Garrett braced his hands on the sink, water dripping from his hair as he stared at his reflection. Steam still curled around the bathroom, thick enough that it blurred the edges of his face. The shower had been supposed to clear his head, but all it had done was remind him of how tangled up everything was now.
Sex with Isla.
It complicated the hell out of things, yet somehow it made everything right at the same time. His body still hummed with the memory of her touch, the burn of her mouth. And underneath all of that was the nagging reminder that nothing in their world was clear.
Harris was still missing. Someone was out there gunning for them. A killer who had already tried to pin them down with bullets and who would not hesitate to take another shot.
Garrett hated the uncertainty. Hated not knowing where the next attack would come from or if they’d be ready for it. He hated even more that Isla was caught in the middle of it with him.
“Stop glaring at yourself,” she said from behind him. Her voice was light, teasing, the exact opposite of the storm in his head. He turned and found her leaning against the doorframe,wrapped in one of his towels that nearly swallowed her whole. Her damp hair clung in dark streaks around her cheeks.
“You’ve got that same look you get when the Longhorns lose a game,” she went on, lifting a brow. “And I don’t mean a close game. I mean the kind of game where the marching band should just pack up at halftime and go home.”
Despite himself, a grunt of amusement escaped him. “That bad, huh?”
“Worse,” she said with mock severity, her eyes sparking. “If you keep it up, I’ll have to dig out a pom-pom and do a cheer to get you out of your funk. And trust me, you don’t want to see that.”
The corner of his mouth tugged upward. Tension eased, just a little, though the weight of what waited outside this room still pressed down hard.
Garrett brushed his mouth over Isla’s, soft but insistent, only to hear the low rumble of her stomach. He chuckled. “That wasn’t me.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Food. I guess I need it.”
“Guess you do,” he said, still smiling as they dressed and started toward the kitchen. He was thinking about what to scrounge up when Isla’s phone lit up. She frowned at the screen.
“Trudy,” she murmured and swiped to answer. She put it on speaker.
“Isla?” Trudy’s voice was thin, anxious.
“I’m here,” Isla assured her. “Garrett’s here, too.”
“I’ve been hearing things,” Trudy blurted. “The nurses talk, you know. They said you found Harris. That you found him and lost him again. Is it true?”
Garrett exhaled, wishing like hell she hadn’t learned it this way. “It’s true,” he said. “We found him. We even spoke to him. But before we could get anywhere, someone spooked him. He ran.”
Silence followed before Trudy’s sharp breath cut through. “Oh God. After all these years. You saw him?”
“Yes,” Isla verified, her own voice breaking just a little. “It was him. He’s alive, Trudy.”
“But gone again,” Trudy muttered. Grief and worry bled into every word. “I can’t… I can’t believe this. Who would do this to him?”
“We’ll find him,” Garrett told her, and he hoped it was a promise he could keep. “Isla and I are on our way over to the hospital now.” And he got Isla’s immediate nod of agreement.
“No,” Trudy was quick to say. “Please, not tonight. I don’t want to drag you out, not when it’s about to storm. Plus, I need time. Alone. I need to… process.”
Garrett met Isla’s eyes. He didn’t like the idea of leaving Trudy alone, not when she was this upset, but he respected her enough to listen.
“All right,” he finally agreed. “But first thing in the morning, Isla and I will be there.”
“Yes,” Isla added softly. “First thing. We’ll come by then.”
Garrett met Isla’s eyes, ready to push back against Trudy’s plea for space, but Trudy spoke again before he could.
“I love you both,” Trudy added, her voice catching. “Promise me you’ll watch out for each other.”
“We promise,” Isla replied.
Garrett added, “Always.”
