Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
Logan
Two days later, I woke up in my bed, gasping for air, and with the phantom taste of Clay lingering on my lips. I’d been hoping that my dreams about Clay would eventually fade away as the distance between us remained, but it was going on a year now since I’d parted from him, and the dreams only seemed to be getting more frequent. They’d be driving me insane if I didn’t enjoy them so much. I’d considered cutting contact with him to solve the problem—out of sight out of mind, as the saying goes—but I couldn’t bear to do such a thing. Not only did I look forward to his video calls, but I knew suddenly disappearing would also hurt him. I wouldn’t be able to explain why I needed to cut contact. To Clay, it would seem like I suddenly ghosted him for no reason.
No. I couldn’t do that to him. He’d been hurt and abandoned by enough people in his life. I didn’t need to add myself to that list.
So, I dutifully maintained our weekly video calls and tried to ignore the effects of my dreams as much as possible.
I glanced at the clock. It wasn’t time for me to get up yet, but there also wasn’t enough time for me to go back to sleep. In the end, I decided to just start my day early. Arriving at the office before my shift started wasn’t going to do any harm, and maybe I could get a head start on the endless paperwork that waited for me.
The FPA office was never empty, but so early in the morning, there weren’t many people either. After dropping my stuff off at my desk, I noticed the light on in Mason’s office. Mason Wright was always the first to arrive and the last to leave every day. I had no idea how he managed to find time for a life outside his job, but every rumor about him said that he was also a dutiful family man.
Since he was also Roland’s brother, I could personally attest that these rumors about our leader were accurate.
With so few people in the office, it would be a good time to give Mason an account of our recent mission. It had been a day and a half since we rescued several kids from being kidnapped and brought four members of the Bell ringers to justice, one way or another. By now, Mason must have already received the details about everything that happened from Agent Stayner, but I knew he would also want to hear a firsthand account directly from me. So, I knocked on his door then poked my head inside.
He was on the phone and pointed over to the corner of his office in a silent order for me to wait. I stepped aside and closed the door behind me, ready to wait as long as necessary. Any call Mason took on the office phone had to be important, because he only gave that number out for official business.
I occupied myself counting the cracks in the ceiling, until Mason’s conversation caught my attention.
Maryland?
Why was he talking about Maryland?
Listening in, I couldn’t tell what the conversation was about, but it seemed to include a list of different places all over the country.
Nearly ten minutes later, I was bursting with curiosity when he finally hung up the phone.
“Logan. I assume this is about your recent mission. I’ve got the report right here. So, how’d it go? Seems like it was even more successful than we expected.”
“Oh, uh, yeah.” The conversation I overheard had completely derailed my thoughts process, and I struggled to remember why I’d even stepped into the office.
I gave Mason a basic summary of what had happened the other night, but I barely paid attention to what I was saying.
One word resonated over and over in my mind.
Maryland.
When I finished, Mason thanked me and casually dismissed me from his office, but I hung near the door, debating with myself.
“Um, Mason,” I said before I’d fully decided to open my mouth. “What was that call about earlier? It seemed… important.”
I expected to be ignored, or maybe outright scolded for being nosy, but instead Mason just sighed and ran an exasperated hand through his hair before staring forlornly at his phone.
“We’ve been making a lot of progress with this Bell ringer case.”
“Okay? And that’s a good thing, so what’s the problem?”
He sighed again, and for the first time, I noticed slivers of gray at his temples. He wasn’t old, but he was no longer a young man either. Being the leader of the FPA was difficult under normal conditions, but with the extra workload we’d had recently, he was obviously feeling the strain.
“Success is good, yes. But the aftermath often leaves us with a lot of victims that need to be taken care of. Even this most recent mission brought us two extra victims we weren’t expecting.”
The image of the two children I’d pulled out of the van flashed before my eyes, and I could still feel their weight in my arms.
“Yes, we’re saving people. Kids. That’s our job.”
I still wasn’t seeing the problem. Mason was talking about our success as if it was a bad thing.
Did he want us to not save people?
“Our job is about more than just protecting them for a single moment. It’s in the job description. Protect and serve. Protecting is easy, but serving is a lot more difficult. Many of these victims don’t have families that can take care of them. We have to find some place for them, but resources are limited. Most care homes and foster facilities aren’t equipped for the type of severe trauma that the victims we rescue are suffering from, and the facilities that can handle it are already filled to capacity. To put it simply, we’re running out of safe places to put the victims we rescue.”
His earlier conversation that I’d overheard finally made more sense, though I was still confused about the location.
“So, you’re reaching out to other facilities for help to find placement for the victims. But why go so far as Maryland?”
Mason’s desk was always immaculately clean. He never took out more than one thing at a time, and always put it back before moving on to something else. When he pulled out, not one, but three different folders and spread them over his desk simultaneously, I knew he was stressed.
“We aren’t the only ones facing this problem. The recent combined efforts on the Bell ringer case have caused a similar over-taxation of resources in many areas. We’re having to look farther and farther away to find accommodation for victims. Those kids you saved the other day need to be placed somewhere, and a facility in Maryland is the closest place I’ve found with vacancies.”
Gritting his teeth and growling low under his breath, he slammed one of the files closed, nearly knocking it right off the desk.
“At least, that’s the plan. Getting them to Maryland is proving to be nearly impossible. There’s no budget for three last minute plane tickets since their caseworker has to go with them. A long car trip will be stressful for them, but it’s looking like the only option.”
This wasn’t part of my job. Finding safe placement for victims was someone else’s responsibility. I should have just turned around and walked out of the office door.
But I didn’t, and I wasn’t even surprised with myself.
“I can fly them to Maryland.”
“Huh?” Mason looked at me with a confused expression.
“I can fly them to Maryland. The kids and the caseworker. I’m still licensed to fly since I served in the Air Force. Plus, I’ve got some old buddies from my time serving that still owe me a favor. I can probably convince them to lend me the use of a plane.” I approached the desk with my hands held out in a beseeching gesture, practically begging Mason to agree with me.
“It’ll be easier for everyone this way. The caseworker won’t be overwhelmed taking care of two kids alone, and the kids already know me since I was the one who rescued them. We can have them relocated in just a couple of hours.”
Mason ran his hands through his hair again. If he kept it up, he was going to go bald as well as gray.
“This is more than I should be asking of you, but I also can’t afford to turn you down. All right. I’ll redirect any new cases to give you some time free and see if I can scrape any funds together, so you don’t have to pay for everything out of pocket.”
It took another hour to plan out all the details, and when I left Mason’s office, I was scheduled to get on a plane the very next day.
By then, more people had arrived at the office. I turned and headed straight for the door that led to the building’s rooftop staircase. Along the way I nodded to people, and exchanged friendly greetings, but if asked later, I couldn’t have said who I encountered. My body was on autopilot, and my brain was a dizzying whirlwind of thoughts that kept flying around but refused to land long enough for me to focus on them.
On the roof, a strong wind whipped at my hair and made my eyes water as I looked out over the city. In the distance, I could just see the Mississippi River and the twin peaks of the Horace Wilkinson Bridge that stretched across it. The bridge was usually a dull iron gray, but in the morning sunlight it seemed to glow as if made from pure copper.
My phone sat cold and lifeless in my hand. At first, I’d thought to call Clay and tell him I was going to be making a trip to Maryland, but I changed my mind before hitting a single button.
Mason was fooled, and so was everyone else, but I couldn’t fool myself. Volunteering to make the trip to Maryland wasn’t a selfless act for the sake of helping victims. I’d barely even thought about those kids when I made the suggestion.
No.
Only one thought had been in my mind.
If I went to Maryland, there was a chance I might see Clay again.
It was selfish. He was building a life of his own. He didn’t need me to show up out of the blue. Especially after the dreams I’d been having about him. Even if I kept the nature of my dreams a secret and never told a soul, they would still be in the back of my mind when I saw him again.
Would I be able to keep my cool and pretend like nothing had changed?
That I wasn’t constantly thinking about him in ways that he hadn’t consented to?
Maybe.
If I was any sort of decent person I would go back into Mason’s office and offer to find someone else to make the flight to Maryland. I would keep myself far away from Clay and only talk to him through the safety of a video call and many miles between us.
But I wouldn’t. At this point, I couldn’t. The idea of going to Maryland was like a siren’s call, luring me from the safety of my home and tow myself upon the dangerous rocks of a distant shore.
I wouldn’t make any plans, or even tell Clay I was coming, but somehow, I knew I’d end up meeting him anyway. That was how fate always worked, placing you in the path of the one thing you should stay away from.
I should be disgusted with myself, but all I felt was excited at the prospect of finally laying my eyes on him again.