"I walk," she said. "It's not far enough to drive."
"Then let me walk with you."
She paused just for a moment, her eyes locking onto his, and a slow smile mirrored his.
"If you'd like to."
He stood and took her hand.
"Have my car ready when I get back," he said to his men and then nodded.
They hadn't gotten used to her. They watched her with the kind of caution he should have been feeling.
He walked her out into the cool night and held her hand as they made their way down the sidewalk. This was the way she had gone when he’d chased her, and he wondered how much farther he would have had to go if she hadn't stopped when she did. That was the first night she’d sat at his table with him. After their kiss, he’d brought her back to the bar and onto the platform. She hadn’t resisted it.
They got to the corner, and he followed her lead as she turned. After another block, she started across an alley. He didn't like that. His muscles tensed, and his shoulders squared as he looked around, making sure they were the only ones there. Alleys like that often hid the unsavory. Not like him. The lowlife scum who could only dream of living his life. They thought they were like him, but they never would be.
She paused at the bottom of steps leading up to an apartment building.
"Goodnight," she said.
"I'm not done walking you home," he said.
He guided her up the stairs, and she smiled as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she said.
It wasn't a question. More a confirmation.
"What if I'm not done seeing you tonight?" he asked, leaning down to kiss the side of her neck.
She sighed at first, tilting her head to give him more access, then tucked her head against his and moved away.
"Goodnight," she said.
"Why?" he asked.
She looked at him, her eyes searching his.
"What's your name?"
"Dragon," he said.
She shook her head. "Not what people call you. What is your name?"
His eyes narrowed at her. "Why?"
"Why do I want to know your name?" she asked with a hint of laughter in her voice.
"Yes."
"Because I want to know you. I want to know who you are."
Discomfort moved through him, battling the draw to her. It won.
"You know enough," he said.
He reached to pull her back to him, but she resisted. She pressed a hand to his chest and eased him back from her.
"Then you do, too," she said.
He didn't realize she already had the keys in her hands until the door was open, and she stepped through it. Dragon lunged at it and pulled on the handle, but it wouldn't budge. He was instantly desperate but angry. She was getting too close. He was allowing her too close. No woman knew him.
But maybe she was different.
Chapter Thirty Now
"What do you think?" Sam asks.
I hear the question, but it doesn't completely sink in.
"Huh?" I ask, turning away from the window to look at him.
He glances away from the windshield just long enough to flash me a smile.
"I asked what you think. About teaching the criminal justice class at the Community Center," he says.
The director of the project approached us right as Sam and I were starting to leave and asked if I would be interested in teaching a limited series adult education class about criminal justice. I could pick out some of my favorite cases and talk about them or pick different topics for each class. It came as such a surprise I didn't know how to respond, so she said I could have time to think about it. They weren't going to be offering the classes until later in the fall, anyway.
"Um, I'm not really sure," I tell him.
He looks over at me again, this time with a more concerned expression on his face.
"You okay?" he asks.
My hand tightens around my phone. "There's something I need to show you."
"This is seriously inconvenient," Dean grumbles.
"It's not ideal," I say.
"You're the one who jumped ship, so you aren't around anymore," Eric points out.
"Eric," Bellamy scolds.
"She didn't jump ship,” Sam says defensively. "She came home."
"Alright, enough," Dad says, interjecting in that voice that makes all of us behave even though we're grown adults. "I don't think any of us is going to try to say this is the perfect way for us to be together, but it's the only option right now. So, instead of everybody complaining and being difficult, let's just talk about what's going on.”
“Thank you,” I say. I hope he can see I'm looking at him, but I still haven't quite gotten the hang of using video chats like this. Having everybody's picture up on the screen at the same time is distracting, and I'm not sure where I'm looking at any given moment. “I'm going to put the picture up on the screen.”
I click a few commands, and the image of my computer screen shows up beside the pictures of Dean, Bellamy, Eric, and my father. I pull up the picture of Lakyn from the conference and zoom in on it.
“That's her,” Bellamy says, the words coming out in a breath.
I nod, staring at the picture of the blonde woman. She's turned to face the camera more than she was in the security footage of her walking out of the hospital with Greg, but it's unmistakable. This is the same woman with whom Greg inexplicably left the hospital after being discharged, even though he was supposed to wait for one of us. The same woman who walked across the parking lot with him then disappeared out of frame.
It's the same woman whom none of us have been able to identify, and who hasn't come forward even after news of his death featured on every media outlet for weeks. For almost a year and a half now, all of us have been trying to figure out who this woman is and what she was doing with
