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“So do I,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I have to go.”

His flight was an early one and he was meeting with Bowen beforehand to discuss their agenda. She knew this.

“I’ve got something for you.” Teague led her back into the house and retrieved a large envelope she’d not noticed before. “Open it after I leave, okay?” He grabbed her close, his hands in her hair.

“Be safe,” she whispered.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and then he was gone.

Sabrina held the envelope close to her chest. She heard the engine of his truck rev and she listened intently until the rumble was swallowed by the night and the forest.

And then there was nothing.

Eventually she got her feet to move and she shut off all the lights in the cottage. She locked her doors and then headed for the sofa, but at the last minute she swerved to the right and seconds later found herself back in her bedroom.

The stars shone in from the window and she walked over to it and yanked it open to let in some fresh air. Carefully she set down the envelope that Teague had left for her. She would open it. Just not tonight. Tonight she was done.

She slipped the dress off and let it fall at her feet, kicking off her shoes at the same time. She glanced around the room one more time and then climbed into bed. Her bed.

She listened to the silence of her home, happy in the knowledge that her kids were sleeping in the next room. Happy that they were healthy and alive and safe. Happy that Teague Simon had come into their lives, however briefly it had been.

She snuggled into the blankets, not caring that they smelled old and musty. The mattress was soft, the breeze off the water amazing and she gazed up through the window at the stars, wondering what they looked like on the other side of the world.

She stared at them until her lids got heavy and eventually she drifted off to sleep right there in a bed she’d abandoned for over a year. It was time for her to move on. Even if moving on meant that she’d be alone.

Chapter Twenty-three

Teague was in Syria for exactly three weeks. The conditions were dangerous and there were more than a few close calls, but in the end he and Bowen were able to confirm that Dallas had been killed in the initial assault. There was closure for Dallas’ family and that meant a lot to Teague.

He had every intention of returning stateside and then heading up north. Hell, it was all he could think about, but then a leading British publication contacted him about a related story to his piece on the child porn ring. It was a gig he couldn’t refuse. There were new leads on one particular girl he’d been trying to help identify—a child who’d been abused for years and whose pictures were the most heavily shared images to date—and before he knew it, he was off to Europe with Bowen along for the ride, deeply immersed in the seedy underbelly of child

pornography.

If he’d forgotten just how dark and evil the world was, he was baptized into it again right off the bat. And even though the light that Sabrina had brought to him was still there, he knew it was diminishing and for the first time in his adult life, his work didn’t help calm him.

Things were out of sync. He was out of sync.

He’d talked to Sabrina once, just after he’d left Syria. She was busy with the kids and didn’t have long to chat. She asked him if he was coming back now that he had his answers, and he hoped that she understood when he’d said that he couldn’t. At least not yet.

She’d been silent for a few seconds and then they’d made small talk. She told him that Harry and Morgan were trying out for a rep hockey team. That she’d decided to move to Gravenhurst and leave the city.

He told her that his brother Beau and wife Betty were about to give birth to their first child. Already over-due the world was waiting with bated breath. Not that he’d be there to see the kid, but it was news and it made him feel as if he had something to share that was good and wholesome. Something untouched by the darkness he’d been living in for weeks.

She wished him well. Told him to be safe. He told her to tell the kids that he said hello. And that was that. He called Sabrina again from Paris but got her voicemail. He left a message which she returned, but he didn’t get the call in time.

Since then, his brother Beau had welcomed a baby boy and at the moment little Trent Simon and his famous parents were the most photographed family in the world. William and Kate and their brood had nothing on the so-called Southern Kennedys and their new prince. The media frenzy in the states was so crazy that it was the main reason Beau and Betty headed up to the Simon cottage to host the little guy’s baptism.

And wonder of all wonders, Teague was finally back on American soil to enjoy it. He’d flown into JFK an hour earlier and was on his way to meet Tucker and Abby for dinner at her family bar, and then the three of them had an afternoon flight the next day to Canada where the Simon clan was gathered.

Teague tipped his driver and hoisted his equipment over his shoulder before entering The Black Dog. It was a Thursday night and the place was hopping. He slid up to the bar and grinned at the sight that greeted him. His brother’s tie was stained, his dress shirt wrinkled, and his hand was covered in beer foam.

“Since when do you bartend?”

Tucker glanced up from pouring a large draft. “Son-of-a-bitch. You’re early. Thought you wouldn’t get here for another two hours.”

“I see that.” Teague lifted his chin. “Pour me one, will ya?”

Abby Mathews slid up behind her fiancé and planted a kiss on the side of his neck. She glanced over and squealed. “Teague!” She paused. “You look like shit.”

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