Page 21 of Reckless
“You had three Marines raise you?”
“Pretty much.”
“I bet you were a little hellion as a kid.”
“I was an angel…” I give her a look. “Most of the time,” she amends. “I can’t help it. I grew up with three brothers. There was no hope for me.”
“What made you leave your family?” I ask, thinking of the phone call I overheard. “You seem like you’d be really close.”
At this, she turns her gaze back through the windshield, even though the apartment complex parking lot is a ghost town. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’m just making conversation.”
She finishes chewing and takes a swig from her Coke. “No, it’s okay. It’s a normal question to ask, and I should be able to answer. The truth is, I was engaged.” At my shocked expression, she laughs a little. “Yeah, I know. Who’d put up with me, right?”
“That isn’t what I meant. I’m just surprised, is all. What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” I don’t have a right to know, but I can’t help myself.
“He was a cop. Used to work with my Uncle Logan, actually. That’s how we met. We dated for a few years while I was getting my degree, and then he asked me to marry him after my graduation. My parents were thrilled. They loved him like another son.” She pauses, and I don’t push her. I’m not getting a good feeling about the ending to this story, based on the mournful tone in her voice. “He was killed in a burglary gone wrong. He wasn’t even armed or on duty. Just wrong place, wrong time. How sick is that?”
What’s sick is I can commiserate with her. I know exactly how losing someone close to you feels. Except I don’t say a word. I don’t want to ruin her moment, and I don’t want to share my own pain. That’s what the alcohol’s for.
“I’m sorry. I bet he was a great guy. What was his name?”
She gives me a watery smile. “Oh, he was. His name was Paul. Paul Ramirez. That’s what made moving on so hard. None of it seemed fair at all. I didn’t see the point in getting up in the morning for a long time after he was killed. It was like I lost two lives. His, and the one we were going to make together. There came the point when I knew if I stayed in Florida, I’d never move on. As much as I love my family, they baby me. They would have let me live like a bump on a log for the rest of my days if I didn’t change. So I did. I applied for the job at Catherine’s firm, and here we are.”
“It takes a strong person to do what you did. A lot of people wouldn’t have been able to make that step to move on.” I know I haven’t and I wasn’t even engaged.
Her gaze meets mine. “He wouldn't have wanted me to be sad forever. He would have been the first one to tell me to get off my ass.”
“He would have been right.”
I don’t tell her I’m glad she’s here.
I don’t tell her I know how she feels.
I don’t tell her all the things I wish I could because, between the two of us, I’m the coward.
Clearing my mind of the memories, I toss my trash out the open window into a trash can. “I know what will distract you.”
Twenty minutes later, Phoebe trots behind me, her heels clicking against the sidewalk. “Where are we going?”
“Hyde Park.”
“And why, may I ask, are we going to Hyde Park?”
“Jackson Cole’s contacts came up with a location for the IP address. We’re going to go pay them a visit.”
“Shouldn’t we contact the police first? I thought IPs were easy to trace. Shouldn’t they have found out by now?”
“You’re more than welcome to let them know if they haven’t already. I’d rather not wait until I find you dead for them to do something about it.” I pause with one hand propped on the door handle. “Are you coming or not?”
Her mouth sets into a firm line, and she squares her shoulders. “Of course I’m coming,” she snaps. “I just don’t understand why you have to be so damn secretive about it.”
Atta girl.
“I’m not being secretive. I found out right before the interview, and I didn’t want you distracted. Let me make it up to you. The next time I take you out after this, it’ll be on a real date instead of Chinese food in the park.”
She sends me a wary look. “That wasn’t a real date, Griffin, and there won’t be another.”
I hadn’t planned on pushing the issue, but the sound of abject horror in her voice makes me look at her twice. “What’s so wrong with it being a date?” I ask, a little offended. Not to sound conceited—okay, maybe a little, but I consider myself to be a good-looking guy. I’ve been in my fair share of relationships. To be frank, I don’t think I’ve been turned down before, even unintentionally. The combination of military hero and actor seems to do it for most women.