The Fugitive's Secret Child. Geri Krotow
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to life as a new single mom. There had been only two men who’d been close enough to help her at the time. Craig, another naval officer who worked on the same staff, and her brother Nolan, who’d just completed law school and was working as a lawyer in Virginia Beach. Nolan had also been a SEAL, and had gotten out of the Navy two years ahead of Trina. He had been as certain as she that Justin was dead. Killed in a raid some of her brother’s colleagues had participated in and survived.
“Not so smug now, are you?” His sharp words belied the stricken expression stamped on his face.
“There’s nothing to be smug about, you arrogant jerk.” She turned into the parking lot of a suite hotel and drove around to the back, out of sight of any main roads. As soon as she put the gearshift into Park, she faced him.
“I was with one of two men during that time. One was my brother, Nolan.”
She waited for him to turn, not giving a flying fish how much it hurt him. Because she’d hurt for so long, had finally moved on past her loss, and here he was, telling her he’d seen her and their child but had done nothing to broach the divide? Had not wanted to tell her he’d survived? Had picked his adrenaline-seeking career over her and the child he had to have known was his?
He turned, and she saw the glimmer of fear in his eyes. Fear? It couldn’t be.
“The other man—did you marry him?” His voice was a croak.
“He was, and is, one of my dearest, best friends. As a matter of fact, I was at his wedding this past spring. To his husband. He’s gay. I never married, and even if I’d wanted to, that was what, only eighteen, twenty months since you’d died? Scratch that, I mean went missing, right? Because you were alive all along.” She shook her head, followed by a single harsh laugh. “You know, a big part of me never believed it, that you were dead. As if I could feel you still alive on the planet. But my brother, my family, they all told me I had to move on. To get past what had happened.”
“Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Move on.”
She didn’t answer him right away. Couldn’t. Because the man next to her, Rob, wasn’t Justin anymore. He was a stranger to her. And she had no idea what a man who hadn’t told her he’d survived would do once he discovered he had a son. “There’s no one in my life right now, if that’s what you’re asking.”
* * *
Trina was single. Available, but not to him. Rob hated the spark of light in his heart when she admitted she was solo at the moment.
He watched Trina as she coordinated their hotel room reservation, checked them in, fed the dog with food from the convenience store and continued to stay in touch with her US Marshals boss the entire time. She was the whirlwind of energy he remembered, and more. And because she was keeping her chain of command informed, he knew that Claudia was receiving the same information. All of the LEA chiefs in an area where a TH op was being conducted were alerted to report anything TH needed to know.
“Have you thought about getting some rest? We don’t know if we’ll have to move again, and it could come with no warning.” Rob stood at the kitchenette counter across from where she was perched on a barstool. The dog was still on his leash but Trina had tied it to her wrist, giving the puppy the security it needed while allowing it to sniff and roll about the strange room. Rob was grateful to be on his feet again. Standing was far less painful than sitting, and to get to and from a seated or reclining position was pure hell. The counter was the right height to lean against for support, too.
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