My cheeks flushed and my chin lifted higher as the resolve built in my chest. “Maybe he plays fast and loose with the rules sometimes. Maybe he makes them up as he goes along and does what he thinks is best in any given situation, but I know he would never do anything that would result in anybody getting hurt.”
“Are you included in that anybody?” she asked, the corners of her mouth tipping up. “Because if you are and he’s not ghosting you to hurt you, then where the hell is he?”
“That’s what I plan on finding out.”
Haley’s smile widened. “There’s my girl. I almost didn’t recognize you for a minute there.”
“Thanks for making me realize that I couldn’t keep sitting back anymore. I know it’s only been a few days, but I really shouldn’t have been having a pity party because no one would speak to me.”
“That’s what friends are for.” She scooted forward on her chair and propped her elbows on the counter, rubbing her palms together like an evil villain coming up with a plan might. “So what are we going to do? Should we go to Lincoln’s house first? Maybe we can catch him there and demand answers.”
“I’ve tried that. He’s not there. I went to the hotel he used to stay at, too. No dice.” Frustration hardened my voice. “Where else could I try? Any ideas?”
“One,” she said, amusement flashing in her eyes. “Maybe your dad shipped him off overseas.”
It was meant to be a joke, but something clicked into place in my head. “Maybe not overseas, but what if Dad had him shipped off somewhere for real?”
Haley’s amusement vanished in an instant and her eyes widened to the point that I could see the whites all the way around her irises. “Do you really think so?”
“I don’t know, but I have to speak to my dad. He’s been avoiding me, and I think we might just have figured out why.”
Chapter 33
Lincoln
The sour smell of old stale sweat and piss hung heavily in the air in my holding cell. It invaded my nostrils every time I took a breath.
Fluorescent lighting hummed above my head, flickering more than it actually provided light. My shoes scuffed across the smooth concrete floor as I paced. Black lines from rubber soles and nicks in the concrete told me I wasn’t the first one unable to sit still in there.
The windows had thick bars in front of them, like we were all hardened criminals who were going to try our hands at escaping. The sting of the handcuffs they’d slapped on me days ago still burned at my wrists, but I was pretty sure I was just imagining it at this point.
With my mood flipping violently from extreme to extreme, I was shitty company to anyone who had the misfortune of being dumped in this cell with me. Lucky for them, they came and went within hours.
I was the only one who had occupied this hellhole consistently in the time I’d been there. Thousands of questions sped through my mind, but no one was around to answer them.
The guards were built like solid bookshelves and had the personality of them, too. During my first day, I kept expecting someone to come talk to me. I’d gotten all the facts straight in my head and was more than ready for my statement to be taken.
Unfortunately for me, no one seemed interested in taking it. The guards refused to answer any of my questions, though one had told me the officers would come by when they were “goddamned ready” to.
The cot in the cell was made of metal rungs that dug into my ass when I sat and my back when I tried sleeping. The thin, threadbare mattress and blanket they had generously provided didn’t do shit to help with the discomfort.
And this was coming from someone who was used to sleeping under far worse conditions than this. I’d slept on surfaces ranging from concrete floors just like this one to sand under the stars in faraway lands, and not once had it kept me from getting in at least a few hours.
This time, however, I wasn’t so lucky. I’d tried the floor, but it was my mind keeping me from really getting much sleep more than my surroundings. I could’ve dealt with everything, but the one thing I wasn’t doing well with was not being able to tell Sofia where I was.
God only knew what she was thinking at this point, but I doubted it was good. My only hope was that she knew me well enough by now to know that I hadn’t just left her behind without a word.
The woman consumed my every thought. Even those concerning my future in the Navy.
Whatever happened from there on out, she would play a role in the decisions I made. If having this time to think had done anything good for me, it was that I’d realized I couldn’t let her go. I knew she had to go back to campus to finish her studies, and I was hopeful that once this shit show was over, I’d be deployed again.
But as far as I was concerned, neither of those things dictated our future together. Because we would fucking have one.
We had to.
As unlikely as it might be, I was absolutely and unequivocally in love with her. No one and nothing would keep us apart. Unless of course, she didn’t want to be with me, in which case I’d have to drown myself in a vat of whiskey like every other heartbroken man did before he figured out what the hell to do with himself next.
If, however, she did want me, I would apply every ounce of focus I had to our relationship. My missions had taught me that nothing was impossible if I applied myself,
