“We need to run tests on the new security system,” I point out. “I’m not bringing her back until we’re absolutely sure it’s impenetrable.”
He grunts faintly. “You’re still determined to keep her.” I notice it isn’t a question. More like a statement of something he wishes wasn’t true.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I want you to tell me this isn’t going to blow up in all our faces. I understand you changing your mind. I do.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“You know I trust you.”
“Then keep doing that,” I reply before ending the call. The time is going to come, and soon, when we have to meet with Gabriel, but I’m not in any hurry. There are much more important things currently weighing on my mind.
Such as the girl walking at the lake’s edge. She has probably walked miles by now, sometimes stopping to pick up stones which she tosses into the water, other times coming to a stop and staring out over the lake’s calm, reflective surface. Those are the times when it’s hardest to stay away. When I can almost feel everything churning in her head. Does she blame herself? Ask herself what’s happening next?
Does she feel as alone as she looks?
I can’t stay here another minute and only observe. My feet carry me to her, taking me down a well-worn path beneath a canopy of pine branches. Squirrels chase each other in the trees. A pair of what look like blue jays fly around each other, wings fluttering. I can’t tell if they’re fighting or playing. I also can’t remember the last time I paid attention to nature. I’ve never had much of an opportunity, and until now, there was no time to carve out of my schedule. I spent so long driven by one purpose and one purpose only. What happens next? Where do I go from here? It looks like I have plenty of contemplation to go through, myself.
She hears me coming, turning her head slightly to watch my approach from the corner of her eye. “Everything all right?” she asks. Her hair is loose, drifting around her shoulders, picked up by a cool breeze and turned into a cloud around her head. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, almost overwhelming.
As much as I want to soak in the sight of her, I break my silence. “Everything’s good. Nick said it all went according to plan.”
“Good.” She’s still closed off, arms wrapped around herself as she turns her face back toward the water.
While I wrestle with my frustration. All I want is her trust. No matter how many times I’ve sworn I have no intention of handing her over to Gabriel or to anyone else, she doesn’t believe me. I don’t know what it’s going to take. Time, I guess, but how much? Will she doubt me until the day I die? I don’t know how long I can stand being held at arm’s length.
Her shoulders rise and fall before she gives me her profile again. “Have you heard anything from her?”
Her. My already dark mood goes even darker. “No. She’s gone offline, completely.” Part of me thinks it would be better for everyone involved if Donovan had murdered Selina to get her out of the way once she stopped being useful to him. I don’t love the idea of her being out there somewhere, maybe plotting against me, maybe holding onto whatever grudge made her choose to switch sides. I still cringe at the thought. This was someone I trusted with my life more than once, and she turned around and threw all our years together in the garbage.
“How long have you known your team?” Aurora’s tone is curious, nothing more. “You never really talk about them.”
“We were kids together,” I explain, moving closer to the water’s edge until I’m standing by her side. The only place I want to be. She doesn’t go away, but there’s a sense of her closing off, tightening her grip on herself. “I’ve known Nick most of my life. He… he was in love with my sister, Laura. When I lost her, so did he.” I watch from the corner of my eye as Aurora’s brow wrinkles.
“He already came from a complicated situation with his family,” I continue. It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken aboutany of this to anyone—since I spent so much of my time with the team, there was no need to sit around and rehash our shared memories. “So did the others. Our situations weren’t exactly the same, but they were as alone in the world as I was. We found each other, looked out for each other. I wasn’t alone anymore.”
“Like a new family.”
“Absolutely. And until recently, I couldn’t imagine a reason not to trust all of them without thinking twice.” It stings, that admission, but it’s the truth. There’s something about opening up, sharing things I’ve kept locked away. Like a weight is lifting from my shoulders.
“Scary.” She’s whispering, and the sound is almost carried off by the breeze. “When you don’t know who to trust. Like walking around in the dark, holding your hands up in front of you to feel around. You don’t know what you’re going to end up hitting. It’s enough to make you want to stay still and not take a step forward at all.”
“But you can’t stay still. Life has to keep moving.”
“I know. That’s the bitch of the whole thing.”
I’m not used to hearing her talk like that. If anything, I’m glad to hear it. Her fierceness. Her intelligence. She’s playing it straight now. No hiding, no pretending. The walls between us are coming down slowly—too slowly, as far as I’m concerned. But they are coming down. She feels more comfortable being herself.
When she starts walking again, I walk with her. I’m careful to maintain a little space between us so she doesn’t feel crowded. All I want is for her to feel comfortable around me. That won’t happen by forcing her to be close.
I would tell myself we need to get to know each other all over again, but the truth is, we never got to know each other in the first place. It’s time to start from scratch.
“What are you thinking?”
She chuckles softly, kicking up a few stones with the toe of her sneaker. “Do you really want the answer to that?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” I’m a big boy. I can handle whatever it is.
