his community, protect the innocent, and all of that was true. But the main reason stemmed from the man named Charles Hartsman. “I want my life to mean something.” He looked her straight in the eye. “I want what you went through to . . .” He let out a frustrated breath. “I want it to be for something.”
She was staring at him so intensely, hanging on every word, and he suddenly felt embarrassed. Vulnerable. Unsure. But then he spotted it, the pride in her eyes. The . . . what was it? Relief? A mix of emotions he didn’t know her well enough to break down. “Oh, Reed. You don’t ever have to feel like you need to make up for what he did. You bear no responsibility for that. None.”
He nodded, looked away. He knew that. He knew that. Or at least he did on a rational level. But in his heart, a specific desire burned brighter. The need to prove he belonged. That he wasn’t just a terrible accident not meant to happen. That his existence mattered—not only to him or those who loved him, but to others too. Strangers who might one day be thankful he’d shown up in their life when he did. “I know.” Only his voice sounded unconvincing, even to himself. A flicker of worry crossed through Josie’s eyes, but he still saw the pride there too.
“Good.” She paused. “You’ve had a good life so far, Reed.”
She hadn’t posed it as a question. After all, she’d obviously kept up on his life. He knew his adoptive mom had sent Josie pictures and annual updates, even before he’d walked into her house and seen the many photos on the wall, but he answered it anyway so she’d have confirmation from him. “Yes. I’ve had a great life so far.”
She smiled, reaching out tentatively. He offered her his hands and she took them, squeezing gently. “Good,” she breathed. “It’s all I ever wanted.”
With her touch, conviction filled Reed. Yes, he’d work hard, for Josie, for his adoptive parents who’d raised him to respect life and others. Every day, he’d strive to honor the people who’d loved him so deeply. Both from up close . . . and from afar.
CHAPTER TWO
Ten Years Later
Reed sidestepped his overserved co-worker before he could stumble into him, stepping off the small platform the bar used as a karaoke stage.
“One more!” he heard Broyer yell as he headed toward the bar. “Oh shit, they’ve got ‘Purple Rain.’ Come on, guys. ‘Purple Rain’!”
No fucking way. Reed laughed over his shoulder, holding up his hand and gesturing an I’m done signal. He’d only joined the guys in a boisterous rendition of “Another One Bites the Dust” because it was his co-worker DiCrescenzo’s bachelor party and he’d been pressured to serenade the guy. They hadn’t been . . . awful, but then again, he’d had a couple of beers since he’d arrived an hour ago, and the other guys had been there since eight and it was now almost midnight. He didn’t plan on catching up to them, but if he was going to resist leaving early like he wanted to, it would take at least another drink—maybe three.
He moved through the smallish crowd, finding an opening at the bar and leaning forward to see that the bartender was busy pouring a line of martinis from a silver shaker at the other end. A girl in a leopard-print top standing in front of the line of drinks raised her arms and let out a loud squeal. The three girls surrounding her followed suit.
“That was something.”
He swiveled his head as a blonde directly next to him took a casual sip from the glass of white wine she was holding in her elegant fingers. When she lowered her glass, she turned to face him, and his mouth went dry. Jesus. Something punched hard at his gut, nearly stealing his air. She looked like an angel. All lips and eyes and supple skin. She’d said something to him. What had she said? That was something. For a second, he couldn’t figure out what in the world she was talking about. Then it dawned, she must have watched him and the guys on stage.
He grinned. “Thanks.”
“I didn’t mean it as a compliment.” The line was delivered as dry as smoke, though a teasing glint entered her wide, blue eyes.
Surprised laughter bubbled out of Reed, his smile ending in a grimace as he put his hand to his heart.