Page 73 of Engaging Opal

LEVI

Levi doesn’t mind working long hours at the Salt Lake City FBI field office. Going home to an empty house is depressing, with no one there to greet him on his return. Of course, that would change once he had his girl back. There would be a purpose in returning home on time with Olina there waiting for him.

Until then, he would put in the long hours, stockpiling his overtime cash.

It’s nearly midnight when his computer dings with an alert, echoing around the deathly silent office space.

Levi’s eyes close as he wills himself not to get his hopes up. He’d been let down so many times before. It was a stab to the chest every time it wasn’t anything about Olina, but another missing person.

Slowly, Levi opens his eyes, focusing on his computer monitor. It’s a notification from National Center for Missing and Exploited Children—Olina Allred’s name fills the identity box.

Levi’s blood spikes with adrenaline. He aggressively jabs at the keyboard to access the file. Quickly, Levi scans the information regarding the alert of his girl. Someone had requested access to her high school transcripts. Nobody steals high school transcripts. Only people interested in requesting their grades would request such paperwork.

It has to be Olina…or whoever has her.

The records were transferred to Front Range Community College in Fort Collins, Colorado.

Colorado?Hmm.Olina had never ventured outside of Utah before, but she was seen leaving the club with an unidentified biker gang. Who knows if she’s still with these men or not?

Levi isn’t exactly a cyber genius, but it’s not that difficult to hack into a community college admissions office cyber system when there are FBI resources at your fingertips. After an hour of chiseling through firewalls, Levi accesses Olina’s file under her birth name. She’s enrolled in a GED program. Olina was book smart. He’s not surprised she wants to earn her diploma.

The likelihood she’s still under the thumb of a biker gang seems less likely if she’s enrolled in an educational program. From Levi’s experience, bikers aren’t keen on letting their women better themselves. Oddly, Levi understood why. The more a woman advances herself, the less power a man holds over her.

This is promising. Hopefully, it means there wouldn’t be anyone to stand in his way when he goes to retrieve her. Not that a biker gang would stop him, regardless. Nothing will prevent him from getting Olina back.

All is good ‘till Levi accesses her personal information. The trail goes cold once he realizes her class is online and her housing address is bogus. It’s a chunk of land with nothing on it owned by some retired Navy captain. There’s a cell number, but it could easily be a burner. Calling her might tip her off that her cover is blown. She’d run, for sure. Levi doesn’t want to start from square one. The deposit was paid in full, with cash—basically, untraceable.

Losing his temper, Levi slams his fist on top of his desk. “Fuck!”

Several deep breaths later, Levi runs a hand over his face to collect himself. He focuses on the positives. He may not have her exact location, but he’s fairly confident she wouldn’t pick a community college in an area she wasn’t residing close to, especially if she went to the campus to pay for her tuition with cash—nobody mails in that much money.

Renewed, Levi constructs a thorough report to present to his superiors. With luck, they’ll grant him his request to pursue deeper into the investigation. A cold case is never closed. Resuming the investigation with new vigor would be the perfect cover to hunt down his obsession. After months of nothing, this was the break he’d been dreaming about—a step closer to having Olina back.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN

GAUGE

My life has turned into Dante’sNinth Circle of Hell, full of iciness and severe self-deprivation. A week without her being mine and I’m already losing it. My heart has frozen without her loving warmth.

Opal is ingrained in every facet of my life. I can’t walk past the kitchen without smelling the home good bakery she creates daily. It takes all my willpower to not enter her domain, not even for a peek at the woman who still holds my heart.

When I enter a room and she exists, I breathe in the surrounding air, trying to catch a whiff of her tangy peach scent. My eyes seem to have a life of their own, tracking her every movement, hoping, praying, her eyes will rise to meet mine just once. But they never do. The worst is at night when I watch her sleep in a bed that’s not mine. It’s torture to see her looking like an angel resting her head on a pillow instead of on my chest, and that’s the better choice compared to the nights she’s not here but staying with Jo.

My fingers itch to reach out to her, needing to feel her against my skin. The taste of her on my tongue is a fading memory that I fight to keep at the forefront of my mind. Yet, what I miss most is the sound of her bubbly voice spreading happiness to anyone she talks to. She doesn’t talk too much anymore. Well, at least not in earshot of me.

Opal has been…okay. She carries on, completely tuning out my existence. I walk into the room and she ignores me. The more she ignores my gaze, the harder I stare. You’d think we were never a couple with hownormalshe’s behaving. Sometimes I get under her skin, but she removes herself from my presence, choosing to avoid contact at all costs.

It’s as it should be, but it pisses me the fuck off. I’m well aware I can’t have my cake and eat it too. That doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.

In fact, I’m miserable. Not that I expected it to be all fine and dandy—I knew I’d suffer, but I had no concept of how much.

Is it wrong that I expected some pushback from Opal? Selfish? Yes. But wrong?

We were a couple who loved each other more than life itself. She was my everything, and I stupidly thought I was hers.

I was prepared for crying, begging, screaming. But indifference… Damn.

Part of me knows it should relieve me she’s accepting we’re done. Though another part, a bigger and growing larger by the day portion, hates to see her moving on.

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