She wanted to ask him what that meant, but the pain in his voice had stopped her. Instead, they’d spent the three-hour drive getting to know one another. Army stories, favorite books and movies, tales from childhood. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed like this, and she didn’t want it to end. Could they keep driving? Run away and pretend they had no other obligations but each other?
Focus. Laura and Micah need you.
“Take the next exit,” Dana said. “Klockner Road. Follow that for a mile and it’s the big gray apartment building on the right.” Staring out the window, she chewed on her lower lip, something she hadn’t done in years—at least not regularly. “What happens now?”
“Now?” As they coasted to a stop at a light, Terry reached over and rested his hand on her thigh. “What do you mean…’now’?”
“It’s a really small place. And you can’t tell me your friend is going to be able to find Micah overnight.”
He chuckled. “Are you askin’ me if I’m goin’ to move in? No, sweetheart. Not unless you asked me to. I need to see—and make copies of—all the info you have about Micah. If there’s a lot, I’ll find a hotel room in town. Otherwise, I should be able to catch a flight back to Boston late tonight.”
Despite her nerves, Dana didn’t want him to leave. Boston wasn’t that far. A five-hour drive, maybe? But she’d found him again only last night and wasn’t ready to let him go.
“How long do you think…for your friend to…?”
“To find the trafficking ring that has him?” Terry shook his head, another intersection passing by outside the window. “Could be a day, could be a month.”
“A month?” Her heart leapt into her throat and she fought back tears.
Terry pulled into the apartment building’s parking garage, found an empty spot, and shut off the engine before turning and taking her hands. “Dana, look at me.” She found reassurance, strength, and even hope in his eyes. “We will get him back. But these traffickers make a fuckton of money. That buys a layer of protection that takes time to unravel. My friend Xavier? He and his team run ops all over the world. X knows his shit. He’ll find Micah, and he’ll make sure everyone makes it out of there—wherever there is—alive and safe. But give him time to work.”
The strength of his grip—along with his tone—calmed her in ways she hadn’t known she’d needed. “I’m sorry. It’s been so long since anyone gave us hope, I don’t know how to react.” Dana stared up at the row of third floor windows. “Laura…she’s fragile. One of the private investigators told her Micah would be long past saving. ‘Even if you get your son back, he won’t be your son anymore.’”
Terry swore under his breath. “After Micah’s back home, give me that asshole’s name and I’ll pay him a visit. No one has the right to destroy a mother’s hope.”
Lunging across the center console, Dana wrapped her arms around him. It didn’t matter that she didn’t deserve him. That she wasn’t sure what would happen between them after he brought Micah home. That they were both damaged and scarred inside and out. She wasn’t alone anymore.
8
Terry
Dana led him up the stairs to the third floor. After the first flight, she stopped on the landing. “Shit. I didn’t think…”
“I can handle stairs, sweetheart. Ran the Boston Marathon last year. I got lucky. No complications in recovery, and my sister set up a fundraising campaign to help me pay for a better prosthetic than my insurance wanted to cover.”
In truth, his thigh ached today. The night on the couch hadn’t done his body any favors, but he hadn’t lied. Stairs didn’t trouble him.
“Laura?” Dana called, pushing through the apartment door. “Are you decent?”
The small space didn’t look like a home. Three bulletin boards covered the far wall, filled with photos of Micah, Post-its with hastily scrawled bits of information, and police reports. A couch, small dining table, and bookshelf were the only other items in the room.
Laura—wearing a pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt—emerged from what appeared to be the only bedroom. “Thank God you’re back,” she said, her voice scratchy as she embraced her sister. “The landlord came by this morning before I woke up. I didn’t get a chance to give him the check.”
“I’ll drop it off later. This is Terry Owens,” Dana said, stepping back so Terry could offer Laura his hand.
“It’s a pleasure, ma’am.”
“Terry…Owens? Wait.” Laura turned to Dana. “This is the guy. The guy.”
Huh? Terry’s brows arched and Dana shot Laura a look that could kill.
“Yes,” she said finally. “He was at the fundraiser last night. He works for Rescue International. And…he’s going to try to help find Micah.”
Laura’s eyes watered, and she launched herself at Terry, wrapping her arms around him and holding on tight. She was frail, so thin he could feel her ribs as he patted her back gently.
“I won’t make you any promises, ma’am. Dana told me about some of the less reputable private investigators who’ve sold you the world and delivered nothin’. But the men I work with? They’re the best at what they do, and they don’t give up.”
Pulling away, Laura swiped at her cheeks. “Dana talked about you for months after she came home. Whenever she needed to distract me.”
