Page 37 of The Fix

Cami lifted her feet onto the railing as she tucked her sweater around her.

The day had been sunny and warm, but, true to Northern California, the night temperature had quickly dropped.

Rex had lit a fire in the gas firepit on the deck next to where she was sitting, and the warmth from that and the sweater ensured she was nice and cozy, even in the chilly air.

She glanced at the laptop on the small table next to her and saw that Cyrus was still sleeping. Her heart squeezed, and she could barely consider the possibility that by morning, she might be staring at an empty room, no earthly clue where he’d been taken.

She wanted to speed through the hours until morning, when they could again continue their search for businesses that might tell them where to begin hunting for the cabin with bars on the window.

Without a definitive starting point, they’d most likely be spinning their wheels and wasting time. Time that Cyrus didn’t have.

They’ll be here sooner than we thought. Tomorrow afternoon.

The little boy turned over in his sleep, tucking his hands between his knees and curling into a ball.

Moonlight through the window streamed over his face, and a lump formed in her throat at how beautiful he was.

How innocent looking and small. And she massaged the pain that had been just under the skin of her chest ever since she’d first looked upon him over the screen of her laptop, the pain that felt like a fishhook had impaled her heart, some powerful force reeling her toward an unknown end.

Watching him brought up her own trauma, her memories of being bound and voiceless. Cami reached out and ran a finger over his sleeping cheek. I’m with you, she told him silently. I’m here.

She gazed up at the moon, knowing it was the same one he’d see if he woke and looked out his own window. And it caused that hook to pull tight.

Rex came out a few minutes later and handed her a hot cup of tea. “I’d love to offer you a glass of wine,” he said. “But we should stay sharp.”

She smiled as she accepted the warm mug.

“This is perfect. Thank you.” They’d stopped and picked up sandwiches earlier and eaten them at the island while they made a list of stores and restaurants to visit after the bookstore first thing in the morning.

She prayed they’d hit gold with the owner, but if they didn’t, they needed to be prepared. They couldn’t waste a moment.

Rex sat down in the chair on the other side of the small firepit and kicked his legs up on the rail too.

For several moments they simply stared out at the slip of ocean they could see through a break in the trees, the moonlight causing the water to glimmer as it swelled and crashed below.

And though she couldn’t exactly enjoy the beauty of her surroundings, she did recognize the majesty.

She felt Rex’s gaze on her before she turned her head.

“Cami,” he started, “if we ... if we’re not able to find Cyrus in time, I want you to be prepared for that. ”

Her heart dipped. She didn’t want to imagine that scenario. “But your friend, he’s working on it. And we have a good lead for tomorrow morning. And then hopefully most of the day.”

“Yes,” Rex agreed. “But we need a plan B too. We’ll find that cabin, I know we will. But if it’s ... after the fact, then we’ll still find him. We’ll track down the people who are doing this, and we will find your son.”

She took a sip of the hot tea to melt away whatever was halting her breath.

Her gratitude was so all-encompassing that she hardly knew what to say.

How was this man, whom she’d once wronged, unselfishly offering her everything he had to give?

And he’d barely hesitated to do so. Rex Lowe was good, and he was kind, and she’d felt it that day at Hollis’s pool party so long ago, when they’d practically been kids and only spoken for a few minutes, and she’d been right .

It’d been the first real thing she’d felt in a long time of pretending—of playing a part to be accepted by others—and she’d recognized it for what it was. An honest connection. An indescribable pull. And what if ... what if ...

Because that pull, it was still there, even if this wasn’t the time to do anything about it.

And even if a pull like that terrified her because of what she’d experienced.

She hadn’t been with anyone sexually since .

.. Hollis. She’d dated here and there in the last eleven years, but whenever things got remotely physical, she’d begin to drift, like she’d done with him .

In the back of her mind, she knew she wouldn’t feel completely healed until she managed to be present in her skin.

And she still wasn’t sure what that would take.

She reached her hand out behind the glowing embers, and he reached back, taking her hand in his. “How do I thank you?” she asked.

Even in the dim light, she saw his eyes flare, and she saw the way he immediately shut whatever thought down that had caused his bodily reaction, and she knew he felt a pull toward her as well.

He looked away, back out to the sparkling waves, so distant they could barely hear the roar.

“Do you remember that day at Hollis’s pool party when we first spoke?

” He looked back at her, his lips tipping, his expression slightly shy and reminding her of the boy he’d once been.

“Of course I do.” She didn’t mention that she’d just been thinking about that and wondering if things had gone differently ... how maybe ... but, well, what was the use of maybes when that time was so long gone?

He smiled again, and this one was sort of secretive, and it made her smile back.

He let go of her hand and brushed his hair back.

“I used to often wonder what was going through your mind,” he said, and it sounded like a confession.

“But the time I want to ask about is that day at Hollis’s pool.

Right before you saw me, you were staring off at the trees, and you had this look on your face .

.. Is there any chance you remember what you were thinking?

Because I wondered about that, my whole walk home, and I never got the answer. ”

She felt a ripple of warmth, and that hook in her heart loosened.

He looked a little embarrassed, and it was a vulnerable thing to ask, and it made her feel warm and honored and slightly shy too.

But the most surprising part was that he’d remembered that moment, and she was almost shocked that she did too.

But she did. As soon as he’d mentioned it, she’d traveled right back.

She’d actually thought about it before this.

Maybe it was because it was less than an hour prior to her world tipping into the abyss.

It was the figurative before . The clear sky ahead of the storm.

And all her what-ifs started just before that moment.

“I was thinking about endings,” she told him.

His eyes roamed over her face, and she was struck by the recollection of that same intensity of interest that had been on his face that day. It was part of what had drawn her to him, even if she hadn’t recognized that at the time. “Endings?” he asked.

“I was thinking about how there’s always a last time for everything.

That last hug. That last playdate. The last time your mom reads you a certain book.

Big things, small things, and everything in between.

” She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, feeling seventeen, standing in the sunshine, the breeze whispering through the trees.

“I was thinking of the lasts that we don’t know are the lasts at the time, and if we did .

..” Her voice trailed off. She wasn’t exactly sure how to finish that thought.

“If we did, we’d pay more attention,” he said.

She opened her eyes and their gazes met.

“Yes.” She looked away and managed a smile, even if it felt sad.

“And it’s so ... I don’t know.” She furrowed her brow.

“Is it ironic? Sad? Funny? The fact that I was thinking about that right before I lost every last and every new with my mom and my sister.”

He was quiet for a moment as she gathered herself.

Below, the water ebbed and flowed. She appreciated that he didn’t try to fill the space with a sorry that wasn’t his and that she didn’t need.

She’d heard that word so much over the last decade.

And she knew it was said out of kindness, but sometimes she wished people would be more specific because sorry seemed so easy.

And that was unfair of her, she knew that.

People meant well. They meant sorry. They cared and they didn’t know specifically what to say, and so that word encompassed it all.

But again, she was glad that she didn’t have to nod and say thank you in that specific moment.

“I think it’s good that we usually don’t know when a last is a last,” he finally said.

She tipped her head in question. “Why? You just said we’d appreciate them more if we knew.”

“No, I said we’d pay attention. And when you’re focusing on something, especially if it’s an end, you can’t enjoy it. The last time wouldn’t feel like the last time. The time before that would.”

She laughed. “There you go, complicating things again,” she said, harkening back to their conversation that final August day that had turned out to be its own last. She paused, though, and considered what he’d said.

“But I agree. I think it’s right and ..

. good that we have no idea when we’re experiencing a last. The beauty is in the oblivion and in the ordinary. ”

He smiled. It was slow and it was unknowingly sexy, and it made her nerves flutter in her tummy. “I hope talking with you like this isn’t a last,” he said, meeting her eyes and not looking away.

She smiled and she felt a little overwhelmed and slightly nervous, too, and so she took the teasing route.

“Well, I’ll tell you what. How about it’s the first time I beat your ass at that big pool table inside, but not the last.” They’d agreed to take shifts watching Cyrus, but she wasn’t remotely tired, and they could only sit out here staring at the ocean for so long.

He laughed back as he stood and reached out his hand. “We’ll see about that.”