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She pulled back and stood to her full height. “Let’s get you home. These cavemen don’t get to hog you any longer.”
“Who you calling a caveman?”
I glanced over to see Dad leaning against the doorway with a small smile on his face.
“I’m protecting her, you know that.”
“I know,” Mom replied. “I remember when you did the same for me.” She paused, and Dad’s nostrils flared. “But now you can get out of our way. We’re going home.”
Mom held her hand out for me, and I took it without a second thought but halted as a shadow moved behind Dad. I spotted the jean-clad legs first, and then the black T-shirt, and finally, I made it to the face. A face that shouldn’t have been standing there. His gaze clashed with mine, so many emotions showcased to me, but all I could feel was shock.
“Ford?”
Chapter Six
FORD
Her voice was music to my ears. Music I’d been deprived of. Music I’d longed to hear almost every day for the last six months.
Six months she’d been gone. Six months of wondering where she was. Six months of stopping myself from searching for her. Six months of waiting for a call to say she was okay and back home. But it never came. Brody and the team had said they were on it, and I’d given them all the information I knew from when I was staying with her at college. But they’d come up with nothing.
And yet again, it meant Garza had won. It was because of him I’d had to go underground and for all intents and purposes, cease to exist. The goal was to get the cartel to back off, and it had worked, but in the process, we’d all lost Belle. I’d been gone for five months, and although I’d had little contact with Brody, I hoped Belle had come home.
But she hadn’t.
So for the last four weeks, I’d debated back and forth what I could do and how I could find her, but I’d come up empty every single time. The guys said they’d followed every possible lead, and they’d tracked her onto the highway, but then she’d disappeared. Just. Like. That.
And after talking to Aria, and finding out what happened the day of my fake memorial, I knew she hadn’t been taken. She’d run away. She’d escaped. If she didn’t want to be found, she wouldn’t.
She’d grown up around men who had taught her things, whether we were aware or not. She’d learned how to be invisible. She’d learned how to cover her tracks. And I had no doubt that was what she was doing.
I’d been on my way home from watching the activity on a house all night for our current case when Lola had called. I hadn’t been able to make sense of her hurried words at first, but after she’d repeated them, I’d sped to her house.
Brody hadn’t called me, and although I knew it was because he was acting on instinct and so he could get to Belle as quickly as possible, it still didn’t sit right with me. I’d been back at work properly for a month, but I’d only been given small cases to work. Brody said he was easing me back into work, but he was being cautious. We thought the threat was gone, but we knew it never truly would be. Garza would still be hanging over our heads, whether it was obvious or not.
But I couldn’t live my life afraid of what could happen. I hadn’t so far, and I didn’t intend to start now. So I waited with Lola for hours to hear an update, and when Brody finally called to tell her Belle was in a bad way and that they were at the offices, we didn’t hesitate to go there and find out exactly what was going on. Nothing would keep me away from seeing her, not a single thing.
The last time I’d seen her, she’d begged me not to leave, and although I knew it was the right thing to do, it didn’t mean I didn’t regret it almost every day. If I’d just stayed with her, things would have been so different.
So when her blue eyes captured mine and threatened to never let go again, I wasn’t sure what to think. Her face was swollen, her one eye closed, and as I tracked my gaze down her, I saw the light purple bruising starting to come out on her neck, and the cast on her arm. She was hurt, and I hated seeing her like that. I wanted to decimate the person who’d done this to her.
Lola helped Belle stand, and my nostrils flared. Someone was talking, Brody was saying something, and Jord was standing a couple of feet away from me, but I couldn’t take my gaze off Belle. I was afraid if I did, she’d disappear.
“Ford?” she asked again and shook her head as if she was dreaming. I knew exactly how she felt. She was so close, and yet, she felt so far away.
“Hey, Baby Belle,” I greeted, my voice cracking.
Her hand covered her mouth, and I tracked a tear as it slipped down her cheek, a tear I craved to flick away. Lola said something to her, holding her arm, but Belle shook her head again and moved forward, out of Lola’s grip.
She took three steps and didn’t speak as she waited for Brody to move out of the doorway, and as soon as he did, she ran across the hallway and flung herself at me. I didn’t hesitate to catch her, and as soon as my hands made contact with her body, I knew I’d never let her go again. Life was too short to deny yourself of the things you loved, and that was what she was. I loved her more than I should have.
“I can’t believe it’s you,” she whispered in my ear, and it was only then that I came crashing down to earth and realized the way she was standing with her body bowed forward. She was in pain, and here I was, trying to crush her to me so she’d never let go.
I pulled back and placed my hands on her shoulders. “You look a little rough,” I told her, trying to make a joke of it. Inside, I was a raging bull staring at a piece of red material waiting to charge at it.
“Just a little,” she replied and continued to stare at me. I’d never get enough of her. I’d never get fed up of looking into her eyes and wondering what she was thinking. We’d been apart for so long, and it had solidified exactly how I felt. I’d never doubted it before, but I now realized I’d made a mistake the day I’d walked away from her. I should have stayed. Stayed and fought for us.
“She’s what?” Lola asked, and her sharp tone had both Belle and me freezing. I wasn’t sure what she’d told them about us, or even if she’d told them anything at all, but I was preparing myself for the firing line. I’d given up on us before, but I’d never do that again.
