Page 13 of Dead Drift

When we were at the hospital, Declan said there’d been a shootout at your boat.” It’d been nagging at Luke.

“Ebeid’s men were after Tanner and Declan,” she said.

“On your boat?”

“Tanner had been staying with me. Declan was walking her home and Ebeid’s men opened fire.”

“Obviously, they survived.”

“Do you think they blew up my boat assuming Tanner was still staying with me?” Kate asked. “In retribution for Declan stopping the Bay Bridge attack?”

“It’s possible, but my gut says they were there for you—and possibly me.” And the man in black would have succeeded if he hadn’t been there, as Kate had been sound asleep. The thought hit him hard. He’d already lost Katie once by walking away. Now that he was back . . . the thought of her gone for good was suffocating.

“Why for me?” she asked, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

He tapped the wheel with his thumb. How real was he willing to get? “Either because of your connection to Declan’s investigation or . . . because they’ve figured out what you mean to me.”

“How could they possibly know what I mean to you when I have zero clue?”

After the kiss they’d shared the other night and his apology, he’d hoped she at least knew he still loved her. Not that he could necessarily do anything about it, but he wanted her to know he’d carried her with him all these years. “I guess I hoped . . .”

“Hoped what?” She shifted to face him, and the unease reflecting in her eyes tugged at his soul. “You took off without a word and have been gone for over seven years. How on earth could I assume—let alone know—that I mean anything to you?”

The breath left his lungs in a whoosh. She really didn’t know. But how could he blame her? If the roles had been reversed, what would he be thinking? He swallowed hard, the stinging reality of the depths of pain he’d caused hitting home. “I’m sorry, Gracie.”

She stiffened, tears glistening in her eyes as an oncoming car’s headlight beams bounced off her beautiful face.

Apparently the use of her nickname hit a raw nerve.

She stayed silent the remainder of the ride, and he left it there. He’d said little but already caused her pain. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her more. She deserved nothing but the best, and he most certainly wasn’t it.

The sound of Gracie on Luke’s lips—the nickname he’d whispered during their most tender, most in-love moments—echoed through her soul. She swallowed, hugging her knees to her chest as they drove to Luke’s hotel, but where that was, she had no clue.

Luke had apologized for leaving, the words sincere and pained, and he’d kissed her—a kiss that tickled her soul. But what did that all mean after so much time? And why should it even matter?

But it did. It mattered immensely, and that realization heated the frustration pulsing through her veins. How could her feelings betray her so easily? All it took was an apology and a kiss, and love pounded in her for a man who’d wounded her beyond measure.

Speaking of wounding . . . She blinked as her mind shifted to the realization that she’d just lost her home and most of her belongings. Everything was a blur, a distant dream, as if she were sleepwalking. She was in a combination of shock and survival mode, but as soon as the adrenaline wore off, the real pain would come. She braced herself for it, praying Luke didn’t know she was fighting off tears, but surely he’d seen . . .

Luke pulled into the rear lot of what could aptly be described as a down-on-its-luck motel.

Not that she was a hotel snob like her mom—far from it. She’d done her fair share of backpacking across states, camping on beaches, staying in three-star hotels, but this looked like something out of Deliverance.

He rolled to a stop, cut the engine and the lights.

She unbuckled. “Please tell me this is a pit stop on the way to the real hotel.”

He chuckled. “This is it, at least for the night.”

She stepped from the car as he did. “This from the college guy who refused to stay at any hotel chain under four stars.” He and her mom had gotten along great.

“Let’s just say my time in the field gave me a fresh appreciation for any place with a solid roof over my head, running water, and electricity.”

“Never thought I’d hear those words come out of your mouth.” She wondered more about his time away, where and how it was spent, but she imagined there was little he could share.

He unlocked his door with an extra jiggle of the key and held it open for her. She stepped inside, and as he flipped on the light switch she felt she’d stepped back in time.

Retro nineties was the style. Either that, or the room had been the same for nigh on three decades. Sadly, she was betting the latter. The walls were a deep charcoal gray with a handful of colors painted in zigzag patterns on the far wall. The chairs around the round chrome-and-glass dining table to her right were padded in black pleather. To the left was a double bed with a black, purple, and aqua-striped comforter, a chrome-and-glass nightstand on either side, topped with chrome gooseneck lamps and a square black clock with green digital numbers, like the one she’d had when she was a kid.