Page 103 of Perfect Order

I’m spinning up Jose Feliciano and the Waitresses. Hell, who am I kidding. I’m spinning up the booze.

Happy Christmas to everyone!

— Viego Martinez, Celebrity Blogger

There might be a star on the tree, but it’s not as bright as the lights in her hair.

The moon shines, highlighting the midnight sky, but it just reminds me of her eyes twinkling up at me.

Every tinkle of glass reminds me of those first moment she laughed. “I’d give anything to hear that again,” I whisper in the cold Oklahoma night.

The fierceness in her eyes as she defended her choice to become the shadow operative,Q?za.

The hope she tried disguise when we talked about a future—a future I blew up with brutal words and distrust.Beyond trust.The words in her letter haunt me. The one thing she asked of me, and I didn’t give it to her.

Now, on a night where a single star is supposed to represent blessings, the nightmares of Gene’s face have been replaced by the hurt brutally accepted by Leanne. And I’ve quickly learned waking up—both physically and psychologically—hasn’t dragged me from this nightmare.

Where is she?

“I don’t want anything more than for her to be safe. Please, God, let her be safe.” I stand on the porch for a few more moments before giving up on waiting for an answer and heading inside into the bedlam of my sister’s family.

JANUARY

Have you ever watched something so real you felt like you were transported in time? That was me tonight atThe Golden Lady. Evangeline Brogan made me feel like I was Adele Bloch-Bauer. I still have chills and a wad of used tissues in my bag.

It’s a must-see.

— Moore You Want

I wake with the whisper of his name on my lips. “Kane.”

I curl my knees up to my chest. Remembering.

The first moment we crashed into each other on the street. Being unable to forget his ocean-colored eyes. Passively searching for them. Him.

Lee’s death. Awash in darkness. Broken. My body starts to shudder under the force of emotion I know I’ll never recover from.

Fear. Agony. Blame. My fault. Knowing it, hearing it. And then, like a lifeline, Kane typed my name in that crucial moment of emotional exhaustion when I needed to know someone was there.

My realization Kane was part of the Marine unit that almost caused me to walk away all those years ago. That bond of trust snapping into place, regret flooding through me when I recall the words I lashed out at him when he’s managed to stay standing.

Like a movie reel, the moments ping and flicker: nosing around the Hudson network to find he had joined the ranks of people searching for answers. Our banter. The first time I weakened enough to turn on my microphone.

I should have known then. I was falling.

Then there was the night he ordered me to turn on the camera. And I was rewarded with his first smile at me. “There you are.” As if he’d been waiting for me.

Just me.

The shock. Then the acceptance.

The meant to be.

Kane.

I lay on my cot, running every moment together over and over.

The way he laughed.