“Maybe in the beginning, but then…” It was so hard to explain, to put into words when she’d spent her whole adult life avoiding such a thing. “I care about you. Is that so hard to believe?”
He reached out and tucked the piece of hair that kept escaping back behind her ear. “Sweet Lindsay,” he said with a small smile. “I finally found a person more afraid of their feelings and commitment than I am.”
“You? Afraid?” It seemed impossible. Matt was always full of confidence. He’d seen some horrible things, but he always seemed so sure of himself.
“At first women find what I do exciting. Dangerous. Then they have to deal with the realities of my job. I’m not always fun at the end of the day. There’s shiftwork. I deal with the worst society has to offer. When there’s trouble most sensible people run away from it. It’s my job to run to it, and I love it.” He frowned. “Most of the time anyway.”
“Not days like today though.”
“No,” he said quietly, “not days like today.”
And they were back to Miranda Jones and the case that had shaken the community. Lindsay was glad the topic had come full circle and away from her feelings—at least for now. “What can I do? I’m here to listen if that’s what you need.”
“And I can’t tell you the details. I’m not sure I would if I could. If I tell you that it’s officially been ruled a murder investigation, is that enough?”
She nodded. “I don’t need details. I just know that finding her had to bring back a lot of old feelings. If you need to talk through any of that, I’m here, okay?”
“All I need from you right now is a place to escape and feel alive. To have something good in my hands to chase away the bad. Help me forget, Lindsay. That’s all I want tonight. Can you do that?”
Odd, that a week ago his words would have been music to her ears, but tonight they suddenly weren’t enough. And yet she didn’t have it in her to deny him, because she wanted it too.
“I’ll do what I can,” she whispered, and reached for him.
Twigs and leaves crunched beneath his feet as he walked, carefully searching for any evidence. Every bump and lump on the forest floor was assessed and dismissed. Step, step, pause…step, step, step… He squinted ahead and wondered what the hell a circus cage was doing in the middle of the woods. Slowly, he made his way towards it, and a slumped figure appeared inside the odd steel contraption. His heart rate accelerated as he made out long dark hair on the body. Miranda had long hair. Had he finally found her? There was still time. He ran, grabbing his radio and barking in his location. If they could get her to the hospital…
He reached the cage and put his hands on the bars as rage ripped through him. He was too late. Goddammit, he was too late! Her body was limp and bloody, her eyes staring at him but seeing nothing. He pulled at the bars but they wouldn’t budge, and her name was ripped from his throat… Helen… Helen…
“Helen!”
He sat up in bed. Sweat slicked down his chest and back and his breath came in harsh gasps. The dream. Jesus. Why did it keep coming back? Only this time instead of the echo of a cold warehouse it had been in the woods where they’d been searching all week. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he’d combined both cases into one horrific nightmare. He hadn’t saved Miranda and he sure as hell hadn’t kept his promise to Helen.
Argggh… He was so fucked up.
“It’s okay, Matt. Shhh.”
Cool hands rested on his shoulders and he closed his eyes, focusing on the gentle touch. He’d hoped that making love, losing himself in Lindsay, getting that ultimate release at the end of a long day would be enough to keep the dark images away. It hadn’t been. Not even close.
Her fingers stroking his skin felt good, soothing. He dropped his head and fought against the wave of emotion crashing over him. Helplessness, impotence, failure. It was too much. He couldn’t erase the image of that beautiful young girl lying in the grass, her face so still and peaceful while her body… Bile rose in his throat. He couldn’t stop the ideas from flooding into his brain, wondering what and how long she’d suffered before she died. Before he could stop it, he coughed and a half-sob tore at his throat at the same time. Hot, stinging tears burned his eyeballs and he pressed the heels of his hands against them. If he fell apart now, he might never find his way back, and this job was all he damn well had.
“Oh, baby,” he heard a soft, gentle voice in the middle of the turmoil churning through him. “It’s okay. I’m here. It’s going to be okay.”
The pain in his chest was so intense, not only from what he couldn’t escape but a sweeter kind of pain because he believed her. It was going to be okay. It had to be.
Lindsay shifted closer, circling his arms around his shoulders, linking her hands in front of his chest and touching her lips to the side of his neck. “It’s okay,” she repeated.
Slowly, he unwrapped himself from his curled-up position and put his hand over her smaller one, squeezing tightly. He hadn’t expected to feel this way either, certainly not from the moment he’d bought her a glass of wine on a whim at Jake’s. But he’d fallen in love with her. Perhaps because she was, in some ways, as messed up as he was. And because despite all the imperfections, she also had a huge and generous heart beneath all the protective wrapping.
He turned on the bed and faced her, saw her worried eyes and tousled hair and felt something click. Something incredible and right.
He’d never put much stock in fate, but it seemed clear that he’d been put here, in this town, because of Lindsay. He needed her as much as she needed him. And while two wounded souls could definitely be a recipe for disaster, something told him it wasn’t so with them. Together they were strong, and the ghosts of the past didn’t seem as troubling.
“I was right,” he murmured, cupping her jaw in his hand and rubbing his thumb along her cheek. “You are an angel. I need you, Lindsay. You don’t have to make everything better, you just do. By being you.”
He let out a long sigh. “I think I need to talk to someone about what’s going on. Sort through the mess in my head, you know? Anyone you can recommend?”
Her eyes softened. “You’re serious?”
He nodded. “I need help. I’ve been too proud to ask for it, and I’ve tried to handle it on my own. But it’s not fair to ask you to deal with my burdens. You’ve done that enough in your lifetime.”