CHAPTER TEN
2006
I woke up to an empty bed. On the sheet next to me, Hayden’s body was still faintly imprinted. I ran my fingers over the cold fabric, not hearing any movement around the house. I didn’t remember falling asleep, but my brain must have shut off at some point. I hadn’t told Hayden half of what I’d planned, but that must have been enough to make him sneak out. I was sure he’d left a note or a text, but I wasn’t in the mood to check.
I pushed myself out of bed, put on boxers and a shirt, then went to brush my teeth. My stomach growled, reminding me I’d skipped dinner. I entered the kitchen, the sunlight making me squint. I kept telling myself to buy curtains, but I never did.
The food Hayden had brought was still in the fridge, but I wasn’t going to eat Chinese so early. Our wine glasses were still on the living room table. I hadn’t yet fully processed last night, but I knew I felt no regrets. Whatever happened next, I’d needed that.
I was about to make myself a salad when I noticed the sound of approaching footsteps. I picked up a knife and turned around. Was the front door even locked? Before I could check, the door opened, and Hayden walked in shirtless, sunlight dancing on the sweat on his skin.
“Good morning. What’s up with the knife?” He closed the door behind him and wiped his brow.
I put the knife on the counter, my cheeks warm with embarrassment. Of course he’d gone running; he always used to do that when he slept over.
He came closer, his sweat dripping through the dark hairs on his chest, down to his flat and smooth stomach. “Hope it’s okay that I borrowed a pair of your shorts.” He crossed his arms. “Why are you looking at me funny?”
“What? Nothing. I just thought you left.”
He frowned. “Without saying goodbye? You know me better than that.” He glanced at the kitchen counter. “I can help you fix breakfast, but I can also leave if you prefer some privacy—I didn’t even ask if I could spend the night.”
“What? No, I don’t want you to leave.”
“Then it’s high time you got your butt over here and kissed me, isn’t it?”
I closed the distance between us and kissed him hard, his sweat soaking into my shirt. He grabbed the back of my head and squeezed me closer, his scent manly, raw, and familiar.
He stopped the kiss and held my face. “I know that last night wasn’t easy on you, but I appreciate what you’ve told me. When you’re ready to share more, I’ll listen.”
I was grateful that he didn’t pressure me. “Okay.”
“You’ve mentioned that the people who worked there were ex-convicts.”
“Yes, most of them.”
“Then they should have records and mugshots that we can find.”
“Mugshots? I’m not even sure I knew their real names.”
“Do you know any of their crimes?”
“Just Bo’s. He was in for rape.”
“In which state?”
“I don’t know, but I think he grew up in California.”
He stroked his chin. “And you met him in ‘92, right? How old did he look to you?”
“I think he was in his early thirties back then.”
“Then we can assume he was arrested in the mid-‘80s.”
I wondered if that was what detectives did—assumed things and hoped for the best.
“I’m fine looking at mugshots,” I said, hoping that was true, “but won’t people at the station get suspicious?”
“Good point. I’ll need to find the right time to bring you. I’ll keep you updated.”
