He left.

Gone.

Smoke in the wind.

Not a word from Arsen in three days since I told him my biggest secret. A secret that could make or break me as a woman. Right now, I’m feeling pretty fucking broken.

I should hate him, but I think I love him.

I should curse him, but I miss him down to my soul.

I shouldn’t shed a tear for him, but we could have been everything.

After sending him a quick text the following day when I didn’t hear from him and not receiving an answer back, my heart broke a little more. Because of that, I’ve been avoiding everyone all week, including my mother’s phone calls. Because every time I try to talk, tears clog my throat. He broke me when he promised to be here. I can’t even bring myself to curse him because I don’t blame him for running. He’s old enough to know what he wants in life, and what he doesn’t want is a defective woman.

He could have said so my inner voice keeps screaming at me. I wish he would have.

After watching the evening news that day, I understand he’s extremely consumed with an important case. I have even tried to give him the benefit of the doubt by making excuses about being busy. Catching the bad guys. Going through evidence.

Anything but this silence.

Making a quick decision this morning, I’m now on my way to my parents’ early. I need to get out of my apartment, away from sheets that still smell like Arsen. I need to regroup and refresh my mind. Come home stronger.

Fayetteville is considered a small city compared to some, but it’s rather large for the state. I loved growing up there. The history is rich with stories from hundreds of years past, and I’m hoping to do more than sulk around my childhood home.

I have a lunch scheduled with a few girls form high school on Saturday, but other than that I’m planning to take some photos of the buildings in The Square while I’m here for my annual “What Did You Do This Summer” back-to-school day. I want the children to work on their short-term memory, and last year, the exercise proved to be enlightening.

The drive home is long, and after stopping mid-way for dinner, I’m back on the highway again. The roads are busier than normal for mid-week, and my nerves are beginning to get the best of me as multiple semi-trucks cruise by at high speeds. My heart threatens to beat out of my chest when a gust of wind rocks one so heavily that I have to slam on my brakes to avoid the vehicle side-swiping my tiny car.

Screeching to a halt on the side of the road, I lay my head on the steering wheel while my body vibrates with fear. Regret churns my stomach as I contemplate heading back home. Just turning around and suffering through my pain.

I’ve tried so hard to ignore my fear of getting back on the highway. I’ve avoided it for over a year. I’ve tried to put that anxiety behind me, but it seems it’s not working so well.

Digging through my purse, I search for my phone, needing to hear Arsen’s voice. I need his cool calm right now. Even knowing he’s not in this for the long haul, I just need a piece of him.

Finding the device, I dial his number and pray he answers. Disappointment wilts my frame as his voicemail picks up. “This is Detective Arsen Daniels, if this is an emergency, dial 911 for help; otherwise, I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

When the beep indicates I speak, I freeze. What do you I even say? Clearing my throat, I stumble words out. “Hi Arsen, it’s Marina. I’m sorry for bothering you. I just needed…well, it doesn’t matter, I guess. Bye.” Hitting end, I slip the phone back into my purse and slowly merge into the highway traffic, relieved to see no more semi-trucks around.

The rest of the drive is uneventful, and when I do get to my parents’, I’m grateful it’s so late, and they’re in bed. I’m able to slink up to my room and wallow in misery without my mother breathing down my neck.

* * *

I hadn’t meant to stay so out of touch with Marina, but this entire case has had the whole department in a tailspin. After seeing the video of the possible killer, we were able to track the guy down, and he ran. Like most criminals do.

After a twelve-block chase and tackle, I apprehended him, busting my phone in the process. I haven’t had a chance to get a new one, and now, as I park in front of Marina’s, I fucking hope she’ll forgive me for not calling her sooner.

I’ve been sleeping at the precinct because we only had 72 hours to hold this guy without charging him, and he hadn’t asked for a lawyer, so I wasn’t taking a break until he gave up his guilt.

Rod had found a replica of the knife used, in the man’s apartment, and we knew we had to keep going at him. Pulling back wasn’t an option.

Eight hours ago, he cracked and told us everything. The kids wouldn’t give up their wallets. That’s it. No other reason for murdering them than greed. He’s the lowest kind of criminal; the one with no sense of his crime.

After Rod and I had formally charged him, we went back to the families to tell them that we caught the man who killed their boys. Explaining why was almost as devastating to them as hearing about the initial loss.

Climbing the stairs to Marina’s floor, I feel nothing but relief when I see her door. Knocking on it, I pray she’s home. After ten minutes, I start to get worried.

“You looking for Miss Parks?” An older woman comes out from down the hall.

“Yes. You know where she is?”

She eyes me critically before asking, “Who are you?”

Pulling out my badge, I introduce myself. “Detective Arsen Daniels, MNPD, ma’am.”

Her mouth moves side to side in contemplation before answering me again. “She left for her parents earlier today. Looked mighty sad and exhausted. Been hearing her cry for a couple days now.”

“Shit.” Waving my hand at her, I leave. “Thanks!”

Exhausted. Sad. Crying.

Didn’t take a fucking genius to figure why. I’m such a fucking idiot. Knowing exactly where I have to go, I’m prepared to grovel as I drive across town to Sophie and Nico’s place. I’m sure I am breaking a few laws as I turn on my siren and fly through red lights with accuracy and speed.

Barely shutting my truck off, I’m out the door and running up the steps to their front door. Pounding on the piece of wood, I call, “Sophie! Nico!”

“Bro, what the fuck?” Nico opens up, an angry scowl on his face.

“I need Sophie’s help,” I tell him in a rush, hardly able to stand still.

“Arsen?” I hear her call.

“Marina. Where’s her parents live?” If I were thinking logically instead of emotionally, I would have remembered that I could find her on my own.

“What happened?” She eyes me the same way as the old woman did.

“I fucked up. I had a big case…a bad case. I was called away to find the perp just as she told me-” I stop mid-sentence, unsure if she’s told them or not. “I fucked up. I broke my damn phone and haven’t been able to get in touch with her the past couple of days, and now, she’s at her parents. I need to see her, Soph. I need to make it right.”

Nico has a fucking smirk on his damn face again.

Sophie is almost in tears as she hands me a piece of paper. “Make it right, Arsen,” she instructs.

Kissing her cheek, I yell out, “Thanks, Soph!” over my shoulder as I head back to the precinct to beg my damn captain for a couple days off to fix things.

Noticing him on the steps in front of the precinct with a camera crew and news vans all around, I prepare for the three-ring circus that’s about to happen. He’s a glory-hound, and I know he won’t hesitate to pull me into the spotlight.

“Detective Daniels!” he calls as he continues on. “This man was the lead investigator. Caught the perpetrator and stayed for three days to interrogate him. All credit goes to him.” A cheer and clapping follow his words for a brief second before questions come slinging my way.

Walking up the steps, I stand beside my superior and address the press. “The family is asking for peace to grieve their tragic loss. All they want is privacy, but if you’d like to help, a donation box has been set up with our desk sergeant. Feel free to write down your condolences as well.”

One reporter, one who’s always going out of her way to make us look bad, shouts out, “Are you going to use this case as a milestone to further your career, Detective?”

I’m not sure what she’s getting at, but I’m going to use it my advantage. “I’m a career detective, ma’am. Happy where I’m at. I’m simply looking forward to having a week off to spend with my girl since she’s on summer break now.” There’s no way the captain’ll turn me down now.

“Taking time off, are you?” he mutters in my ear. “That’s all folks! Like Daniels said, all donations and condolences are appreciated.” He claps a hand on my shoulder and guides me inside. “We’ve got your new phone ready. Same number and voicemail. Enjoy your time, Daniels, and don’t use me again.” He smirks as I slip out the back after the sergeant hands me my new phone.

As I turn it on, I see I’ve got missed calls and messages from Kol, the families of this case, and Marina. Thankfully, I was able to keep in touch with the victims’ parents via the precinct. Before I can open up anything, my phone rings with Kol’s number lighting up.

“What?” I snap, not wanting to talk to him right now.

“Aren’t you a ray of fucking sunshine. You’re perpetually cranky. You know that, right?” He laughs.

“Not in the mood, man.”

“Fine. Ember’s got a recital in four weeks. She wants you there, bro.” Our sister volunteers as a dance coach for a youth group in downtown Knoxville, and sometimes, the kids’ parents don’t come, so she tries to get us and as many of her friends as she can to go.

“I’ll do my best,” I tell him as I drive away from the precinct. Heading for the highway.

“Heard about your case. You okay, Arsen?”

“Fine. Except I fucked shit up with my girl,” I grumble.

His laughter rings hollow as I pull the phone from my ear. “What’d you do?”

“This fucking case has had me all messed up. She told me a big fucking secret as I was being called away, and I had no chance to respond. Then I broke my damn phone, and karma’s been a bitch ever since.” The more I think about it, the angrier I become.

“How long ago was this?” His laughter is gone.

“Almost three days ago,” I mumble, knowing he’s going to give me shit.

“Shit, dude, could you have waited any longer?”

“I’ve been in interrogation, asshole.”

“So, are you on your way to her place now?”

“Been there. She’s gone.”

“Gone? Where she’d go?” He seems shocked.

“Her parents.”

“That’s not–“

“In fucking Fayetteville, Arkansas,” I interrupt.

A long whistle comes through the line before he speaks again. “That’s what, six hours from you?”

“More like eight.”

“You got a siren! Use it, bro!”

“That’d be illegal. Besides, I have no jurisdiction past state lines, dumb ass.” Hitting the highway, I speed up, just going the speed limit and tell Kol, “Look, man, I gotta go. I’ve got a long fucking drive ahead of me. Tell Em I’ll do my best.”

“Call me when you get there, so I know you ain’t in no damn ditch or jail cell for the night. Don’t worry, I’ll tell Em about your girl. She’ll expect you both.” He laughs, knowing Ember will be calling me the first chance she gets now. “What’s her name, anyhow?”

“Marina Parks.” I hang up; done with the shithead. Cranking a country station, Riser by Chase Rice plays, and fuck do I wish I had Marina with me. Gliding my hands across her soft flesh for hours on end.

This is going to be a long fucking drive.