey’s mistress when I’m much more interested in making sure they know she was also his victim.
11
CAL
It doesn’t happen often.
Beck waking up screaming.
The nightmares are frequent, I know that, but the broken, sorrowful cries that come from deep within his soul and rip apart the air are so rare they snatch me from the depths of unconsciousness and immediately send me reaching for my gun.
Tonight is no different.
The cold metal of my piece greets my warm palm before I’ve even really opened my eyes, and I’m on my feet in an instant, back to the wall, bleary eyes scanning the dark room only to find there is no threat. Not a physical one at least. My chest is heaving with unspent adrenaline as I catch sight of Beck’s writhing form on the bed. His face is a twisted ball of pain, a clear indication of the internal war he’s fighting. I return my weapon back to its rightful place, knowing neither it nor I will be of any assistance.
All I can do is wait.
For the dream to end. For the pain to stop.
With a sigh, I wipe the sleep from my eye and turn on the lamp by my bedside, hoping the soft light will start the process of waking Beck up. I know from experience that trying to wakehim up on my own won’t do either of us any good, so I sit on the edge of the bed and slowly peel the covers away from his body. He shivers, turning toward me and the light even though he’s still asleep.
A whimper passes through his trembling lips as he claws at the sheets.
“Cameron.”
My heart clenches. Dreams about his son are the most painful to witness. He always cries for him the longest, tears for a tarnished past and a stolen future streaming down his cheeks and making me wish for Selene because she’s more familiar with this strand of grief than I could ever be. I’ve never fathered a child, never brought a life into this world only to have to go through it without the light of the young soul I was supposed to nurture and protect, so everything I say in hopes of comforting Beck feels empty when it comes to Cameron.
Selene’s wouldn’t though.
There would be a weight to her reassurances, a depth to her promises of brighter days, a sad but genuine understanding conveyed in every touch, kiss and hug.
Tears born of inadequacy and longing blur my vision as impatience rises in my chest. I want Selene. I need her. We both do. Everything about who Beck and I are and how we work is made better by her presence, and I’m tired of living without her. Tired of not being able to hold her or love her and get those things back in return.
Beck jolts awake, his lips parted on a scream that doesn’t meet the air as he sits up. I watch him scan the room for threats and wait for him to realize there’s no one here but us.
“You’re safe,” I whisper, keeping my voice soft to avoid startling him.
