Chapter 10
ten
The drive back to town was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable like the first time she’d ridden to town with Ghost. Now, the silence was almost companionable.
Naomi watched the world blur past her window, headlights chasing stripes down the blacktop as Ghost steered with one hand, knuckles pale against the wheel. His dog sat silently in the backseat, a shadow with amber eyes.
Four missing women, all vanished along this same stretch of road.
She found herself thinking about Leelee’s final night, the way the casino’s lights must’ve looked in her rearview, the unease that came from feeling a stranger’s eyes on your back. She shivered and rubbed at her arms.
Ghost glanced at her, then reached to turn up the heat without asking. And that was… kind of sweet. She hadn’t expected sweetness from a man who coated himself in ice.
“It was him,” she asked finally, breaking the silence. “The truck we saw in the security footage. That’s our guy.”
Ghost kept his eyes on the road. “It’s consistent with the other descriptions. Black pickup, tinted windows, following women from the casino. But without a plate...”
“It’s just another dead end.” She slumped back in her seat.
Someone, somewhere, had to know some-damn-thing, and frustration ate at her that she couldn’t find them.
Maybe Julius would find something.
She snorted at that. Her cousin probably forgot about it the moment she walked away from him.
He was a good guy, but he rarely followed through with anything that wasn’t about him.
He was the human equivalent of a butterfly, alighting briefly on responsibilities before flitting off to something more interesting.
“You always let Julius get to you?” Ghost asked. His voice was softer than usual, almost careful.
“What, are you a mind reader?”
“Your face changed. You had a slight scowl when we walked away from him, and it’s back. Figured you were thinking of him.”
She hadn’t realized she was that transparent. “Julius has always been... Julius. The golden child who can do no wrong in my grandmother’s eyes, even when he’s doing wrong right in front of her.”
“You sound jealous.”
“I’m not.” She wasn’t. Not really. “It’s just frustrating to watch someone skate through life without consequences while the rest of us are held to impossible standards.”
“Sounds like River,” Ghost muttered.
She knew River Beckett by reputation. The guy was a flirt, a joker—always grinning, always deflecting. Nothing like Julius’s confident swagger.
“Really? River?” she asked, genuinely confused. “They couldn’t be more different.”
Ghost’s mouth twitched in that not-quite-a-smile way. “They both like to run their mouths. Most people who do that are just noise. River is not. Neither is Julius. I got the impression he’s playing a game.”
“Yeah,” she said, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “He’s always playing a game. Usually three or four at once.”
She glanced over, trying to get a read. Ghost looked almost relaxed, posture looser than usual. Maybe it was the late hour, or maybe the absence of other eyes.
“Why are you really doing this?” she asked, the question out before she could stop it. “Chasing after missing women, even when nobody else gives a shit?”
He didn’t answer at first. The truck’s engine filled the quiet.
Finally, he said, “Doesn’t matter what I want. Or why. I see the pattern. I can’t ignore it.”
She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.
So she tried again. “You ever have anyone go missing on you?”
That got a reaction—a barely perceptible tightening of his jaw—but he didn’t respond.
“I did,” she said before he could shut her out again.
“My cousin. Mary Rose. She was seventeen. Disappeared after a party, and nobody did a damn thing. Not the sheriff, not the tribal police. They just… stopped looking and— She bit back the rest, swallowing the old bitterness. “It’s why I went into the FBI. Not because I thought I could find her, but I needed to do something. I needed to make sure the next Mary Rose wasn’t forgotten. ”
“You get her back?” he asked.
“No, she’s still gone.”
Ghost didn’t apologize, didn’t try to fill the silence. Just kept driving, and she couldn’t decide if she liked him for that or not.
They turned down the road to her rental, the gravel popping under the tires. The night was full of crickets and the far-off hoot of an owl. Her porch light glowed at the end of the drive, a little island in the dark.
She hesitated, not ready to get out yet. “What about you?”
He parked but didn’t kill the engine. “What about me?”
“Family. You have an annoying but loveable cousin like Julius?”
He stared out the windshield, the dashboard lights painting his profile in shades of blue. “No,” he said finally. “No family. Never had one.”
“What, were you hatched fully formed from a secret government lab?”
For a second, she thought she’d pushed too far, but then he surprised her with a small, honest laugh. “Might as well have been. State-run foster homes. Moved every year or two. Nobody ever stuck around long enough to matter.”
“That’s…” She stopped, at a loss for words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to joke.”
“Don’t be. It’s easier, not belonging anywhere.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe that.”
He looked at her then, and the air in the cab went brittle. She was suddenly aware of how close they were—two feet, maybe less, and she could see the flecks of silver in his eyes, the faint scar across his eyebrow.
“You ever get tired of being alone?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
He swallowed, and for the first time since she’d met him, she saw the mask slip. Just a second—a flash of longing, of old wounds—but then that hard, implacable expression was back.
“No,” he said.
“Liar,” she shot back.
He didn’t deny it, and silence fell between them.
They sat like that in the dark, the engine ticking, neither one willing to move.
She wasn’t sure what would happen if she leaned over, closed the gap.
Part of her wanted to find out. The rest of her was scared to death she already knew exactly what would happen, because when she glanced over at him, she saw the flare of heat in those ice-gray eyes.
Those impossible, unforgettable eyes were filled with a wanting so sharp, it was a blade that seemed to slice right through all of her defenses.
Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. Every angry, jagged edge inside her fused into something molten, as all her stubbornness, hurt, and hunger zeroed in on this one implacable man.
He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just watched her, every muscle coiled, braced against whatever came next.
She should’ve pulled away. Should’ve broken the moment with a joke or a jab, anything to put the armor back up. But her brain had shorted out. All she could do was stare back, her heart pounding so loud that she was sure he heard it.
If she leaned, just a little—
The air between them crackled.
Ghost’s gaze dropped to her mouth. Lingered.
He leaned in, just enough that her breath tangled with his, just enough to make her ache.
His eyes locked on her mouth like he was memorizing it, mapping every line, every tremor.
Her hand curled on the seat between them, gripping the vinyl.
All she had to do was close the gap. Less than an inch. Half that.
Her heart thundered, desperate and reckless. Please, she thought, but couldn’t say it out loud.
At the last second, he went still.
One heartbeat. Two.
He exhaled, jaw so tight it was a wonder it didn’t crack. Then he pulled back.
Naomi sucked in air. Tried not to show the shiver. Tried harder not to hate that empty space he left.
After what felt like forever, she pulled the handle and climbed out. But she ached in places that hadn’t ached in a long time, and she wasn’t a coward, so she turned back. “Do you… want to come in?”
He shook his head, even as his eyes lingered on her mouth. “You get some sleep. I’ll come back in the morning.”
She nodded, stepping away, letting the truck’s lights chase her up the porch. She heard him reverse down the drive, the rumble fading as he disappeared.
Inside, she closed the door behind her and rested her forehead against the wood, trying to slow her heartbeat.
She should be relieved he’d turned her down. It was a good thing. She didn’t need complications in her life right now. Especially not one massive complication of a man who walled himself off like he was hiding nuclear codes inside his chest.