We Are Us

“That’s really great, Gav. I’m happy for her.”

“How about your mom, is she doing well?”

“Yeah. She lives up in Maine now. I called her last week to tell her what was going on and she rushed me off the phone because she didn’t want to be late for drum circle.” I roll my eyes. “Apparently, the last person to show up gets stuck with the bad banjo.”

“I hate when that happens.”

We share an easy silence for a few moments, and I can feel the years falling away like we’re being pushed through an opening in the universe that was made just for us. The gravity between my heart and Gavin’s is an undeniable force that has me leaning into him. My lips part, compelled by an instinctive urge to breathe his scent deep into my lungs, to swallow the energy sparking and dancing between us.

The spell is broken when a couple of tourists enter our clearing, using their selfie stick to pose in front of the waterfall. A chill breaks out over my skin and I jerk back, blinking my vision into focus. For several moments I am untethered, fighting to regain my sense of time and place while two strangers laugh and make ridiculous faces, completely unaware of us as they cycle through several poses before venturing off in search of the next Instagram-worthy spot.

Once they leave I exhale a ragged sigh. Gavin presses a kiss against my temple and curves his hand around the back of my neck, lightly caressing the tendons on either side of my spine. “I looked for you, you know,” I say, my voice cracking. “When you stopped sending messages.”

Gavin appears puzzled. “Looked for me… where?”

“Social media. Instagram, Facebook, SnapChat. Even Twitter.”

His confusion works its way into a disappointed frown. “You could have tried calling me.”

“I was married, Gavin. It wouldn’t have been right.”

“I don’t do social media. But if I did, it wouldn’t be all that interesting. After I left your place that day, I called up a contact of mine who worked in the New York Field Office and picked his brain for an hour. I figured if you were doing your thing, I’d better get my ass in gear and do mine.”

I clear my throat, relieved to be talking about banal things for a little longer. My pulse is still racing and my breaths are shallow. “Did you always want to work in Financial Crimes?

“Not really. It was only because—” He closes his eyes for a minute, almost wincing. “Fuck, I’m going to sound like a stalker for telling you this.”

My curiosity immediately multiplies. “Tell me.”

“I was trying to figure out what you saw in a guy like Stockton, so I read up on him and his family, their investment company. I never expected to find banking interesting, but I kind of developed a knack for it. Numbers don’t lie.” He turns back my way, his eyes open and trained on me once again. “One thing led to another and when a spot opened up in FC, I applied.”

I have to stifle the urge to tie a bandana around Gavin’s face. His stare triggers an alarm rigged deep within my body, somehow waking up every single cell and making them shake inside my veins. I feel jittery and tingly, like he’s set off a chemical reaction I have no control over. Tearing my gaze from his, I look over at the waterfall. “How did you find out what Tucker was up to?”

“I can’t take all the credit. One of my buddies from Quantico works in Art Theft. I stopped by his desk on our way to lunch and noticed a picture tacked to his bulletin board—”

I suck in a breath. “Wren.”

“Yes. Apparently, she advises several collectors who are known to purchase black market art. I followed a hunch and learned that every single one of those collectors became a client of Stockton Capital after your husband took over.”

“So you think…”

“He got into business with some really shady characters. Lines were crossed. I don’t know how he found out about the pending indictment, but leaks happen. This isn’t the first time someone’s carried out an elaborate scheme to evade arrest.”

I consider Gavin’s assessment for a few minutes. He doesn’t add anything else, giving me time to draw a conclusion of my own. But my mind quickly strays from thoughts of Tucker. I’ve wasted too much time thinking about him, worrying about him, trying to please and appease him. I don’t want to waste any more.

And besides, I have more important things to discuss with Gavin. The truth… my truth.

Gathering all of my courage, I tug at the zipper of my coat and pull out the moonstone pendant tucked beneath my shirt

Gavin’s eyes drop. “You still have it.”

“Tucker had it, actually. I found it in his safe yesterday.”

His brows knit together, an unspoken question in the crease of his forehead.

I fight against a sudden wave of vertigo and dig my hands into the cold dirt beneath me, bombarded by the sheer force of all the secrets I’ve kept from him through the years. Once I’ve found my center, clinging to a deep reserve of determination buried within my core, I dive back into the sea of confusion and concern swirling inside Gavin’s gaze. “There’s so much I need to tell you. Starting with the night I lost your necklace.”