Page 124 of The Gift
“He’s in federal custody, in isolation. They’re keeping him separate until they sort out who he talked to and what he traded. Cops aren’t well-liked in jail. Especially former federal agents.”
“Too bad. He shouldn’t get special treatment. He deserves to experience all the discomforts of gen-pop.”
He nearly choked on a laugh. “This is a bloodthirsty side of you I haven’t seen.”
“Don’t expect me to be sympathetic toward the man who shot you.” Erica leaned against him and sighed. “I’m done with investigations. I mean it. I can’t do this again.”
His arm curled around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “Suits me fine. I don’t want you anywhere near this kind of danger.”
She knew, as did he, that if someone was in danger and she could help, she would walk into the fire again. Some things didn’t need to be said.
“Lauren texted me this morning,” Erica said.
“How’s she doing?” Concern threaded through his voice. Kedrov and his thugs had left significant collateral damage.
Lauren had spent a few days under observation for dehydration, mild malnutrition, and exhaustion. Nothing serious. Thank God.
The physical wounds would heal. The rest would take time.
“She’s seeing a trauma counselor,” Erica said, “and she’s finally sleeping through the night.”
Neither of them spoke for a moment.It isn’t fair, echoing in her head.
Vince shifted and settled back against the bench. “What do you say we stop talking about criminals and trauma?”
“I like that plan.”
A slow grin spread across his face. Immediately, she became suspicious.
“What?”
“Here’s the plan I like. Since I couldn’t ride, I had the Harley serviced. Now I’m looking at four weeks of medical recuperation.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Vince.”
“Studies show hitting the open road on the back of a bike is therapeutic.”
“Cite one.”
He chuckled, pulling her into his arms again. “The Pacific Coast Highway is calling, darlin’. And it’s not gonna ride itself.”
She tried hard not to smile and failed completely.
His grin widened. “That’s what I thought.”
And just like that, she knew how the next month was going to go.
Epilogue
The morning after his appointment, Vince installed the saddlebags on his Harley, and they set out for California. They followed the Pacific Coast Highway north, stopping whenever something caught their eye: a tiny beach town, a quiet sandy stretch for a barefoot walk in the waves, or a cliffside overlook to watch moonlight on the water.
They had no schedules, no reservations to keep, and no one expecting them anywhere. They rode until tired, staying wherever felt right. Sometimes they talked late into the night. Other times, they simply enjoyed being quiet together. Silence with Vince never felt empty.
The best moments came on his bike with her arms around his waist, the wind tangling her hair, and the coastline stretching out beside them. She felt freer than she had since before everything happened. Maybe, freer than ever. Each mile put more distance between her and the past, and through it all, her gift stayed quiet.
One night, they found a moonlit stretch of beach north of Carmel. It was empty for as far as either of them could see.
Vince spread their blanket over the damp sand. She sat beside him, her thigh pressed lightly against his, close enough that his arm settled around her shoulders naturally, as if it had always belonged there.
