2. Long Beach #2
Who was I kidding? I’d gotten so obsessed with Willow’s safety that Uncle Nolan put me on a 72-hour psychiatric hold.
At least I volunteered to be committed that time.
I’d wanted to save Willow from Cam. That idiot had the worst case of survivor’s guilt.
Camdyn—two years older than me—didn’t get snatched into that car at the park.
Back then, though, she needed saving from Camdyn, but she’d done a heck of a better job at rescuing herself than I did, falling into a full-on psychosis.
A soft chuckle escaped me as I took a sip, my thoughts drifting to Jordyn.
Jordyn . Jordyn . Jordyn . I’d only known her for a short time, yet she’d affected me on such a visceral level that guilt and shame riddled me in therapy all my childhood.
And I tossed her and all the others into a box in my mind.
Labeled it repressed dreams. Dreams that I wouldn’t allow to consume my mind—while other nightmares took those honors.
Devi’s death seven years ago started to shatter that mental box I’d locked everything in.
Joining the military, seeing a child locked in a cage?
That finished the job. An image of Jordyn from our time in captivity burned into my memory.
Never reported. Never … missed. I’d hired an art freelancer with ties to the FBI to recreate her face from my memories—anything to help.
Nothing ever stuck. No child on the national missing persons sites, not even the FBI’s own database, looked like the girl in my mind.
Like Jordyn.
Was there hospital documentation of her birth? Had she been in school before someone took her? She was five when I met her. I was six. We’d never talked much. Too afraid of bringing attention our way. So, it took some real investigative work for me to find?—
A body slipped into the seat at my side. Without looking, I muttered, “Took you long enough.”
Leith snorted. “You’re aware of Michie’s attraction to my wife during Chevelle’s bartending stint here?”
“Yep.” Might’ve been fifteen, but I remembered.
A scoff. “Our restaurant is a couple of blocks over. You remember?”
“Yes, sir.” Drink to my lips, I chuckled. “Had to see if you really cared. You know, besides your intervention speech.”
“Stop calling it an?—”
“Enlighten me, then?”
Leith jutted a shoulder. “An attempt to see my little bràthair . Okay, an intervention of sorts. It just didn’t go down right. We were, all of us, just telling you that you’re … loved.”
It shouldn’t have gone down at all. I’d only wanted a slab of baby back ribs, same as everyone else on this sunny holiday. There was a place nearby—best barbecue in all of SoCal.
Big mistake.
Coming to my hometown to satisfy a simple craving. That was asking for trouble. Someone in my family must’ve seen me and called the cavalry. Next thing I knew, I was surrounded by five MacKenzies, relatives I’d cut ties with. I’d gone with them to avoid a scene.
“We’re worried about you!”
I chuckled, retrieved a photo from my wallet, and handed it over.
“You-you’re a Marine? How?”
“Don’t bring up the medication, or I’ll conclude this discourse.”
“Discourse? You still sound like my weird little brother,” Leith muttered, then raised his palms. “Okay. How many years? I’m proud of you.”
“Seven. And I don’t mind you calling me weird.
When the others do … it sounds different.
” Insulting. “And actually, let’s talk pills—bear with me.
I have to set the story first. Do you recall Camdyn’s friends?
That scrappy girl, Tatum, and that other boy?
” I recalled the underground mixed-martial arts fighter’s name, just didn’t like the dude.
“Vaguely. You and Cam are closer in age.”
“True. You want a drink?”
“At my restaurant.” Leith snagged a bowl of nuts that I wouldn’t touch with a stick.
Community food. Ugh . I thought the Marines would relieve me of my neat-freak ways, but I maintained a clean demeanor. Just hated getting blood on my camo and carrier plate. “Tatum got herself into some trouble.”
“How? She was your and Camdyn’s bud?—”
“Camdyn’s buddy.”
“Okay, I get that you still fixate on technicalities. She was a cop then, right? What does she, or any of this, have to do with the … ahem , pills—since you’re allowing me to say that.”
“We’re getting to that point. Doesn’t matter that Tatum was a cop, she manipulated the law in ways that reminded me of some unsavory characters that I unfortunately know.
” I took another sip, hiding a frown of guilt.
Bubbles tickled me more than my own acerbic tone.
“Tatum Li’s actions cost the life of a girl on the street.
I asked the girl to go with me. Leave that life. ”
“What life? Was she Tatum’s CI?”
“Confidential informant? Nah. Just your run-of-the-mill prostitute, over in LA. Tatum paid Devi to wear a wire for her own needs. Her man’s needs. I’d agreed to guard Devi while she got some information Tatum wanted from a rich pedo. She died.”
“Wait … that was the year you ghosted us? Began to hate us?”
Hate ? No. That wasn’t it. Not really. I stared at the drink in my hand, watching the soda tilt and settle. I didn’t drink anymore, and alcohol never gave me the right words anyway. “Felt smothered by Mam,” I said slowly. “Not enough for the rest of you, either. But I never hated any of you.”
Leith blinked, silent.
“I didn’t have the language for it back then,” I went on, voice low, raw. “Just this fog … this pressure in my chest. Couldn’t breathe. You lot were loud. Close. Tight. I was coming apart, and I didn’t know how to ask for air without sounding ungrateful.”
I shook the daze of truth from my eyes. “Devi’s death gutted me.
” But even that hadn’t been the whole of it.
Something else had hollowed me out back then.
Something I hadn’t been able to name, not until years later.
“After Devi, I paired a cocktail of every medication—big pills, tiny pills. You name it, I paired it with a fresh bottle of tequila.”
“I’m sorry, br?—”
“So, that concludes our medication discussion.” I turned in my seat and propped on an elbow to stare at my brother.
“And no more apologies. I flatlined in the ambulance.” My hand ran over the back of my neck.
“The second I got released, I did what was necessary to fill the Marine Corps requirements, which meant scrubbing the psych holds from my medical profile online. Got my rear handed to me so many times in six-man kill teams, four-man teams, clawed my way through a few solo ops. I’m not that scared little boy anymore, Leith. ”
“I’m so glad to hear that you went away and had a chance to grow up.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair.
“Oorah, baby!” I lifted my drink in mock salute because I wasn’t all that interested in turning this moment into one of brotherly bonding. This wasn’t a social call. “I retired from the Marines half a year ago. After I saw a girl in a cage, it sorta put things into perspective.”
“You remembered the kids?”
I nodded. Yep. That was the moment it clicked. The feeling I couldn’t name before—why I’d pushed everyone away, why nothing filled that void. That was Jordyn. “I’ve created a list. Accomplished every task, except for one.”
Leith leaned back, lost in thought, and remarked, “You found the captives? All but one? Now you want to rescue them?”
“Technically, they’re safe. For the most part.
Two boys, four girls. Easy jobs. After being traded for sex, some of them were servants.
They were held against their will all this time.
Many of their owners weren’t rich enough for the type of surveillance that might necessitate a team.
I extracted five, all on my own. Except for one boy.
” Though rarely showing emotion, I shifted in my seat, anger simmering beneath a calm exterior.
“Ignacio did what I did. He didn’t fail, though. ”
“Suicide?” Leith winced. “That still leaves one kid left? The other boy or another girl?”
“Jordyn.” The only girl who understands me .