Chapter 34 #2
Glancing toward the bar, I search for a flash of pink hair, wanting to pull Cassidy into my arms and tell her what she’s done. Then I remember her pink is gone. My head drops. Not just about her hair color, but she isn’t here. It’s in this moment I realize how lopsided all of this is.
Cassidy bared her soul to me. She told me about the assault, the scars, and the father she lost to a broken heart. She shares her secrets and somehow finds the strength to keep moving, to keep growing.
And I’ve given her nothing.
I’m suffocating under the weight of Isla’s disappearance, trapped in a life that refuses to move forward, and yet this woman... every time we’re together, she heals another piece of me she didn’t even know was broken.
And what do I do? I push her away to protect her while I wither in the dark. I stare at her message again.
Look into this one. It doesn’t belong here.
Underneath is a phone number. A single, solitary string of digits.
She’d found the outlier.
She’s giving me the keys to the kingdom, and I’m standing here with a glass of scotch and a shattered heart, wondering if I’m even worthy of the help.
I need to find her. I need to tell her. But more than that, I need to figure out how to be the man who deserves the strong, smart, beautiful woman who did all the things I couldn’t.
The office is sterile, the morning sun cutting through the floor-to-ceiling glass like a beacon. I’m at my desk, but I’m not working. I’m barely existing in the wreckage of the previous night.
I should’ve known better. I’ve let Isla down. I’ve let my parents down. And after the way I’ve treated Cassidy, I’ve let myself down too. But Cass is the one person on the planet who calms the noise.
I need her.
Loretta enters without knocking. She’s usually a whirlwind of schedules and sharp-tongued reminders, but today she’s stoic. This overworked den mother takes one look at me, and the pity in her eyes feels like a fresh bruise.
Loretta shuts the door and sits across from me, folding her hands in her lap. “Max, I wasn’t hired to be your mother,” she starts, her voice eerily calm. “But by the looks of things, she may not be able to help you the way you need.”
I narrow my eyes, my temper flickering like a brush fire on the edge of a five-alarm forest fire. I steeple my fingers in front of me. “Loretta, what are you talking about?”
“Take a look around, Max.” She waves her arms toward the sleek, empty surfaces.
“There are no pictures. This place is completely devoid of any reference to family or friends. I wouldn’t think you had any if it weren’t for Frank darting in and out.
And you... you look like you’ve been on a bender.
Do you have a drinking problem I don’t know about? ”
“No,” I snap, the word echoing off the glass.
“Your eyes have huge dark bags under them. They’re bloodshot. Your skin is pale,” she continues, unfazed by my outburst. “You look like you haven’t eaten or slept in days, much less seen the light of the sun.”
I stare at her. My jaw is tight. What is her point? That I’m falling apart? Duh. News flash. I’m well aware.
“Well, have you?” she asks.
“No,” I mutter, the defiance leaking out of me.
Her voice drops, turning into something much softer, a tone I haven’t heard from her in all the years she’s worked for me. “Max. I love you like you were my own son. I’d do anything for you.” Her sad eyes glisten with tears. “I’m really worried about you.”
My face falls. I drop my head into my hands, my fingers digging into my scalp.
I try desperately to keep from losing it.
I’ve carried the weight of Isla’s disappearance for so long.
My father lives in a fortress of denial, and my mother is skating the outer edges of sanity before tumbling into clinical depression.
I’ve channeled every ounce of my soul into this business, trying to outrun my demons.
But my guilt over not finding Isla is killing me.
“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” I choke out, the words feeling like shards of glass in my throat.
“What, son?” she asks gently.
“Being the only one left who’s still fighting for her,” I whisper. “The one who has to stay strong while everyone else dissolves. I’m tired, Loretta. I’m so goddamn tired.”
Loretta doesn’t move. She has the poise to sit and wait, her presence acting as a steady anchor while I drift. The care spilling from her reminds me so much of the mother I once knew. The one who used to laugh in the kitchen of our family home before her world was ripped in two.
Looking at what’s happened to my parents, and even to me, it’s no wonder Broken Heart Syndrome is a real thing.
Cassidy’s father died of it, and sometimes I feel like I’m just a slower version of the same diagnosis.
The crushing weight of our grief has made us empty shells of the humans we once were.
I look up, meeting Loretta’s kind green eyes, and I decide to go all in. “My sister disappeared about ten years ago,” I say, my voice cracking on the number.
Loretta gasps, her hand flying to her mouth.
“She went on a cruise with some college friends and never returned,” I continue, the words spilling out like a confession.
“We’ve searched and searched. We worked with the authorities here and abroad, fought that lousy cruise line, Azure Crest, who gave us the bare minimum.
We hired numerous private investigators.
My father has offered millions in reward money.
My mother has even contacted psychics. And all of it has gotten us nowhere. ”
I thumb over my shoulder to the servers humming in the next room.
“The very reason Secure Sphere exists is from the man-hours I spent attempting to find Isla. I built the company by creating cybersecurity software specifically to track her digital ghost. Then I tried to parlay it into a profitable business just to occupy my mind so I wouldn’t spend every minute of every day on the dark web chasing leads that go nowhere. ”
I take a ragged breath. “I manage to do okay when I can keep the thoughts of Isla being lost at bay. But whenever I visit my parents, the black hole opens up and swallows me. And on top of all of that... I met someone.”
Loretta leans in, her expression softening even more.
“She has enough of her own trauma to deal with, Loretta. She certainly doesn’t need mine.
” I drag my hand down my face. “I’m not in a good place to start a healthy relationship.
But with her, I finally feel alive. However, my survivor’s guilt is a vice.
Why should I be able to enjoy a thriving business and a healthy relationship when Isla can’t?
I’m terrified if I try to reach for more before I get my shit together, it’ll only cause Cassidy more harm.
And I can’t lose one more person I care about.
” I’m starting to sound unhinged, even to my own ears.
Loretta stands, walks around my massive mahogany desk, and wraps her arms around me. She smells like peppermint and home. The home I remember. Not the awful place with a ten-year-old Christmas tree.
I have to push down the lump in my throat, my body trembling with the effort not to come completely undone in her arms.
“How does anyone move on after something like this?” I whisper into her shoulder.
“You don’t move on, Max,” she says, her voice muffled by my hair.
“You move with it. But you don’t have to carry it alone.
And that girl you found? Maybe she’s not looking for a man who has it all together.
Maybe she’s simply looking for one who knows how to stay standing even when the world is crumbling beneath him. ”
Loretta’s embrace is firm, the kind of steadying pressure that forces the air back into my lungs. She pulls back just enough to look me in the eye, an expression of maternal fierceness staring back at me.
“I wish I could tell you why such horrific things happen to good people,” she says softly.
“I’m so sorry for all you, Isla, and your parents have gone through.
It’s incredible that you were able to build something like this,” she extends her arms wide, gesturing to the glass and steel of my empire, “from your tenacity and dedication to finding her. You’ve used your grief to help so many others. ”
I look away, staring at the dust motes dancing in a shaft of morning light, trying to keep my emotions in check.
“Thank you for sharing this with me,” she adds. “You need to do a lot more of that.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can’t keep carrying all of this alone. And I know you have friends who can help you. Big, powerful friends. Let them in. You never know which of them might have an untapped resource that could help shine a light on your sister’s whereabouts. And if not, you’re no worse off than you are now.”
Hell. She’s right. The logic is sound. Why have I kept this buried? Pride? Or maybe I just wanted one safe space, like my company, where I could pretend this nightmare doesn’t exist. But if Gianni, or any of the others, have connections I haven’t reached yet, I’m a fool for not asking.
“Thank you, Loretta.”
“I’m here anytime you need me. But I think this may require more than I’m trained to do.
” I tilt my head in confusion, and she continues before I can ask.
“You need to meet with someone on a regular basis, Max. Talk this out. I’m surprised you and your parents don’t have major health issues.
No one is built to carry this amount of despair day in and day out. Have you met with a counselor?”
“Sure. In the beginning,” I mutter, the memory of those sterile offices making me itch. “But I was wound so tight, I couldn’t concentrate. My mind was always on the next lead, the next hack. I couldn’t sit still long enough to process anything.”
“Well, if this girl you’ve met is the one, she deserves to have an equal partner. Not someone who is bound for self-destruction.” She reaches up, smoothing a lock of my tousled hair before patting my shoulder. “Maybe you need to take something so you can get a good night’s sleep.”
Sleep. The word feels foreign. The last time I truly slept—deep, dreamless, restorative sleep, was with her.
It shouldn’t make sense. She had just finished telling me about the jail, the assault, and the death of her father.
We were both bleeding from old wounds, yet the moment I pulled her against me, the world went quiet.
What kind of magic does Cassidy possess? How can she lull me to sleep despite the trauma we’re both living through? This thing with her is more than simply a physical attraction. She’s the only thing that truly feels right in my world.
I look down at the note she left me. The missing piece of the puzzle she located.
Loretta is right. I can’t be the man she deserves if I’m just a ticking time bomb of survivor’s guilt. I need to get my head straight if I stand a chance with her.