Chapter 2 The return

Island's POV

The oversized shirt hung to my thighs, soft from a hundred washes, and my feet were bare against the kitchen tile while the microwave hummed softly, counting down the last few seconds of my dinner.

Three. Two. One.

Ding.

Five pairs of eyes snapped toward it at the exact same time.

I sighed.

"None of you are getting any."

Five tails wagged anyway.

Atlas sat perfectly still like the distinguished gentleman he believed himself to be. Moose was already drooling on my kitchen floor. Pepper bounced impatiently on tiny paws while Nova paced circles around my legs. Scout, as always, leaned against my shin as if personal space had never been invented.

"You all act like I don't feed you."

Five blank stares.

"Traitors."

Pepper barked.

"I know," I muttered. "Life is hard."

I opened the microwave and pulled out my reheated pasta, the smell of garlic and tomato filling the kitchen. It wasn't homemade. It wasn't even particularly good.

But after a twelve-hour shift, edible was all I cared about. I grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator before making my way into the living room.

The house was quiet. Always quiet. Well...As quiet as a home with five dogs could ever be.

They followed behind me like an oddly shaped parade.

I dropped onto the couch, balancing the bowl on my lap.

This was my favorite part of the day. Shoes off, phone ignored, no criminals, no paperwork, no blood. Just thirty uninterrupted minutes with terrible pasta and five judgmental dogs.

This was my life now. Special Agent Island Meyers, twenty-seven. Working in the Kansas City Field Office, homicides, missing persons and organized crime. Whatever landed on my desk, I worked it until there was nothing left to find.

It wasn't the life I'd planned.

The plan had been law school, contracts, torts, a corner office somewhere with a view and a nameplate. That version of me had a five-year plan and a boyfriend and a father who called every Sunday. Then one night...Everything changed.

But then again…this life was enough. Well…most days.

I sat, curled my legs under me, and had just speared the first bite of pasta when my phone buzzed against the coffee table.

I frowned.

Unknown Optimist…Right.

I'd saved his number under that after Tamika practically shoved me onto a date last week.

I unlocked my phone.

“Had a really great time last week. I'd love to see you again.”

I stared at the message. Then I snorted.

"Poor guy."

Atlas lifted his head.

"I know."

I typed back.

“I'd really love not to.”

Send.

Pepper barked once.

"I was polite."

Another bark.

"You don't think so?"

Scout rested his head on my knee.

"Exactly," I said, scratching behind his ears. "We're all entitled to boundaries."

The phone buzzed again.

I flipped it over without reading it.

"No."

Moose let out a low huff.

"Don't start."

"No wonder I'm single," I told the room. The room did not argue.

If Tamika ever found out I'd rejected another man before finishing my leftovers, I'd never hear the end of it. Her voice echoed in my head so clearly I could almost hear her standing in my kitchen.

"When was the last time you got laid, Island?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Actually, when was the last time you even went on a second date?"

She hadn't waited for an answer.

"You're uptight, and stubborn as fuck and you treat romance like it's a bloody felony. It's always work, another case, another crime scene, another murderer. Come on, girl. You can't keep living in the past forever, move on."

Move on? Like it was a decision. Like you could just…decide.

If only she knew.

Nobody understood. Nobody had stood in that hallway ten years ago. Nobody had heard what I heard, seen what I saw, held…

No.

Nobody had looked at the mark carved into his face. Nobody had watched detectives stand around his body, pretending they understood what they were looking at. Nobody had heard them whisper,

“What the hell could've done this?”

Nobody...Except me. And I had spent the last ten years wishing I hadn't.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Not tonight. I wasn't doing this tonight.

Atlas nudged my arm with his nose.

"I'm okay."

A lie. He knew it and I knew it.

I pushed another bite of pasta around the plate instead of eating it and reached for the remote, but dropped it back again.

The room fell quiet again. Only the soft clink of my fork against the bowl broke the silence.

Then…My phone rang.

I groaned.

"Oh, for the love of..."

Seriously? This guy couldn't take a hint?

"I'm blocking him."

I reached for the phone without looking.

Then I froze.

Chief Rob. My boss at the precinct.

My stomach tightened. Chief Rob never called after hours unless something had gone very, very wrong.

I answered immediately.

"Meyers…Where the hell are you?"

He barked into the phone.

"Home."

"Not anymore."

His voice was clipped and urgent.

"Get down to Fifty-seventh and Eighth. Now."

I was already standing.

"What happened?"

Silence…Too much silence. Then…

"We've got a homicide."

I reached for my jacket hanging over the chair.

"I'm on my…"

"Meyers."

His voice stopped me cold.

"This one..."

Another pause.

"Looks like what you've been chasing for the last ten years."

Everything inside me stopped. The room, the dogs, the air in my lungs.

"What did you say?"

"The victim has a mark."

My grip tightened around the phone.

“What…what mark?”

"A star."

My fingers went numb and the bowl slipped from my hands and shattered across the hardwood floor.

None of the dogs moved. They were all watching me…waiting.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

No. It couldn't be. Not after all these years.

"I'm leaving now."

I ended the call before he could say another word.

Atlas was already standing by the front door. He didn't bark. He never barked when I left for work. He'd learned to recognize that look on my face years ago. The look that meant I wasn't coming home anytime soon.

I holstered my service weapon, clipped my badge to my belt, grabbed my keys, and opened the door.

The cold night air rushed in.

Ten years.

Ten years of dead ends. Ten years of chasing shadows. Ten years of praying I'd never see that mark again...and hating myself for wanting to.

I opened my car door and entered the car.

Whatever was waiting for me at Fifty-seventh and Eighth, I already knew one thing. Tonight wasn't the beginning.

It was the continuation of something that had started ten years ago.

If Chief Rob was right...My ghost had finally come back.