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“J,” he says again. The pain and hopelessness in his voice make my stomach knot and my chest hurt.
Memories slam into me. Waking up alone, going to find her.
The notebook.
The memories.
The pain.
Bleeding out all over the pages before everything became too much and the need to bleed out in a more visceral way became too much to bear.
Dragging my eyes away from Reid’s pained ones, I glance around my room, looking for the notebook.
But everything is tidy. The desk is clear, and all the paperwork is gone.
Did he find it? Did he read it?
Not that it matters. Reid knows everything there is to know about me, my life is an open book where he’s concerned. But something uncomfortable still twists inside me at the thought of him reading those words.
My face burns with his stare as I focus on the desk.
Seconds tick by, but all they achieve is allowing me to remember more and more. Slowly, the pain returns, although the ants never appear.
I’m not sure if I’m relieved or terrified that they’re not there.
It’s a relief, sure. But they’ve been a constant in my life for a long time. In a fucked-up way, when shit is bad, they’re a reminder that I’m still here. That I’m still living and there is a chance everything will get better.
What am I—who am I—without them?
It takes the longest time for everything to settle around me, but when it does, one thing becomes very clear.
“She’s gone, isn’t she?”
I glance back at Reid just in time to see him swallow nervously.
Fuck. This is Reid Harris sitting here before me. He doesn’t get nervous. Ever.
So the fact he’s looking at me with those cautious dark eyes fills my entire body with dread.
His lips part to say something, but no words spill free.
His hesitation doesn’t make me feel any better.
“You’ll get her back,” he finally forces out.
I hold his eyes, desperate to feel the confidence behind that promise, but it’s just not there.
I don’t feel anything.
“You’re lying,” I state flatly.
“Fuck, J.” He sighs, pushing to his feet. He starts pacing back and forth, and it puts me even more on edge.
Suddenly, he pauses and pulls his cell from his pocket.
Without looking at me, he swipes the screen and places it to his ear.
“Yeah,” he agrees roughly to whatever the deep voice says down the line. “Yeah, okay. Yes. Just keep fucking digging.”
