by Jacob Chance
“Georgia, it certainly wasn’t your fault, and you still can. But her family needed to grieve, and the Bureau will have an official service when things settle down.”
“Settle down?”
“There have been other funerals to attend around here lately.” Zoe gently reminds me of the other agents from this office who were killed in the explosion along with Karyn.
I sigh and straighten the napkin in my lap. “Yeah, I guess that’s true, but Karyn was…” My gaze rises to Zoe. “How are you handling her death? She was like a surrogate mom for you.”
She sets her fork down on her plate and pauses. “Losing Karyn brought up a lot of old feelings and emotions from when I lost my parents. It made the old wounds seem fresh, if that makes sense.”
“I can understand that. You were so young when they passed.”
“I still can’t believe Karyn’s gone. I spoke to her the Sunday night before to tell her I had food poisoning and wouldn’t be in the next day. That was the last conversation we ever had.”
“Nash didn’t get sick too?” I question, as if I don’t know the answer.
“No, luckily he didn’t. And we’re not sure why, because we both ate food from the same place. But it’s a good thing he didn’t, because he had to go to D.C. the next morning for a meeting.”
“Right. I remember he had to fly back here once he found out about the explosion.”
Is it too coincidental that Zoe was out of work that day and Nash was out of state?
And why didn’t he also get sick if she really had food poisoning?
I don’t want to have these doubts about two of my friends, but I can’t rule them out simply on that basis either.
I force myself to take a few bites of my wrap before Zoe sees the conflicted expression on my face and questions what’s wrong with me.
“It was a nice service,” she offers.
“How is Karyn’s daughter dealing with the loss?”
“She did amazingly well keeping her composure. She even gave the eulogy.”
“I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that Karyn raised a strong daughter. She was the strongest woman I’ve ever known. I’ll never forget everything she taught me. Her advice was and always will be invaluable.”
Look beyond what your eyes want to see.
This was one of her favorite sayings, and it seems almost prophetic in my current situation. I may not want to see the possibility of my friends being involved, but I need to be sure my personal feelings don’t taint my viewpoint.
“I’ve idolized her since the day we met,” Zoe confesses with a sheepish shrug. “She was my lifeline those first weeks after I lost my folks.”
“To Karyn.” I raise my glass of water. “I hope you’re kicking ass and taking names wherever you are.”
Zoe taps her glass to mine. “To Karyn.” We both drink the ice water, and if Zoe is thinking like me, she’s wishing it was something much stronger.
On my way home from work, I stop at a small local market a few streets over from my house and run inside to grab a few things. I haven’t felt like doing a full shop since I got back from the Outer Banks. I haven’t felt like doing a lot of things that I used to do, but I’ve been forcing myself to keep going—to keep functioning, even if I don’t feel like myself. It’s a slippery slope between mourning someone you lost and falling into a very dark, bleak place that you can’t pull yourself out of. No matter how much I miss Belfast, I cannot allow that to happen.
Once I’m done shopping, I notice a missed call on my phone from my mom. Shit. I haven’t spoken to her since before I went to North Carolina, and we never go this long without checking in with each other.
I might as well get this over with now before I go home and forget to. Scrolling my contacts, I tap on the word ‘Mother’ and wait for her to answer.
“Georgia,” she sounds relieved.
“Hi, Mom. How are you and Dad?”
“We’re fine, but we’ve been worried about you.”
“I know and I’m sorry. I had to go out of town unexpectedly and there’s been a lot going on with a case I’m working on.”
“Don’t overdo it, honey. You spend too much time focusing on others. Maybe you should take a vacation?”
My thoughts race to Belfast and our days together. It’s more than a little pathetic that our time at the beach was the closest thing I’ve had to a vacation since I can’t remember how long. And we were fugitives on the run. Holding back a laugh, it exits my lips as a sob that my mom can’t miss.
“Georgia, what’s wrong?”
“Oh, Mom, I wish you were here to give me a hug. I could really use one.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sending you one. And if you were with me right now, I’d squeeze you so tightly and remind you how much I love you.”
“I know you would. And I love you too, Mom.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Her concerned tone is so comforting.
“I can’t go into detail, but I lost a couple of people who I was close with. And it’s been really hard to keep functioning when all I want to do is lie in bed and grieve.”
“I’m sorry you’re going through this. Can you take a few days off?” she asks.
“I’m not working this coming weekend, so that’ll give me some time and an excuse not to get out of bed.”
“Have you been working out?”
“No. And you know how much I enjoy running and going to the gym. It’s like I’ve lost all motivation.” I sigh with frustration.
“Georgia, you need to make allowances for yourself. You’re obviously going through a tough time and you’ll get back to your routine when you’re ready.”
“I hope so.” I should be at the gym every day, staying as fit as possible.
“Can I make a suggestion?” she questions.
“When don’t you, Mom?”
She laughs. “Tomorrow, get out and take a walk. Get some fresh air, even if it’s only for a few minutes. A change of scenery will do you good.”
She’s right. I do need to do something new. I’m emotionally stagnating sitting in one place. And as much as I’m planning on getting to the bottom of everything that’s happened, I’m not moving forward fast enough. I should be investigating during every free moment I have.
“Okay, I can take a walk.”
“Good. I think getting your blood flowing and breathing in some fresh air will work wonders.”
I smile. Fresh air is my mom’s answer to most of life’s ailments.
“How’s Dad and everyone else?”
“He’s doing well. And your brother and sister are fine. I spoke to them this week.”
“I’m going to go, Mom. I still have to drive home and make dinner. I’ll check in with you soon. I’m sorry if I made you worry.”
“It’s all good, honey. Take care of yourself and get yourself back home for some real hugs one of these days.”
“I’d like that, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you too. Take care of my girl.”
“I will.” At least I’m trying my best to. I hope everything doesn’t blow up in my face. I wish I had one person who I knew without a shadow of a doubt wasn’t complicit in Karyn and Belfast’s deaths; it would be so helpful. Feeling like a lone soldier stranded behind enemy lines doesn’t get any easier.
Soft, warm lips trail down my spine. Smiling into my pillow, I don’t say a word. The sheet is pulled downward as his mouth continues lower, until he sinks his teeth into one of my cheeks.
“Ouch.” I raise my head and scowl over my shoulder at my grinning, unrepentant lover. “What is it with you and biting my ass?”
“Aw, come on, luv. You can’t blame me when it’s so damn delectable.” He caps off his reply with a slap on my other cheek.
“You’re mean,” I huff, lying back on my stomach. “I was having such a nice wake-up call, until you ruined it.”
Belfast settles between my legs and presses his chest to my back. Warmth engulfs me as his
arms band around my stomach. I feel safe and desired.
His large hands settle on my hips, raising me to my knees. The tip of his cock nudges my entrance, and then slides inside in one long, smooth thrust.
Waking with a gasp, I sit up. My eyes reflexively race around my bedroom searching for Belfast.
It was only a dream.
Belfast is dead.
As my crushing reality settles in, I start to cry. Leaning back against the padded headboard, I grab one of my spare pillows and hug it to my chest.
God, that dream seemed so real. I felt his hands on my skin, felt his teeth nip my ass. I felt him tug me to my knees and the moment he sank inside my pussy. It was so real.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I call up the dream again, but it’s not the same. I’m no longer lost in that hazy state.
Tears flow freely as I allow myself to experience the full pain of losing him. I’m not at work where I need to pretend everything is as it should be. There are no witnesses here to observe my grief, and the floodgates open.
It was inevitable that I would break at some point, and in the privacy of my own room is the best option.
I sink down onto the mattress, curled around the pillow, wishing it were Brennan holding me and drying my tears.
But if he were here, I’d have no reason to cry. He’d be regaling me with some amusing story after he’d wrung at least two orgasms from me. My days and nights would be filled with endless laughter, instead of the forced chuckle I’ve had to adopt.
We packed a lot of love into a short amount of time. I wish he knew how much those moments we spent together mean to me.
I never told him that I love him. I love him and always will.
Why didn’t I say the words?
Can he see me now? Does he know how much I feel the loss of him passing?
I hope you know that you’re not forgotten, Brennan. And you never will be. That I can promise you.
Chapter Five
Georgia
The next couple of days pass in a monotonous blur of get up, go to work, eat my three squares, and sleep. Nash assigned me to the background research on a case involving a local college professor suspected of running a sex ring. Thankfully, it’s been keeping me busy. Too busy to spend much time finding the answers I need about Belfast and Karyn. But maybe that was part of the plan when Nash put me on this particular case. Maybe he wants me to have little or no free time so I can’t look for answers.
I’m still working at my desk, although most have already left for the weekend.
“Georgia, what are you doing here?” Sam stops in front of my desk.
“I'm looking for a needle in a haystack,” I droll.
He chuckles. “Isn’t that what we do best here at the Bureau? I know it’s not at all what I thought it would be when I was a kid.”
I smile, looking up at him. “You’re so right. Half of this job I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.”
“I bet the half you’re referring to is all the sitting at your desk trying to make sense out of complete nonsense.”
“Yep. I’ll take my chances in the field. Me and my gun will do just fine. At least getting shot at breaks up the monotony,” I joke.
“And it makes you appreciate being alive.”
“Definitely.”
“Want to grab a bite to eat? There’s a great pizza place about a mile from here.”
My stomach has been feeling hollow for the last couple of hours. And maybe if I spend some time with Sam, I can get some insight into what he knows.
“Come on,” he encourages. “I’ve been told I’m good company.”
“Sure. Just let me log out quickly.”
“So, how did you end up working in Boston? You’re originally from D.C., right?” I settle back in my side of the booth, placing my napkin on my now empty plate. The pizza was delicious, and it’s time for some answers.
“Yeah, but I actually lived in Northern Virginia. As for how I got lucky enough to be here, I was offered the job. It was a pay raise, and I’m single.” He shrugs. “If I want to experience living somewhere aside from the area I’d grown up in, there was no more opportune time.”
“I’m surprised they moved you here. I wasn’t aware we were short staffed. At least not prior to the explosion.”
“I guess Karyn and my boss were old friends and he mentioned that I might be open to relocating.”
That still doesn’t tell me why he was sent here.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he questions.
I open my narrowed gaze wider. “Like what?”
“You were studying me like a science experiment.” He grins.
“I’m sorry. I was thinking about something, and I guess I just kept my stare fastened on you. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
“Hey, you won’t hear me complaining that a beautiful woman was looking at me. You can watch me all you want.” He winks.
“When were you scheduled to move here?” I change the subject. He’s a handsome guy, and if I hadn’t fallen for Belfast, I might flirt back. But Belfast is front and center in my heart and head. And I don’t see that changing.
“Next month. But the date got rushed forward for obvious reasons.”
“Where are you staying?”
“I’ve been crashing at my cousin’s place. But I can move into my apartment in a couple of weeks. I can’t wait.”
“I bet. Staying with other people is never fun.” Unless you're at the beach with Belfast. My lips twitch at the corners as I think about all the fun we had frolicking in the water, making s’mores, making love.
“Why do I feel like you’re a million miles away right now?” His gaze stays on me.
“Not at all. I just know that whenever I’ve had family crash at my house, it’s never easy. It’s hard to share your space with someone else when you’re not used to doing so.”
“Are you married or involved with someone?”
“I’m not married, and I was involved. The end of our relationship was hard and it’s still new.” I’m trying to stay as close to the facts as I can.
“I’m sorry it was rough on you.”
If you only knew who I’m talking about you probably wouldn’t be sorry anymore.
“Thank you.”
The waitress comes over, placing our slices of chocolate cream pie on the table and two spoons. She’s barely taken a step away when I shovel a large bite between my lips. Pie can’t fix all our wounds, but it sure as hell doesn’t hurt.
“Great idea, by the way,” Sam mumbles between bites.
“I hardly ever eat dessert, so whenever I go out for dinner, I try to get something,” I explain.
When we’re done with our pie, Sam has the waitress bring us coffee.
We both sit quietly, sipping on the steaming brew. Neither of us are in a rush to leave. I’m certainly not in a hurry to go home to my empty space. The nights are the worst for me. I have too much time to think and not enough distractions.
“Have you ever been married?” I ask.
“No. I’ve never really come close either. Our job makes relationships tough.”
Especially when you’re in love with a criminal.
“Yeah, no one wants to be second to a career.”
“What about you?”
“Nope. I haven’t been married. My ex and I were pretty serious, but we were really different people.”
“Sometimes different can be a good thing.”
“Yeah, I agree. I’m pretty straightlaced and he’s the opposite. We had a lot of laughs.”
The waitress drops off the check and Sam immediately reaches for it. “I’ve got this. I asked you.”
“I’m perfectly happy to pay my share.”
“Think of this as a bribe to get you to call me Sam.” His grin is crookedly charming. “How about it?”
I smile and slowly shake my head. “Thanks for dinner, Agent Beck.”
He presses his lips together and shakes his head in
mock disappointment before dropping money on the table. We walk outside together and his hand lands on my back as we make our way to his vehicle.
He clicks the remote, unlocking my door and reaches in front of me to open it.
“Thank you.” I slip onto the seat and he closes me inside.
He gets in the other side and starts the SUV.
“Thanks again for dinner. I haven’t eaten that well in a long time,” I say.
He flashes me a brief smile. “Don’t mention it. I’m glad you enjoyed it so much. I discovered this place my second night in town and I’ve already become a regular.”
He guides the vehicle onto the road, heading toward my place.
“Thank you for giving me a ride. You saved me from riding the T.”
“No problem. But you shouldn’t be riding the T at night. It’s not safe.”
“It’s fine. And don’t forget I’ve got a gun and know how to use it.”
“When are you getting your car back from the garage?” he questions.
“Zoe’s taking me tomorrow afternoon.”
“Good.”
Before we know it, Sam’s parking along the curb. He jumps out after shutting down the engine and meets me on the sidewalk. “I want to walk you in.”
“You don’t need to do that. Feeding me was enough.”
He catches hold of my wrist, gently tugging. “Come on.” He holds on to me all the way up the stairs, letting go when I have to find my keys. I unlock the front door and he follows me to my condo. He holds up one finger when I make a move to step inside my home. “Let me look around.”
He’s gone before I can protest. Why does he feel the need to search my place? Does he know something he’s not telling me?
“Everything looks fine,” he informs.
I cross my arms. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“Should I be worried about something? This is the second time you’ve checked out my place.”
“There’s nothing concrete to worry about. I just wonder if any of Belfast’s associates are keeping an eye on you.”
“Why would they?”
“They could blame you for his death.”
