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Actually, he considered it a weakness in every part of his life, which was why he so rarely shared his past with anyone. No one outside his friends from Quantico knew about his father. His high school friends, who had been around at the time of his father's disappearance had disappeared long ago. In his present-day life, discussion of his dad never came up. If someone asked, which was rare, he simply said his parents were divorced and his father was out of his life. They never pressed for more details.
But he and Callie had gotten very deep very fast. Maybe it was knowing what she was dealing with that had made it easier to open up. They'd both revealed parts of themselves that rarely saw the light. He didn't want to abuse the trust she'd put in him, and he hoped she felt the same way.
He thought she did. She was a good person. She wasn't just pretty on the outside; she had a beautiful spirit. She loved deeply, especially when it came to her mother. But that depth of love scared her. She'd admitted that last night. She couldn't handle anyone else needing her in such a profound way. It was too much, so she stayed away from relationships.
He stayed away from relationships, too, but not for the same reason. Well, maybe it was partly the same reason, he silently admitted. Although in his case, it was more about avoiding pain than need. The anger he'd felt when his father had abandoned them had been overpowering. He'd literally put his fist through a wall. And the grief he'd felt when Olivia had died had almost driven him mad.
Both events had happened a long time ago, and he had moved on. He had cared about other women. He had grown up. He had become his own man. But now the door to the past had been thrown wide open, and he was being forced to step through it.
"What are you waiting for—an invitation?" Wyatt asked, as he paddled over to him.
Wyatt Tanner had joined his task force a year ago, and while they'd been rivals during their Quantico days, now they were tight. He had great respect for Wyatt's undercover skills. He was a chameleon: he could go into any situation, any environment, and own it. It was a true talent. Although, that talent had almost gotten him killed a few times.
Beyond the job, he'd always felt a kinship to Wyatt, because Wyatt's father, an investment banker, had gotten himself and his clients and even his older son into serious financial trouble and legal trouble by playing fast and loose with the law. But unlike his father, Wyatt's dad had gone to jail, and his brother had as well. Wyatt had fortunately been too young to get caught up in the family business. He'd ended up working for the FBI, just as Flynn had.
He smiled into Wyatt's curious brown eyes. "I was thinking."
"That tends to happen when you're sitting on a surfboard. But did you come out here to think or to surf?"
"I came out here because it's where I go for answers."
"Find any?"
"Not yet. I thought you weren't supposed to be back until later today."
"Avery got an invitation to speak at UCLA tomorrow, and she wanted to take it, so we took an earlier flight and got in last night."
"Cutting the honeymoon short for work? That's no good."
"We had a great time. And two weeks was the longest I've ever gone without working in I can't remember how long." Wyatt paused. "I spoke to Savannah last night. She told me about your friend's death and the investigation. I'm happy to help. I have some time, unless you want me on something else?"
"Actually, I could use you on this. Beck and Jax are working a trafficking case that's taken them to San Francisco, Caitlyn had to go to DC for her brother's wedding, and Bree has been consulting on a kidnapping case. Savannah and Lucas have been helping me, but I could use your sharp eye as well. We're also coordinating with the police and Damon's office."
"Savannah said she and Lucas have been focusing on the judge's court cases while you've been concentrating on his connection to the art world."
"Which is where I think this investigation is headed. Arthur was a private collector, a patron of the arts, and hidden away in his home, I found a second phone and photos of paintings, at least one of which was stolen years ago."
"Where were they hidden?"
"Under a floorboard in the room belonging to his daughter who passed away years ago."
"So, not a place anyone would look."
"Only someone who knew that his daughter used to hide things there."
"Which was you. We're talking about the girl you lost."
"Yes. There's also the fact that Arthur asked me for help before he died. I hadn't spoken to him in over five years when I got a call out of the blue that he needed a favor. He told me he was in a delicate situation and that someone was watching him. That's, unfortunately, all I got before he was killed."
"His murder was dramatic and bold."
"It feels personal as well. How did you know I was out here, by the way?"
"I called you, and you didn't answer. Where else would you be on Sunday morning at seven a.m.?" Wyatt paused, his gaze thoughtful. "This case must be opening some old wounds, Flynn."
"I can handle it."
"Can you? The art world is tied to your father. The judge is tied to the tragic loss of your first love. That's a lot of the past for anyone to handle."