her high school years had she felt the need to validate someone else’s feelings about her. Because no one ever felt anything for her.
“I want you to know this means something to me.”
He wasn’t talking about the sex. Hell, she would have owned up to that early on had he taken her up on her offer. He was talking about them, together. It was as close to anyone saying they loved her as she had gotten in her entire life.
The “I love you, baby” in the stacks didn’t count.
Amnesiac Olivia had to know if he hated her.
Richter Olivia justified the desire to reach out by saying he needed to know he didn’t have to hide. That the shooter was aiming at her.
And since Amnesiac and Richter were both on the same yard line, Olivia crawled off the bed, retrieved her computer, and pulled it on her lap.
A few keystrokes in and she nudged Leo’s computer.
If he wasn’t online, she wouldn’t see it.
She closed her eyes and pressed Enter.
He was there.
Or at least his computer was on and linked to the internet. She waited, holding her breath for him to do anything to indicate that he was in fact sitting in front of the screen.
The screen shifted to a search engine, and Olivia’s heart jumped in her chest.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
A message from Neil said his crew was done and to call him before Leo tried to enter his own house.
For thirty minutes Neil walked him through the new system over the phone. Just the basics. Details would be explained on the weekend when Leo promised to be in Neil’s office to make good on his search for Olivia.
There wasn’t a care package for dinner, but there was a note on the refrigerator.
You’re a slob, Grant. Clean this or throw it out . . . but for fuck’s sake, put it out of its misery.
He pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with the goal of tackling the mess so it was safe to go to the grocery store and refill the thing. After two months of home-cooked meals, he looked at the deli sandwich he’d grabbed on the way home with disinterest.
What he really wanted was mashed potatoes.
He dragged his laptop to the small dining table and brought his bagged dinner with him.
After a couple of bites, he logged in to Amazon and started searching for a couple of kitchen gadgets he’d used at the cabin and found useful.
He walked away to grab a bottle of water and heard his computer ping with a message.
He twisted off the cap on the water and opened his chiming chat screen.
Hello, Mr. FBI.
Leo dropped the bottle. It hit the table, bounced off the chair, and fell to the floor . . . water spilled.
He scrambled to the keyboard. Olivia?
The second he typed her name, both messages disappeared like the invisible ink function on an iPhone.
“No, no, no, no, no!” He couldn’t type fast enough. Are you there?
Yes.
The words disappeared.
He sat, ignoring the mess he’d made, or the water as it soaked into his pants. Where are you?
His words were gone in the time it took to read them.
Please don’t go.
You were not the target.
Leo’s fingers hovered over his keyboard. If he told her he knew that, would she then log off? If he argued, would she engage?
You don’t know that. He pressed send and waited.
If I learn otherwise, I will contact you.
Panic rose in his throat. Her words sounded like goodbye. Don’t go. Tell me you’re okay.
His words vanished.
How can I get ahold of you? I can help you. Let me.
No response.
He pounded his fists on the table. She needed to hear him. How could he make her listen?
We deserve a chance.
Silence.
Leo swallowed hard. I love you. He pressed send, hated that he had to type the words he’d never said to a woman who wasn’t family before.
The words faded . . .
Did she see them? Was she still there?
Loving me will only get you killed. I’m sorry.
He closed his eyes. It’s a chance I’m willing to take. He pressed send, and a screen popped up. Message undeliverable. Address not available.
“Fuck!”
Forty minutes later he sat in Neil’s headquarters with Claire typing away on his computer and Neil quizzing the conversation.
“Are you sure it was her?” Neil asked.
“She addressed me as Mr. FBI. It was a joke . . . kind of. Yes, it was her.”