Page 54 of After We Fall

I don’t want to fall apart now.

My eyes sting with fresh tears.

I’ll fall apart later. Not now. Not in front of Luke.

My chest heaves with each breath as torrential waves force themselves to the surface.

No. Not in front of anyone.

But not in front of Luke.

A merciless whimper breaks free. “I’m sorry,” I say, my body shaking. A surge of tears spills down my hot cheeks. In horror at my emotional outburst, I raise my uninjured arm and place my hand over my face. “I’m sorry.”

“Baby.” Gingerly, Luke wraps one arm around my waist and the other across my shoulders, scooting his body closer to engulf me in his protective hold.

I clutch a chunk of his shirt and pull him toward me, burrowing the unharmed side of my head into the safe wall of his chest. Loud, fractious sobs fill the room. The release causes excruciating pain to throb in my head, but if I don’t surrender the fear coursing through my veins, it will swallow me whole.

“I was so scared. I’m so scared, Luke. I didn’t know. I couldn’t see. Then I couldn’t remember. I can’t remember.” My nonsensical words spill out through hiccups and shudders. “And I don’t—I don’t know. Finley. Where is she? Is someone helping her? And—Luke. It hurts.” I squeeze my eyes, trying to block the pain pulsing through my skull. “It hurts so much. I hurt.” Hiccup. “I hurt.”

Luke pulls me forward and drops his head over my shoulder, curling his body around me as if he can somehow absorb my agony.

Wrapped in the safety of Luke’s cocoon, I empty my soul into his arms. The dam that held back the reckless waters of this morning breaks, and a ferocious flood of tears spills over the walls. For Finley, yes, but also for me. For the twelve-year-old who lost her mother. For the fostered teenager who had no one to remove her stitches. And for the woman in a lonely hospital room who has no emergency contact. Rivulets of grief for my past flow into the current of today’s calamity, and I am powerless to do anything but cry.

Luke’s hold on me tightens, but he pulls back just enough to put his mouth to my ear. “I’ve got you, Penelope. I’ve got you. Yeah?”

I nod, my cheek rubbing against the dense cotton of his shirt.

The final anguished drops of my story fall onto his chest, and my breathing slows. The pounding headache has worsened with my outburst, but maybe my slowed pulse will steady the blood scurrying through my veins.

“I’ve got feelers out for both Finley and Marcus. I will find them.”

His voice is so sure, so confident, there’s no other reply than to nod again.

“I also talked to Tanya. She called someone named Daphne Fielding. Said she’s worked with the girls before?”

Daphne. I completely forgot. She’s volunteered a few times teaching art lessons at the ranch.

“Daphne is going to do curfew check-in with the girls and will stay at the house tonight. Hank is the ranch hand on call just in case we need him. Also, one of my men is there. He’ll keep out of sight but will monitor the property. And I’ve got another guy at the office watching the security cameras.”

I take in a broken breath. “You took care of everything.”

He runs a thumb over the apple of my cheek. “I took care of everything.”

I pull back to look him in the eyes. “If you won’t be at the ranch tonight, where will you be?”

Luke slides his warm hand to the back of my neck and squeezes gently. “Hunting.”

“Hunting?”

“I’ve been keeping tabs on Marcus. I know a few places to look for him.”

My eyes widen and I open my mouth to protest, but Luke continues. “I’m not the law, Penelope. I won’t make an approach. But I can help the police by sharing information I find.”

15

Hunting.

I’ll give Luke something to hunt.