Firefly Run Read Free Page A

again, even tried to smile. "I get a little closer every day." She lowered her eyes to the rough tabletop. "At least I did. Today I feel like I’ve been jerked back to square one."
    Without thinking, he placed his hand atop hers. "I’m sorry."
    Her lip trembled as she tried again to smile. "It’s not your fault."
    But it was. If he hadn’t been so driven to see the Victor clan and their ilk behind bars, Troy would still be alive. He had no doubt Eddie had come for him that day, but when he hadn’t been where Eddie’d expected, the drug kingpin had settled for second best and ended Troy’s life instead. If only he’d put his libido on hold for a few minutes, Troy and Shelly would be happily married now, maybe even have a child. But where would he, Reed Tanner, be? Dead probably. And if by some miracle they’d all survived, he’d still be as alone as he was now.
    The selfish thought caused him to pull back his hand. He had no right to touch Shelly, no right to notice she was still beautiful despite the trauma she’d endured. He’d thought so since the moment Troy had introduced them, but he’d never considered making a move on his best friend’s love. And he wouldn’t do so now.
    He stood suddenly, almost toppling his chair. He caught it, then carried his plate to the sink and turned on the faucet.
    "I’ll do that."
    "I can clean my own plate." He said the words more sharply than he’d intended or she deserved. He placed the plate in the sink and stared at it. "Sorry. Guess I’m tired."
    She stood, then approached him. He’d known her for five years. Why was he so nervous around her? Must be the guilt over not preventing her husband’s death.
    Damn, he wanted to run, run until his legs and lungs gave out.
    Thank goodness she didn’t touch him, but some sort of fruity scent wafted up to him, making him ache to seek out its source. He closed his eyes in a vain attempt to block the image.
    "It’s okay to miss him, but you have to let go." Shelly’s voice was soothing, tempting him to...what?
    "You sound like a shrink."
    "No, I sound like my mom, who in my opinion is a million times better than some impersonal doctor I’d have to pay to talk to." She paused. "Have you talked to anyone, Reed?"
    He finished washing the plate and stuck it in the dish drainer. "What’s there to talk about? My best friend’s dead, and talking won’t bring him back."
    He had probably hurt her again, but what could he do? It’s how he felt. Talking about feelings was something women did, women and fancy doctors who liked to dissect people’s minds.
    She started to step closer, but he moved away from the sink and toward the front door. "Thanks for the sandwich. I’ll go get my things."
    Though his instinct urged him to run as fast as his legs could carry him, he forced himself to walk calmly out the front door as if this were any other of the hundreds of cases he’d worked. But there wasn’t anything normal or ordinary about this case. It was his atonement, his only chance to make it up to Troy for not being there when he’d needed him most. Outsiders might not understand. Psychologists might think it unhealthy. It might not even make sense, but it’s how he felt and there was no escaping it.
    ****
     
     
     
    CHAPTER TWO
    Shelly remained in the kitchen with her back to the door, stunned by the depth of the pain she’d seen in Reed’s eyes. She knew exactly how he felt, that torturous gnawing in his gut, the sleepless nights, the midnight wanderings, the endless string of what-ifs. Reed hadn’t moved through any of the stages of grief. He was still living that one day over and over. She knew. She’d been there.
    With a sigh, she moved toward the door. No wonder he looked so tired. His mind hadn’t truly rested since the day Troy had died. When she stepped out onto her porch, Reed was already striding back toward the cabin, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder.
    He still walked the same, and it reminded her of those