Broken for Me (Be for Me 5)

“Missing kids mostly. Trafficked girls.”

Her mouth opened and closed. “Shit… shit.”

“I had a sister.” Whom he never spoke about. His throat tightened but he fired the words out. He suspected he was gonna have to speak some more to satisfy Luisa. “She was twelve when she went missing.”

“She was taken?”

“Maybe.” Who the hell knew. “One of the many missing, never to be seen again.”

He’d wanted her to become a milk carton kid. He’d wanted them to do everything and anything they could to find her. But Martha, his ‘mom’, hadn’t let him put his home-made posters up. She’d said she was afraid of what might happen—that she didn’t want to lose him too. He’d been too young to question why she’d thought she might lose him.

“And you’re still looking for her?” Luisa asked gently.

He nodded again, unable to offer any more details, but oddly he didn’t regret what he’d said already. And to his immense relief she didn’t offer platitudes, but the expression in her eyes said it all.

“What’s her name?” Luisa asked.

“Beth,” he answered gruffly.

He was glad Luisa had used the present tense. Some days he believed Beth was still alive, other times he hoped she was simply at peace—whatever way that meant. Because the horrors that some of these kids went through? It wasn’t until years later that he realized that perhaps Beth hadn’t been taken. That perhaps she’d run. He’d been too naive to realize that there was something to run from. But he held back the most personal details from Luisa. From everyone.

He hated to face the horrors himself and that worst wasn’t for sharing. Not ever. The pity in her eyes was too much already, he didn’t want to see more. That was not what he wanted from her. Yet strangely he didn’t regret the admission—letting her in just that little bit. The tightness in his chest eased fractionally, enough for him to breathe again. She’d needed it too. It was trust, he realized, allowing some vulnerability to be acknowledged.

“I guess you go into some dangerous situations.” She focused on wiping the bar—though it was polished already.

He nodded yet again.

“But you rescue some of those kids.”

“Some of them.” Not all. Some were hidden too well. Some didn’t even know they were missing, they’d been taken so young.

“I’m sorry about your sister. I hope you find her one day.”

There was the chance, but she wasn’t why he did it anymore. He’d fallen into that rabbit hole and never found his way out again. He just kept on searching. It gave him purpose.

“Why didn’t you talk to me before—back in New York?” she suddenly asked as she wiped. “Then we could have been done already.”

His muscles tightened at the thought of them ‘being done’ already. “You weren’t ready to talk to me then. You’re barely able to talk to me now.”

“Why is it so important that I talk to you?”

“I don’t know. I guess you bother me somehow. I don’t particularly like it. I figure we just have to deal with this business between us, then we can move on.” And that was the truth.

“I’d already moved on,” she said in a low voice.

“No you hadn’t.” He put his hand on hers, stopping her from that pointless polishing. “Don’t lie Luisa. Not to me. Definitely not to yourself.”

She held his gaze for a long time. He’d thought she might speak again—was almost willing her to spill whatever it was that was on her mind. But she didn’t.

“It doesn’t have to be that big of a deal,” he muttered. “Not that complicated. It’s just want.”

“You travelled along way for not that big of a deal.”

“I travel a long way all of the time. That’s not that big of a deal either.” He grinned at her and released her hand. “You’ve probably travelled more. You know it’s just time in a tin can.”

The tension in her shoulders relaxed. Yeah, this didn’t need to be that complicated. They didn’t need to share more. There was nothing wrong with just enjoying company and the chemistry between them. But he was glad when it was closing time and those last few customers left.

“Let me walk you back to your rooms,” he offered once she’d locked up the bar.

“It’s not exactly dangerous round here.” She arched an eyebrow at him.

“Let me do it anyway.” He’d woo her just a little.

Her smile was slow and soft and their silence companionable as they walked through the quiet, dark resort to where the staff quarters were hidden at the back.

She turned just before her door. “You’re not going to take advantage?”

Oh he’d take advantage of every opportunity he could. “If you want. Invite me in, if you dare.”

“I share the room, remember?”

“Oh.” Damn.

“But she’s still working in the kitchen. We have about,” she glanced at her watch. “Ten minutes.”

Ten minutes wasn’t anywhere long enough. He should have walked her to his villa. “Let me just ensure there’s no intruder in there.”

“Don’t suggest that.” She managed to giggle and glare at him at the same time as she unlocked the door. “I’ll have nightmares.”

Did she have nightmares already? “You don’t get scared traveling around on your own?”

“Of course I do sometimes. I’d be dumb if I didn’t.” She glanced at him as she walked in ahead of him and flicked on the light. “Do you get scared?”

“All the damn time. Helps me keep my wits about me.” He looked around the small room. Two single beds.

“You shouldn’t leave this out in the open.” He frowned and opened the passport sitting on top of the small table—it was an auto thing to do. Those habits were hard to break. The passport was almost at expiry date so the photo was old. Her hair was ultra short. Sexy as hell. But not as much as the stunning mane she had now. In the picture her cheekbones were more prominent—probably because of that pixie cut hair. Two leather-bound books were stacked next to the passport and next to them was an open tin of pencils. He ran his finger over the worn cover of the top one.

“They’re my journals. Don’t read them.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He was offended. Although if this was a job, he’d have totally read them.

“You’re like a spy,” she said. “I bet you read other people’s journals if you can.”

He grinned a little guilty. “Not if they belong to friends.”

“Friends?” Her lips parted in another of those sweet smiles. “Is that what we are?”

“We can only try, right?” He dared her. “I don’t want to research you behind your back. I’d rather you trusted me to tell me anything you want, yourself.”

Her lips tightened. Yeah, he knew she still didn’t want to talk to him.

“You know everyone’s fucked up in some way, right?” she said tartly.

“I do know that, yes. Some more than others. Some handle

bad things better than others. But yeah, we all get broken up into bits and glued back together. That’s life.” He turned and walked to her door, pausing to look back at where she stood in the center of that lonely little room. “I don’t want to intrude in the areas where you don’t want me. But I don’t want you to hide from me either.” He rubbed his hair, frustrated. “That probably doesn’t make sense.”

“It makes sense.” She pressed her lips together. “I want that too—I want to know you. I want to understand… but I don’t want to care too much.”

“You’ve been hurt before.”

She’d already told him that she’d offered her love to someone. She’d watched someone die. It wasn’t hard to put one and one together.

She met his gaze with a solemn look. “I think we both have.”

His was a different kind of hurt. A different loss. But yeah, same result. He didn’t want close. He didn’t want caring. He’d never had it, never would.

“I think you’re clear.” He checked his watch. “And my time is up.”

She walked over to where he lingered in that open doorway. “You’re not going to kiss me goodnight?”

He shook his head. “You know what will happen if I do and you’ve said you’re not ready for that yet.”

But from that look in her eyes she was getting there. It wouldn’t take much to tip her over. But he wasn’t doing that—yet.

He reached out and touched her lip with his finger—so lightly—but it damn well made his balls ache. Right now he wanted her more than he could breathe. “Sweet dreams Luisa.”

“You know they’re not going to be sweet.”

He chuckled. “Didn’t your mamma teach you not to play with matches? Don’t start a fire if you don’t want to be burned.”

She looked a little rueful. “The fire’s already started Hunter.”

He smiled as he left her. That it had.