Chapter 14 #2
At my desk, I try to focus on the paperwork in front of me—the APB Frank put out for Mac, the statements from the warehouse shootout, the forensic report on the shell casings we recovered.
But my mind keeps circling back to Julia.
I exhale sharply, shoving the thoughts aside as I turn to my computer, logging into the county database. If Mac took a bullet in the arm, he’ll need medical attention sooner or later. I cross-reference nearby hospitals, urgent care centers, and even small-town clinics in neighboring counties.
Nothing under his name. No gunshot wound admissions matching his description. But that doesn’t mean much—he’s too smart to use his real ID.
I pick up the phone and start making calls, posing as an officer inquiring about recent patients with gunshot wounds in the shoulder or upper arm area.
Most hospitals won’t release information without a subpoena, but I find a nurse willing to talk at a clinic two towns over.
“We had someone come in last night, fits your description. Agitated, wouldn’t give a real name.
But he left before we could do much for him. ”
I press the phone tighter to my ear. “Do you have security footage?”
A pause. “I’d need a warrant to give it to you, but… unofficially? You might want to check near the truck stop on Route 19. He left in a hurry.”
I jot the information down, thanking her before hanging up.
If Mac was spotted, it means he’s still close.
I move to Frank’s office, updating him on the lead. “Put a patrol near Route 19. He’s desperate, and if he’s injured, he won’t get far.”
Frank nods, already picking up the radio.
I scrub a hand down my face. I should feel relieved we have a direction to track him, but that nagging voice in my head won’t let me rest.
Julia’s words play over and over.
Every day that I don’t tell him, it gets worse.
I need to know the truth.
But first, I need to make damn sure the fair is safe.
I spend the next hour calling in extra personnel, arranging patrols around the fairgrounds. If Mac so much as breathes in the wrong direction, we’ll be ready.
Once I’m satisfied, I check the time. Just a few more hours until I see Julia again. And this time, I won’t let the questions linger.
Tonight, I need answers.
The annual fair in Seaside Bluff is a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds that seemed to pulse with the heartbeat of the town. Neon lights strung across the midway cast a vibrant glow, painting the night in hues of pink, blue, and gold.
Laughter and music mingled with the salty breeze rolling in from the ocean, creating a symphony that was both chaotic and comforting. It was a night like any other, yet it felt different—charged with an undercurrent of anticipation I couldn’t quite name.
Lily tugged Julia’s hand with the kind of excitement only a six-year-old could muster, her small fingers pulling her toward the carousel. Its painted horses spun in a hypnotic rhythm, their manes shimmering under the lights.
Julia’s laughter was infectious, her bright green eyes sparkling as she indulged her daughter’s enthusiasm. She looked every bit the woman I’d fallen for years ago—petite, curvy, and radiant, her dirty blonde hair falling in loose waves just past her shoulders.
The form-fitting leggings and tank top she wore hugged her curves, and the delicate silver pendant around her neck—a locket with Lily’s photo—caught the light as she moved.
Tonya trailed behind, her steps slower, her presence a quiet reminder of the fragility of life. She was still healing, her body bearing the scars of a recent accident, but Lily’s persistence was hard to resist.
Eventually, she relented, her smile warm but tinged with fatigue. “Alright, alright,” she said, raising her hands in mock surrender. “I’ll come. But if I fall off one of these rides, I’m blaming you, Lily.”
I watched them, my gaze lingering on Julia. She was the reason I’d agreed to this outing, though I’d never admit it. Seven years ago, she’d left Seaside Bluff without a word, taking with her a piece of my heart.
Her return had been a shock, a storm I hadn’t seen coming. And now, here we were, navigating the awkward dance of two people who’d once loved each other deeply but were now strangers in many ways.
The night unfolded better than I’d expected. Lily’s laughter was a balm, her innocence a reminder of what mattered most. Julia and I stole touches —subtle, almost imperceptible—her fingers brushing against mine as we passed tickets, my hand resting briefly on her waist as I helped her onto a ride.
The tension between us crackled like the neon lights overhead, a silent current that neither of us acknowledged but both of us felt. But as the night wore on, Tonya decided she’d had enough.
“I’ll take Lily home,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. Her eyes met mine, and there was a knowing look in them, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension between Julia and me.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she added with a wink, her tone teasing but her expression serious.
Julia hesitated, her gaze flicking between Tonya and me. Lily wrapped her arms around her leg, looking up with wide, hopeful eyes. “You’ll be home soon?” she asked, her voice small and trusting.
Julia knelt, brushing a strand of hair from Lily’s face. “Soon, baby,” she promised, her voice soft but steady. She kissed the top of her head, her touch tender, before standing and meeting my gaze.
For a moment, the world seemed to pause, the noise of the fair fading into the background.
Tonya led Lily away, her arm draped protectively around the little girl’s shoulders.
I watched them go, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me. When I turned back to Julia, the air between us shifted. The fairgrounds, once a backdrop of chaos and joy, now felt intimate, almost private.
I closed the distance between us, my steps deliberate. “You feel it too, don’t you?” I murmured, my voice low and rough. My finger traced the curve of her arm, the fabric of her tank top thin enough that I could feel the warmth of her skin beneath.
Her gaze met mine, her lips parting slightly as if to speak. “Logan…” she started, but I didn’t let her finish. I pulled her close, guiding her behind a darkened vendor tent, pressing her back against the cool canvas.
She gasped, the sound soft and startled, and I swallowed it with a kiss, my lips claiming hers.
She melted against me, her hands tangling in my hair, pulling me tighter. My restraint shattered.
I lifted her, holding her against me as our kisses grew desperate, hungry. Her fingers clawed at my shirt, her nails biting into my skin through the fabric. The scent of her —a mix of coconut lotion and the faint salt of the sea—filled my senses, dragging me back to a time when we were inseparable.
“We can’t,” she panted, her breath hot against my lips. “Not here.”
I nipped at her lower lip, my voice raw with need. “Then tell me to stop.”
She didn’t.
Instead, she pulled me closer, her body arching into mine. The fairgrounds seemed to disappear, the noise of the crowd fading into a distant hum.