Page 25 of Night Prey
“The executor couldn’t store everything I wanted to keep, but I couldn’t part with this game.” She frowned. “I wanted to take it with me to foster care, but they told us that possessions often got lost or stolen. I didn’t want to lose it. As it turns out, I’m glad I left it behind. Very little of what I took with me remains.” Except that picture. That she made sure of.
“Were your things lost or stolen?” he asked.
“Both. When we were moving from one home to the next, we were allowed to store our items with social services. One time they lost most of it. Some of the things were stolen in our second house.”
He locked gazes with her. “You had a bad experience in care?”
“Just part of the time,” she replied, trying to remember only the good. “Our third home was great, and we stayed with those parents until we went off to college on full scholarships.”
He set the game aside and took out other items that belonged to Reed. “You said your dad was an attorney. Is that why you became one?”
She shook her head. “I wanted to help put people behind bars who hurt kids. And people like Junior. Even though I’ve gotten over what he did to me, it left me feeling vulnerable. And I didn’t have anyone to turn to. That’s why I became a prosecutor.”
“But you left the DA’s office.”
“You know how often offenders get away with their crimes. That wore on me. Big time. So I thought I would approach it from the other side and help the victims.”
“Is that better for you?”
She sighed. “So much better. I finally feel like I’m making a difference.”
He closed the box and shifted it to the floor. “I feel the same way in my job, but unfortunately, I only help people after they’re gone.”
She rested her hand on his arm. “These victims and their families need someone to stand up for them too.”
“I know. It’s just…it gets… Sometimes, it’s hard to take. Other times, like with Junior, I know I’m doing the right thing, but part of me thinks he must’ve brought this on himself.” Ian ripped the tape off the next box with force. “Still, even people like Junior often have a history growing up that explains their actions. They’re still responsible for their actions, but they didn’t have the right guidance growing up.”
“You think that’s Junior’s reason for being the way he was?”
Ian cocked his head. “Only time will tell, but honestly, once I saw his true colors the day he tried to assault you, I didn’t bother trying to figure him out. Just did my best to intervene if I ever saw him try to hurt anyone else. Of course, I kept an eye out for you too.”
And there it was. The reason she shouldn’t be alone with Ian. They had a history. A thing. A connection. One that went back to days of loving from afar, but she’d always felt it was deeper, and yet, not fully formed. She wanted to finish forming it. Because being with him felt easy. Right. And he seemed to feel the same thing.
6
Despite the reason, Ian liked the time he was spending with Malone. He felt like he was having a conversation that was long overdue. One where they got to know each other better. He’d always thought he would like what he learned about her, and he was right. He only hoped she was thinking the same thing about him. Not that it mattered. They were not only being drawn together, but they were both pushing away too. Still avoiding.
She lifted a box flap, revealing photo albums. “Not sure your theory holds weight all the time.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your parents liked to have wild parties. Did you have the right guidance?”
“Not exactly,” he said.
“And look how you turned out.”
Right.He thought her earlier silence had meant she wanted to drop the conversation, but she wanted to continue, and he’d go with it.
“Thanks to my youth pastor.” Memories of the leader Ian still kept in touch with made him smile. “I didn’t even believe in God. Andrew didn’t care. I was twelve, and he was doing a service project at school. Somehow, he roped me into helping. I discovered how good it felt to help others, to not take and take and take like my parents taught me to do. So I kept going back. Learning more and more. Filling up a hole in myself that I think my parents were—are—futilely searching to fill. God became a big part of my life back then. Still is.”
She looked up. “I don’t remember you going to church when we were in high school.”
“I did. Just not around here.” He paused to decide if he wanted to share the reason. After all, he’d never told anyone, but a burning desire to tell her took over his wish for privacy. “I had this thing about not letting anyone see the real me at school. Not sure why. Maybe it was because we moved a lot when I was a kid. Guess it was easier to let people believe I was like my parents than to get close to someone only to have my family move again. So I attended church in McMinnville.”
She shook her head, a tight smile on her face.
“What?” he asked, even more curious now about what she was thinking.
