While It Lasts

by Paige Rion

  “The other day when you asked me if I dated much, you never said so about yourself. Did you see a lot of women back in Florida?” Rachel asked.

  He smirked as he stared into the flames. “Not hardly. Dating is a rarity.”

  “Why is that? I find it hard to believe you can’t find dates.”

  He shrugged. “Dating always complicates things. Right now I don’t have time for complications.”

  “And this doesn’t complicate things for you? Dating a clients’ daughter?”

  He met her bold gaze. She was quick, he’d give her that much. “Maybe there are some things worth complicating your life for.” Even as he said it, he felt something shift inside him, some truth or foreshadowing of events to come. It made him uncomfortable as she stared at him with those big blue eyes.

  “Well, our first date certainly was unorthodox, wasn’t it?”

  He wasn’t sure if she wanted him to answer that, so he said nothing.

  “Do you go around the world trying to save one abused woman at a time?”

  Not the one who mattered most, Colton thought, as an image of his mother flashed in his head—the fear in her eyes, the pain etched in her youthful expression.

  When he said nothing, Rachel lowered her voice, her tone soft. “You mentioned that women, abuse, they triggered you. Why is that?”

  He looked at his hands, clasped in his lap, deciding whether to speak. It wasn’t a story he wanted to tell. It was a story, as a rule, that he didn’t share. Other than the agents who hired him, his grandparents were the only ones that knew about his past. Sharing the heartache and trauma of his past was something he avoided at all costs. And he wanted to keep it that way. Some things hurt too much to talk about. Some things were best kept secret.

  In a quiet voice, he said, “I like talking more about you.”

  “I’ve noticed, but this is a two-way street, and I feel like you already know about me. There’s not much left to tell, and considering what happened the other night, I think your past is relevant.”

  “It's a lot...”

  "This place makes you tell secrets you never thought you'd share. It makes the past, the present, easier to handle.” When he said nothing, she added, “Okay, there’s also very little to do here this time of night in the winter, when you're freezing, other than talk."

  Despite the way all his muscles had tensed at the thought of his mother, he laughed. She reached over and grabbed his hand, coaxing his fingers to uncurl from the automatic fist he’d made until they relaxed. Her icy blue eyes stared back at him, reflecting the flickering flames of the fire inside them like fireflies. Her smile softened as she took his other hand, smoothing it open along with the first, and then lifted them to her mouth. She held them up to her lips, warming them with the soft exhalation of her breath.

  He stilled with the gesture, unused to anyone caring about his comfort, and feeling slightly out of sorts. Lacing his fingers through hers, an electric undercurrent plunged like an anchor to his heart, and he realized, as he reached out and moved a strand of hair from her face, that he no longer had to try. In that moment, he forgot they were pretending. He forgot this wasn’t a girl he wanted for himself instead of a job. He forgot that sharing his past with her was the last thing he should do, and his voice betrayed him.

  “It’s a cliché,” he said, running a hand through his dark hair and turning back to the fire.

  “What is?”

  “My story. My childhood.” He drew in a shaky breath. “I grew up in a small town in Florida. My mother got pregnant at a young age. She came from a farming family who did okay, but from what I gathered had a deadbeat for a boyfriend because he left her right before she gave birth. Just took off. After I was born, she was sick of feeling like she lived under her parents’ thumb, was tired of their questioning her parenting skills, and so she left. She had nothing, though, and she wanted a father for her son, so she fell into a relationship. The first one she could find, and it ended up being the mistake of her life. You think at eighteen getting pregnant is a mistake, but that was nothing compared to the mistake of marrying that man.”

  He could hear the way his voice grew hard, the way he referred to who would’ve been his stepfather as nothing more than “that man.” And he was sure she heard it too, but he couldn’t help it.

  Rachel placed a hand on his arm, as if instinctively sensing the direction the story would head. Normally, he would hate such comfort measures. He said he didn’t date much because he didn’t like complications, but that had been a half-truth. He was a man that backed away from emotional attachments, probably a result of such a horrific childhood. Even more so, he found it difficult to trust, an unfortunate side effect of his profession.

  “So...” He swallowed over the lump in his throat and stared into the fire, as he continued, “She married him, and I ended up being the lucky recipient of a stepfather who liked to use his wife as a punching bag. I saw her get hit; I don't know how many times. I watched him break her nose, bloody her lip, bruise her eyes, break her jaw, and her ribs. You name it. So many times I’d stand there helpless, watching him beat her, seeing the bloom of violet on her skin as she bruised. He only struck me a couple times. Mostly, I’d just stand there and cry or hide in my room and he just ignored me.” He paused and rubbed his hands together, unsure of whether to continue, but unable to stop himself, surprised that he felt an odd sense of relief at letting it all out. It felt good telling her, and he wondered briefly, before he continued, what that meant, and sensing in the pit of his stomach that he was a sinking ship. That he was in trouble.

  “I was there the night she died.”

  Next to him, he felt her tense.

  “I was the one to call the police that night. I was the one that got him arrested. I was the one who stayed with my mother's lifeless body, waiting for the EMTs to take her away, and I was one of the ones who testified at trail and got him convicted of murder.”

  His stomach dropped to the ground at the admission, but his chest seemed to swell and open, as he took a deep breath, as though something was set free by voicing the truth. She said nothing, and for a moment, the sting of fear and judgment colored the moment, until she shifted next to him and gripped his face between the warmth of her hands.

  He swallowed as his gaze moved over her face, taking in the soft lines of concern creasing her forehead, the emotion in her eyes, and the way her full lips parted, as if she couldn’t comprehend in words what he just shared. And inside him, he felt something—some invisible barrier, some wall he hadn’t fully realized existed—crumble.

  Moving his hand to the back of her head, he slowly inched forward, closing the gap between them until his mouth was on hers. He kissed her softly at first, until all the emotion of his past, of everything he just exposed about himself, rose to surface and he kissed her harder. Crushing his mouth over hers, he felt her moan of surprise under his mouth. He kissed her with a fever, as if this might be his last time to kiss a woman, as if somehow she were his remedy, a cool compress that could somehow soothe the festering wound in his heart.

  He fisted his hands in the back of her hair, pleased that she responded, that she kissed him back with the same passion he felt coursing through his own veins. And as he deepened the kiss, moving his hands to pull her closer, everything else around him fell away. The investigation. Her father. His past. His present. And nothing existed but Rachel, her lips, and the way she touched him with such tenderness.

  He moved to her neck, her ear, kissing her and feeling more alive in that moment than he had in a long time. When he took her earlobe into his teeth, gently nipping it, her breathy moan set him on fire.

  “Rex,” she whispered.

  And just like that, the spell was broken. The sound of his alias broke through everything else. He pulled back from her, his heart thumping against his ribs. Rex...not Colton.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her breathing heavy

  Turning away from her, he covered his face
with his hands before running them through his hair and clasping them behind his head. He exhaled a long breath, grounding himself. What the hell was that? And why was he so bothered by the fact that she called him Rex? That’s who he was to her, it was who he was supposed to be. His plan was working.

  “I’m sorry. Did I do something?” she asked, her voice full of emotion.

  He shook his head as he met her eyes, an unfamiliar wrenching in his chest. He wished, for once, he wasn’t so good at his job.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Rachel could hear the hammering of her pulse. The blood soared through her veins and if her heart worked any harder, she thought it might stop altogether.

  She stared at Rex, who looked as though he’d just committed the ultimate sin. She could still feel the burn of his stubble on her cheeks, a sore reminder of the hottest kiss of her life just moments ago. She had no idea what she did wrong, but it was clear to her she had committed some sort of offense.

  She tried to collect herself as she watched whatever war was raging inside of him. But no matter how many times she reminded herself this was a game and she was pretending, in that moment, her body, her heart, didn’t believe it, and she wanted his mouth back on hers so bad it hurt.

  Rex straightened, his eyes pinpoints in the dark as he narrowed them at something in the distance. Meeting the direction of his gaze, Rachel squinted. Just as she made out a black figure off the west side of the cove, a yelp-like cry ripped through the night.

  Jumping to her feet, she stared at the shadow by the water’s edge. They weren’t alone.

  Someone was out there, and by the looks and sound of it, they had fallen, trying to escape unnoticed. Rachel moved closer as the figure—clearly a woman by the size of her and the flowing hair—scrambled to her feet, moving away from the water.

  “Andi?” Rachel called, because it was the only person that made sense being there in the middle of the night.

  She moved closer, just as the woman stepped into the light of the moon, meeting her gaze from far away. And all it took was that split second for Rachel to recognize the coppery hair, the petite frame, and wide eyes. The only difference between this woman and her missing best friend was the stomach. It protruded from her abdomen like a small basketball, a perfect, round, and unmistakable bump. But before Rachel could process what was in front of her, the woman ran into the edge of the woods and disappeared.

  Oh, my God!

  “Carma?” Rachel quickened her pace, hurrying toward the other side of the woods where she vanished. Her eyes skated over the trees and she cursed herself for leaving her phone, the only light source she had, behind.

  “Carma?” she called again, this time cupping her hands around her mouth.

  “Did you know that girl?” Rex asked from behind her.

  Jumping, Rachel caught her breath. She’d forgotten about Rex in her surprise at seeing her friend.

  It took a moment, but once she was able to think through the haze of thoughts and questions firing through in her head, she answered, “Yes, I think so. Yes.”

  “Are you sure? Why is she out here by herself? And why doesn’t she want you to see her?”

  Icy fingers squeezed her heart as she asked herself the same thing. But even more important was the question, was she pregnant?

  * * *

  Rachel stood in the middle of the woods, the beam of Andi’s flashlight burning her retinas, and she couldn’t help but think Andi was getting a wicked sort of satisfaction from both shining the light in her eyes and the fact that Rachel had called her all the way out there only to turn up no signs anyone had been there other than her and Rex.

  Andi sighed and shook her head, as if this whole thing had been a huge inconvenience. “There’s no sign of anyone here, let alone Carma. And the evenings out here are freezing. I can’t imagine her roughing it outdoors. Are you sure you saw her?”

  “Yes. I’m positive. It was her.” Beside her, she felt Rex place his hand under her elbow, a subtle show of support she appreciated more than he knew. After she lost sight of Carma in the woods, Rachel lost all sense, rambling and muttering things about Carma being pregnant. Practically in tears, she blamed her skyrocketing emotions on the combination of feelings from kissing Rex moments earlier, only to have him pull away from her like she had the plague, and the sighting of one of her best friends that fled town without a word, only to show up so suddenly and seemingly with child before vanishing again.

  Andi pursed her lips, and Rachel could tell by the way her brown eyes bore into hers, she was assessing Rachel in every way. “Are you sure it wasn’t just a ploy to get me out here? To get me talking to you?”

  Gritting her teeth, Rachel fought the wave of anger that fluttered in her chest. “No. I’m better at scheming than some ridiculous mock sighting of a mutual friend,” she said stressing the word. “We both know that.” Then, as if they both thought the same thing, they glanced up at Rex, then away again. “Give me some credit,” Rachel added, her tone softer.

  “So...Why is she out here, then?” Andi said, squinting into the night, as if Carma might appear at any second. And Rachel could tell, even if she wasn’t fond of her at the moment, she believed her.

  “It makes no sense.” Andi shook her head. “She left because she was in trouble. She skipped bail—”

  “She, what?” Rex asked beside her. “Wait...Who is this we’re talking about?” Turning to Rachel, his eyes slightly accusing, he asked, “I thought you just said she vanished and you had no idea why, other than she always wanted to leave?”

  Feeling the weight of his reproach and confused by Andi’s version of events, Rachel lifted her shoulders. “That’s all I knew. I have no idea what she’s talking about.” She gestured at Andi. “What do you mean she skipped bail? What was she in trouble for, and why don’t I know about it?”

  Sighing, Andi moved the light from Rachel’s eyes. “It happened when I was in New York with Ford. Carma got caught stealing from Peach’s. She was arrested and I helped bail her out, but she fled the second she got out.” Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Andi’s voice hardened. “I would’ve told you, but I came home to a media frenzy, and then to the news that Ford was leaving town, thanks to you. So, I’m sorry, but I was a bit preoccupied and didn’t get to share while you were busy stabbing me in the back.”

  Did Andi really think now was the time to rehash their past?

  Carma was out there somewhere, disappeared to God knows where, and she needed them. She was in trouble. Rachel couldn’t explain it, but she felt it in her soul.

  Shaking her head, she brought a hand to her head and kneaded her temples, as if everything would somehow make sense if she just applied enough pressure.

  “I’m sorry for everything, okay? I can’t change it now, but—”

  “When are you going to grow up? Name one good reason I should forgive you, when it’s clear to me you’re still up to your same antics?” Andi’s eyes flashed in the darkness, and Rachel could feel the heat of embarrassment in her cheeks. When she said nothing, Andi scoffed. “I didn’t think so.”

  But after months of Andi’s ignoring her, combined with the stress of it all, Rachel snapped. “I was scared! Okay?” She drew in a shaky breath. “I had just heard that my mother had some crazy gambling problem I had no idea about. I overheard a conversation my father had with someone about losing everything—our home, his job, our reputation—and all I wanted to do was run. I wanted out. I wanted a solution and Ford seemed like the best one. I realize it was a crappy move. I can see that more clearly now, but I was desperate, Andi. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “I wouldn’t understand?” Andi took a step forward, directly in front of her. “You think I don’t know what desperation feels like? For months after you and Ford left, I sat alone, depressed and scared as hell that I’d never see him again. So, don’t tell me about desperation. You were supposed to be my friend,” Andi stepped toward her and stabbed a finger to her chest. The pain and anger
in her voice was palpable as she continued, “I trusted you. You were my best friend and you ran off with him.”

  “He went with me. It was his idea. And he never wanted me for anything but a prop for the media, and an assistant. And you know it. So, stop acting like you don’t. Be angry with me, fine. But be mad at him too. It’s only fair.”

  Andi’s eyes flashed. “He did what he thought was best for me, no matter how misguided. He did it because he loved me and didn’t want to see the media tear me apart. You, on the other hand, schemed. You were the one that sold that story to the press. Were you thinking of me, when you did that? I don’t think so.”

  “You’re right. I wasn’t. I was thinking of something, anything that could save my family.”

  “Yeah, because of this guy right here.” Andi pointed to Rex, who put up his hands and stepped away from them both. “Yet here you are. What are you doing, Rachel?”

  “I have nothing. I have no prospects for a future outside my father, except one that hinges on a man. Do you have any idea what that feels like? To know that you pretty much have nothing going for you? That everyone else around is just passing you by while you’re left just standing still, rooted in place? You have your writing, your career. And I thought...I figured even if you didn’t have Ford, at least you’d have that.” Rachel shook her head and glanced away, avoiding both Andi’s gaze and Rex’s. She didn’t even want to know what he thought about her now. What a loser she must look like.

  “When are you going to get away from your family—the people who are dragging you down—and build an actual life for yourself without relying on others?”

  Swallowing over the lump in her throat, she thought of her father and how he’d disapprove of this display of emotion. Don’t let ’em see you sweat, he’d say. And suddenly she was tired of living her life that way. Tired of hiding behind this façade she carried around as if it were her job. What did being strong get her? What did being aggressive get her? It lost her one best friend and who knows how many other opportunities.