“I am. I really am, Hayes.”
For the next few minutes, we caught up, and I promised to call her soon to talk to Lucy. When the call was done, I looked out the windows, taking in the city lights, the moon in the distance, wondering if Margo was working tonight.
I knew she was.
She was always working or studying, determined to reach her goals. It was commendable and fucking attractive. She was determined, passionate. Any time I was in her presence, that passion seeped into me, drawing me to her like a moth to a flame.
She made me feel alive after pretending to be for so long.
Setting the beer onto the table, I picked up my pen again and leaned forward, trying everything to avoid picking up the phone and calling her. I wanted to see her. To go to her and set the record straight. After what I’d just endured, I was ready to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness.
My mind drifted back to her breathless moan, calling out for Gordon and then jumping to the fear in her eyes when I repeated it.
Who was Gordon?
I let the pen fall onto the stack of papers, nabbing the beer again as I rose from the chair. I moved through my living room, my body aching, desperate for rest—to heal. But my mind was reeling, on high alert. I took a healthy swig of beer before pulling out my cell, bringing up Jake’s contact.
Me: Murphy, you up?
I looked back out the window, beyond the city, to the west—to Astoria. A minute later, my phone dinged.
Murphy: I’m always up, but you aren’t supposed to be.
Me: Need a favor.
Murphy: What’s up?
Me: All I have is a first name. I need you to find them for me.
I hadn’t even lifted my thumb off the send button before he was calling me.
“Can you do it?” I answered.
“Mind you,” he grumbled. “It’s four in the fucking morning.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“No, I cannot find someone with just a first name. I’m going to need a location, at the very least.”
“Oregon,” I said, finishing off the beer before allowing my mind to drift back. “Huntington.”
“Huntington,” he parroted. There was a slight pause, and I knew what was coming. Still, I braced for it. “Who is this about, Hayes? Jack?”
“No.”
“Is something wrong?”
I moved into the kitchen, tossing the empty bottle into the trash. “I don’t know yet.”
He sighed, and I could practically see him taking off his glasses and scrubbing his hand down his face. “Mitchell…”
“If something comes of it, I’ll loop in the team, but for now, I need to do this on my own,” I told him honestly. There was no sense in bringing them into the shit with Margo until I did everything in my power to fix whatever this was between us.
Her words, weeks later, still haunted me.
No, you don’t get to make love to me and then treat me like shit.
I’ve been treated that way my entire life and I will not let you do that to me.