The Missing Pattern

Into the Abyss Part 16

The sun crept through the blinds, spilling across my room in pale stripes. My eyes opened slowly, registering the familiar surroundings of my bedroom, the remnants of restless sleep clinging to me. I blinked, trying to remember where I was, why my body ached like it had been put through hell. The clock blinked back at me—11:20 a.m. The sunlight felt almost like an intrusion, harsh and blinding against the shadows in my mind.

I was still in my bed the one we'd shared the night before. The sheets tangled around us were like a physical manifestation of the mess we'd made, a reminder of everything that had happened. The heat of Calvin's body was a constant against mine, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. For a moment, I let myself feel the quiet peace of it, a fleeting reprieve from the chaos of my life.

But peace was an illusion. The weight of everything else crashed back on me—the case, the missing girls, Kiara's face flashing through my mind, the never-ending chase. My body ached—not just from the bruises, the gunshot wound, or the fatigue that had soaked into my bones, but from the burden of the hunt. The gnawing darkness I was sinking into, slowly, inch by inch. I didn't know if I could claw my way out.

I shifted, careful not to wake him, but Calvin stirred anyway. His arm tightened around me, pulling me closer. His lips brushed the back of my neck, warm and comforting.

"Where are you going?" His voice was thick with sleep, rough and low, but there was a possessiveness in his tone that stirred something deep inside me, something I wasn't sure I could let myself feel.

I didn't want to pull away. I didn't want to face the world again. Not today. Not like this. But I had no choice. There was no escaping it.

But Calvin's arm tightened around me, a gentle restraint. "And where exactly do you think you're going?" His voice was low and thick with sleep, rough around the edges but laced with a quiet insistence. "Remember, you promised me a little more rest."

I froze, caught between the pull of the mission and the warmth of his presence. Part of me wanted to stay in this moment, wanted to just let everything fall away, even if only for a few minutes. But I had no choice. "We need to get up," I murmured, feeling the grit in my voice, the exhaustion buried in every word. "There's work to do. Your day job's calling; night duty's over. And it's already 11:25."

He didn't loosen his hold immediately. Instead, he looked at me with that half-smile, something playful and knowing in his eyes. "Five more minutes, Harper," he whispered. "Then we face the world. We catch some bad guys and find those girls."

I sighed, giving in, letting his warmth and strength steady me, even if just for five more minutes. The hunt could wait—just for now.

His grip was firm, grounding me as he drew me closer. "Kitty Kat," he murmured, his lips brushing my shoulder, "You're not alone in this. I've got your back, always. We'll get these guys."

His words chipped away at something frozen inside me. I met his gaze, seeing a warmth there I wasn't ready to acknowledge—something I craved but couldn't afford to need.

"I'm not letting anyone else get taken," I said, my voice low, a vow wrapped in desperation. But it felt hollow. I knew I couldn't make promises in a world like this.

Calvin's thumb brushed my jaw, his eyes steady, unwavering. "Neither am I. We'll find them—together."

I glanced at the clock and cleared my throat. "It's time," I said, pulling away. "I'll be ready in five." I had to move, to shake off the softness clinging to me. Calvin watched but didn't try to hold me back—he knew me too well for that.

After we washed up, he helped me ease into my shirt and jacket, his hands lingering on my shoulders. I shot him a sharp look. "Don't get distracted on me, Calvin. I need you focused. Full attention on this case."