not only didn’t believe her memory loss, he actively
disliked the person she used to be.
It
was enough to depress anybody.
As
she stared at the window, the feeling of pressure, of the confines of the car
shrinking, began to rise again. Her breath came faster as she searched the
darkness, her gaze darting frantically for a glimmer of anything. God, it was
cramped in here.
“Hey.”
The
light touch on her shoulder startled Clarissa so badly she nearly dropped her
water.
“You
Okay?” Langston was watching her, the usual suspicion in his eyes replaced by
concern.
“Yeah,
yeah,” Clarissa replied hurriedly, surprised that she was breathless. “I’m
fine.”
Langston
looked dubious, but just took another drink of water, his eyes still on her.
Clarissa
focused on him. If she just didn’t try to look outside, she wouldn’t think
about it. She just needed to keep her mind off it. Luckily for her, she had a
prime piece of distraction, albeit a slightly prickly one. She was willing to
risk Langston’s temper if it meant she didn’t have to think about how damn
small this car was.
“So
you said you joined the FBI because of your dad,” she said. “Was he an agent
too?”
Langston
breathed a sigh.
“We’re
going to be stuck here for hours, we may as well talk,” Clarissa prompted
testily. For God’s sake, was she not even worth carrying on a conversation?
“He
didn’t work for the FBI, he was wanted by the FBI,” Langston finally said,
surprising her. “I didn’t know he was a crook until I was fifteen, when he left
me and my mom high and dry. Turned out he’d been embezzling for years, raising
the stakes by defrauding customers at the securities firm where he worked when
the embezzling wasn’t enough.” He paused, glancing her way. “Sound familiar?”
His
voice was hard and flat.
Clarissa
stared right back, refusing to be intimidated. He could be as judgy as he
wanted, but she was sure that if she really had done those things he’d said she
had, she must have had a really good reason. She just didn’t know what it was
yet.
“We
never saw him again,” he continued. “The people he’d stolen from sued his
estate and my mother. Eventually, we lost everything. Whatever he did with the
money, I don’t know, but we never saw a penny of it.”
He
told the story impassively, though Clarissa could hear the bitterness
underlying his words.
“That’s
really awful,” she said sincerely. “I’m sorry.”
Langston
shrugged. “It is what it is. I learned from it, and now here I am catching
criminals. One day, maybe I’ll catch him.”
It
was quiet for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts. Clarissa kept her
eyes slanted Langston’s way, however. No way was she looking at the windows
again. He must have gotten tired of sitting hunched over because he lay down
with a sigh, an arm bent to cushion his head, and his knees up since the SUV
couldn’t accommodate his height.
“Might
as well get some sleep,” he observed. “It’s going to be a long night.”
Clarissa
scooted down until she was cuddled inside the sleeping bag. It was warm enough,
and though the floor of the SUV was hard, it was better than being outside. She
turned on her side to face him, away from the windows. It was odd, yet
comforting, being here with him, a near stranger. Though she supposed everyone
was a stranger to her now.
The
light from the glow stick wasn’t bright, but enough for her to see Langston. He
stared up at the ceiling of the SUV, seemingly unaware of her eyes on him. Despite
his epically bad sense of direction, she felt safe, which was incredibly
foolish of her. Langston was a man who saw things in black and white, was
unforgiving of those who broke the law, and his entire sense of purpose was to
bring to justice the people who’d committed those wrongs.
“Stop
staring,” he said, breaking the silence and startling Clarissa from her
musings. He turned his head, and their eyes
disliked the person she used to be.
It
was enough to depress anybody.
As
she stared at the window, the feeling of pressure, of the confines of the car
shrinking, began to rise again. Her breath came faster as she searched the
darkness, her gaze darting frantically for a glimmer of anything. God, it was
cramped in here.
“Hey.”
The
light touch on her shoulder startled Clarissa so badly she nearly dropped her
water.
“You
Okay?” Langston was watching her, the usual suspicion in his eyes replaced by
concern.
“Yeah,
yeah,” Clarissa replied hurriedly, surprised that she was breathless. “I’m
fine.”
Langston
looked dubious, but just took another drink of water, his eyes still on her.
Clarissa
focused on him. If she just didn’t try to look outside, she wouldn’t think
about it. She just needed to keep her mind off it. Luckily for her, she had a
prime piece of distraction, albeit a slightly prickly one. She was willing to
risk Langston’s temper if it meant she didn’t have to think about how damn
small this car was.
“So
you said you joined the FBI because of your dad,” she said. “Was he an agent
too?”
Langston
breathed a sigh.
“We’re
going to be stuck here for hours, we may as well talk,” Clarissa prompted
testily. For God’s sake, was she not even worth carrying on a conversation?
“He
didn’t work for the FBI, he was wanted by the FBI,” Langston finally said,
surprising her. “I didn’t know he was a crook until I was fifteen, when he left
me and my mom high and dry. Turned out he’d been embezzling for years, raising
the stakes by defrauding customers at the securities firm where he worked when
the embezzling wasn’t enough.” He paused, glancing her way. “Sound familiar?”
His
voice was hard and flat.
Clarissa
stared right back, refusing to be intimidated. He could be as judgy as he
wanted, but she was sure that if she really had done those things he’d said she
had, she must have had a really good reason. She just didn’t know what it was
yet.
“We
never saw him again,” he continued. “The people he’d stolen from sued his
estate and my mother. Eventually, we lost everything. Whatever he did with the
money, I don’t know, but we never saw a penny of it.”
He
told the story impassively, though Clarissa could hear the bitterness
underlying his words.
“That’s
really awful,” she said sincerely. “I’m sorry.”
Langston
shrugged. “It is what it is. I learned from it, and now here I am catching
criminals. One day, maybe I’ll catch him.”
It
was quiet for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts. Clarissa kept her
eyes slanted Langston’s way, however. No way was she looking at the windows
again. He must have gotten tired of sitting hunched over because he lay down
with a sigh, an arm bent to cushion his head, and his knees up since the SUV
couldn’t accommodate his height.
“Might
as well get some sleep,” he observed. “It’s going to be a long night.”
Clarissa
scooted down until she was cuddled inside the sleeping bag. It was warm enough,
and though the floor of the SUV was hard, it was better than being outside. She
turned on her side to face him, away from the windows. It was odd, yet
comforting, being here with him, a near stranger. Though she supposed everyone
was a stranger to her now.
The
light from the glow stick wasn’t bright, but enough for her to see Langston. He
stared up at the ceiling of the SUV, seemingly unaware of her eyes on him. Despite
his epically bad sense of direction, she felt safe, which was incredibly
foolish of her. Langston was a man who saw things in black and white, was
unforgiving of those who broke the law, and his entire sense of purpose was to
bring to justice the people who’d committed those wrongs.
“Stop
staring,” he said, breaking the silence and startling Clarissa from her
musings. He turned his head, and their eyes
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