11. Will

11

WILL

Six months later…

R ain splatters the windows of the Wild Taste Bar and Restaurant, making it difficult to concentrate on the report in front of me.

I've taken to working in a corner table at HQ some days just in case Stella turns up looking for me.

"Give me five minutes and I could put you out of your misery."

Bit Rate slides into the seat next to me and opens his laptop. He pulls on his beard thoughtfully. "Might take a bit longer if we need to use facial recognition."

It's not the first time he's offered to hack into systems to try to find Stella.

I fix him with a wary look. "Is it legal? "

Bit Rate scratches his beard and looks away. "It's the quickest way to find her."

Which tells me everything I need to know. As tempting as what he's offering is, I can't be on the wrong side of the law.

Which leaves me at the mercy of Cleo, waiting until she hears from Stella.

It took me a few weeks of wallowing in self-pity to realize I wasn't going to forget Stella easily. And to realize that maybe what she wrote on the note wasn't all she was feeling.

When I replay the weekend in my mind there's definitely a connection between us, and she must have felt it too. The way she nestled into me, the way our bodies gravitated to each other overnight, the last time we made love.

If only I'd said something to her then, maybe things might have been different. But I told her it was a fling from the start, and I never said it was anything else. Of course she wasn't going to wait around for a guy who only wanted a fling. I guess when the Crows left, she went with them.

By the time I got myself off my own ass and tried to track her down, she was gone.

I took a trip out to the west coast, driving for two days straight. I went straight to the Underground Crows HQ. Turns out they aren't bad guys after all. Quite hospitable and with as many kids running around their club as we have .

Cleo and Kray were welcoming, but I missed Stella by a few days.

It turns out her and Cleo aren't real sisters, not blood ones anyway. I don't know why Stella didn't tell me. They met when they shared the same foster home for two years.

When I met Stella, she'd been staying with Cleo for two months. And it didn't seem odd to Cleo when she moved on.

Cleo said she often goes long spells without hearing from Stella.

It made me wonder what else I don't know about her. It seemed like there was more Cleo wanted to say but she didn't.

I scoured the coast looking for her. I contacted every long-term care facility on the west coast. But none of them knew of a Stella.

I came back to the mountain frustrated but more determined than ever to find her.

As weeks turned into months, I began to wonder if I imagined that weekend together. If the connection we shared was real.

A hand comes down heavy on my shoulder, and I glance up into the concerned eyes of Bit Rate.

"Maybe it's time to move on, bro. I know it isn't easy. But you look like shit, and your grumpy face is scaring away the customers."

He of all people should know. Bit Rate lost his wife four years ago. It's what propelled him out of the military in a fit of grief and anger .

He went from working intel for the military to raising two small kids on his own. A string of unsuitable nannies means they're often here at the clubhouse and getting in everyone's way. Two wild little girls with a grumpy dad who just wants to hide away at home and lose himself in shoot em' up video games.

He's in here now because there's a problem with the club's internet provider.

Bit Rate manages the IT for the club and its businesses. It's a gross underuse of his skills, but it keeps him close to home where his girls need him.

Maybe he's right and it's time to move on. But whenever I think about giving up on Stella, I remember her easy laugh and soft look and I can't let myself forget her.

"Maybe," I say noncommittally.