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I wrapped my hands around the straps of my backpack and held my head up high, intent on putting up a front as I made the five-minute walk to the dorm building. I was halfway there when someone called my name, but I didn’t turn around. I had to keep my eye on the prize, and my attention focused on the task at hand.
“Belle!” The voice was closer now, and it was breaking through the wall I’d built. “Belle.” A hand touched my shoulder, and I gasped at the contact. “Belle? You okay?” The person moved in front of me, blocking my way, and I stared up at him.
“I…”
“I’ve been trying to call you,” he said, and I remembered the last time I’d spoken to him. I’d told him about Stella and Justin.
“I’m sorry, Curtis.” I wasn’t sure what I was apologizing for. “I…I have to go.”
I moved to the left and walked past him, gripping my bag tighter and clenching my jaw. I couldn’t look at him and not see Stella and Justin. The four of us came as a package, but now there were only two left. Two people didn’t sit at a table of four. Two people didn’t fill a small booth.
“Wait up!” he called, and I heard his footsteps behind me, so I walked faster. I couldn’t face him. Not today. Not while I was still trying to process everything.
I didn’t stop at the road outside the dorm building. I just ran right across it, not caring if any cars were coming.
“Belle!” he shouted, but I continued to ignore him and ran into my building and to the elevator. The numbers above the doors told me it was on the third floor, and I looked behind me, spotting Curtis jogging into the building. A look of concern was etched onto his features, and sadness shadowed his eyes. I couldn’t bear seeing it, not when I was sure my own face looked the same.
The doors whooshed open as his gaze connected with mine, and I stepped in, pressing the button to close the doors and urging them to go faster as he ran toward me. He was only a few steps away when they closed, and I let my body sag against the back wall. My heart raced out of my chest, my pulse thrumming, but I had no regret. He probably wanted answers. Answers I didn’t and couldn’t give him.
The doors opened, and I shuffled down the hallway, taking no notice of the girls roaming to each other’s rooms or the open doors. All I needed was to get into my own room and not come back out until tomorrow.
I unlocked my door just as my stomach gurgled, and then slammed it behind me and rushed to my bathroom. My knees clashed with the tiled floor, and I made it just in time to puke what little I’d eaten down the toilet.
Tears streamed down my face at the force of my heaves, and I didn’t move for several minutes. Not until my cell vibrated against my hip from inside my jeans pocket. I didn’t look at who it was, because it didn’t matter. Not in the grand scheme of things. So I pushed up, rinsed my mouth out, and then slumped back into my room and curled up in my bed.
Another vibration reverberated against me, so I pulled my cell out, seeing a notification for a voicemail. My thumb hovered over it, debating whether I should play it or not. I knew it would be from Mom or Dad. I hadn’t spoken to either of them for over a week.
This time last week, Stella had been alive with only hours left to live.
My thumb slipped over the screen of my cell, and the voicemail started to play: “Belle? Answer your phone!” There was a pause, and I stared at the screen. “I need to talk to you. It’s important. Call me back, okay?”
The message stopped abruptly, leaving me in complete silence. I closed my eyes, wondering if this was what the rest of my life would entail. Would I always be thinking about Stella and Justin? Would I always wonder if Ford and I could have been together?
Would I always be this sad?
* * *
FORD
Brody had given me the rest of the weekend to adjust to being back home. He said I needed a break because once Monday came, we were going full force on our next case.
So that was what I’d done. I’d spent time at my house, Lottie and me. The place was too big for just the two of us, but because no one had been staying here for over a year, I had plenty to do to freshen it up. When I wasn’t deep cleaning my house, I was working in the yard with Lottie running rings around the edge of the fence. And when I wasn’t doing that, I’d remember.
Remember the way Belle looked at me.
Remember the way her smile made me feel.
Remember the way her lips felt against mine.
And if the way Lottie looked at me was anything to go by, she was missing Belle too.
I’d taken her into the offices yesterday so one of our dog handlers could tell me what he thought of her. He’d put her through her paces and confirmed she was a trained dog veteran. He’d offered to take her under his wing, but I’d declined. She wasn’t there to be used for the task force. She was here to be a normal pet. Belle wouldn’t want her being put to work.
But now we were here, on a Friday evening, with nothing to do. This time last week, I’d been driving us back to her apartment and then…then we’d walked in to find Stella and Justin. My fingers itched to pick up my cell and call Belle, but I knew I couldn’t. I couldn’t give her false hope, not when I’d most likely be undercover again soon.
It was the way my life was. I was away more than I was at home. She knew that. We all knew that. But it didn’t make this any easier.
Lottie groaned and put her head on my knees, staring at me with those glossy brown eyes. “I know, girl,” I murmured, running my hand between her ears and pushing my fingers through her short fur. She’d successfully malted over my dark-brown sofa and left her mark in every corner of the yard. “I miss her too.” Lottie whined, a reply to what I’d said, but I didn’t know what I could do. I wasn’t sure there was anything I could do.
