Misguided Vows: Chapter 26

Thomas is driving on the outskirts of Los Angeles, following my directions. I look down at my phone and flick through the photos and video footage I have of Alina. I don’t like being so far away from her. It’s unsettling to live only through my devices to watch her.

Thomas glances down at the phone briefly and clears his throat. He doesn’t look like he’s slept a wink since his daughter went missing.

“Is that a new target of yours?” he asks.

I lazily smirk. “Something like that.” I close the phone, not wanting anything from my past to mix with my present.

He sighs, and it reminds me of how defeated I’d been those years ago. I’m exhausted, as if I’ve been sucked back into that vortex.

I’d tracked the car his daughter had last been seen in, and as I look around the sketchy area and what looks like a disorganized scrap yard, a sinking feeling settles low in my stomach.

Thomas pulls over and kills the headlights. We step out of the car in unison, and the scrap yard might as well be a graveyard. There’s no security or even fencing, just a random spot where cars have been dumped.

“Let’s see what we can find,” I say as my eyes adjust to the dark. I slip my hands into my pockets as I turn left and he goes right, looking for the same license plate or make and model of the car I’d given him.

I walk through the random cars until I set my sights on one that might meet the description I have, except this one’s been blown out by a fire. I look down and notice the license plates have been removed.

I shine my light on the interior, which doesn’t give too much away except charred seats and smoke damage. I stop at the trunk, and I have a bad feeling as I lean over to pick the lock. It pops open, and I cover my nose from the stench that escapes.

My stomach sinks as I look down at the burned-to-a-crisp body. From what I can tell, it was most likely a woman.

Reluctantly, I blow out a shrill whistle and wait for Thomas to track back to me. I don’t want him to see this. I know the feeling well, and my jaw grinds that I was too late to stop this from happening.

“Did you find something?” Thomas asks, hopeful. Before I can warn him, he looks in the trunk, and his face twists as he speaks his daughter’s name. He drops to his knees as he touches the necklace that hadn’t completely melted.

“My baby girl!” he cries, and I take a step back, cowering into my own memories. Of the woman I’d loved and lost and the powerlessness I felt to protect her. “My girl!” he screams, and I don’t have the heart to tell him to remain quiet. I’d fight off an army for him right now if it’ll give him even a moment to grieve. “Who would do this to you!” He begins to sob.

Whoever abandoned this car tried to leave no loose ends. Had they been smart, they would’ve dumped it into a body of water or at least not been so clumsy with the body. What I do know is that she deserves a better grave than this.

I leave Thomas for the time being and scour the area. I find what I’m looking for—a tarp covering another car. I undo the plastic sheet and return to Thomas, dumping it at his feet.

He stares at it, confused, destroyed, not really here.

“She deserves to be taken home,” I say gently, putting my hand on his shoulder. “She deserves to be properly buried with her family.”

He begins to sob again, crumbling under my hand.

I take a deep breath and hold my nose as I pull the body out of the trunk and then lay it down on the tarp, intending to wrap her up. There’s nothing dignified about this. But it’s the best we can do and the very least she deserves.

Thomas seems in shock as he watches me carry his daughter back to our car. “I told the police, but they didn’t believe me at first. They took too long,” he says angrily from behind me, and I recognize the pure hatred that fuels him now. Because I’d been there. It’s something that still lingers so closely under my own surface. I feel like I’m looking at a reflection of myself.

“I’ll find the person who did this to her. I promise you that much.”

Because everyone should be found and returned to where they belong.

Some lives are just taken too soon.