Maybe I don’t want to.
Being the good girl took its toll. She loved her family and friends, wanted them to be proud of her. She loved her country and worked hard to keep it safe and protect its citizens.
But sometimes, she wanted to lay it all down for a little while—the hard work, the spotlight always on her family to be role models. Her own driving need to bring justice to the world, to set right all the wrongs that had been done to innocent people.
Especially kids like Colton had once been.
Even now, as she smoothed a finger down her braid, he didn’t rush her. Didn’t say a word, waiting. Letting that fire of his go from a slow burn to an all-out inferno.
He might have a temper, but rarely let it show, always appearing calm, cool, and composed, even when irritability was singing in his veins.
Patience had often been the hallmark of Shelby’s world. Patience with the parishioners who sucked the life out of her father, with her mother’s need to parade Shelby in front of all of Oklahoma as a girl, and with Colton and his infuriating attitude.
Patience was overrated.
She’d nearly died that night three months ago. Died before she could solve her case, but also before she could tell Colton something.
What if that something had nothing to do with the serial killer case and everything to do with her heart?
Once again, her boldness came through. “I think I’m still in love with you, Colton.”
He smirked as if he’d known that for truth all along. “That’s just the drugs talking, Shel.”
“Don’t do that.”
Challenge lit his eyes and he toyed with his glass of tea. “Do what?”
“Discredit my feelings. Or yours.”
“Sorry.” The cockiness left his features. “Habit.”
“I haven’t had any drugs since we left Premiere.”
He stared openly, as if he could reach into her brain and sift through her memories, her desires. “I know that, and honestly, it…”
“What?”
He sighed—a tired sigh, full of old scars and long, lonely nights. “It scares the crap out of me.”
Why? Because she was willing to tell the truth? “I’ve been considering the fact that the night I was shot, I asked you to meet me here for a reason that had nothing to do with my case.”
A muscle rippled along his cheekbone. “What reason could that be?”
“To ask for forgiveness.”
Colton said nothing. The air that had sizzled between them a moment ago went heavy with a different emotion—regret. “For what?”
He knew what. It was written all over his face, the pain and sadness in his eyes stealing the breath from her chest. “For choosing my job over you. That’s what I did, isn’t it? That’s why we separated? The only reason I can think of that you and I would break up after all those years must have been because I put my job first.”
One eye narrowed slightly. “You don’t… You don’t remember?”
She needed another dose of boldness, and had to dig deep to find it. “No, I don’t, okay? I know we had our issues, and I have fuzzy recollections of arguments after Connor’s rescue, but honestly? I don’t remember exactly why we divorced.”
His head snapped back as if someone had slapped him. Then he sat forward slowly and rubbed his eyes. “How bad is it? This memory loss?”
“I… I’m not…” God, this was not at all how she’d imagined the conversation going. “I seem to remember most things just fine, with the exception of that day. It’s just, I’ve been trying to remember…us. And I can. At least, all these moments in time, up until the night of Connor’s rescue. After that, there are plenty of memories of my life that didn’t involve you—my FBI cases, my family, Jaya, that stuff. But when it comes to you and I? It’s all kind of a blank after Connor’s rescue.”
He straightened again, avoiding her eyes. “Take your pick. Everything I did—do—rubs you the wrong way.”
