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’ ‘May we see the car, sir?’ ‘Why?’ Shit, David thought. They walk in and touch the hood and they’ll know it’s recently been ran. It hadn’t been too long since he’d gotten home with the redheaded slut in the basement. ‘We need to verify it’s there, sir.’ ‘Check in the window of the garage, it’s there.’ He made as if to close the front door, stopping only when Gabe’s hand blocked it from closing completely. ‘What?’ ‘I need to inspect the vehicle, sir. I’m sorry if we are keeping you but there’s a girl out there who’s been taken from her family and I’m just trying to do my job and get her back in one piece.’ ‘You got a warrant?’ ‘No, but I can get one if you wish. Of course, then I’m going to be wondering why you’re throwing such a huge fit about letting us see the car and I might have that warrant extended to the house and it’s contents as well.’ Gabe let that sentence hang, waiting. ‘Fine. Go out front and I’ll open the garage door. It might take me a couple minutes. I broke some. I had sex. I talked and flirted. Sometimes I was rejected, sometimes I was awarded. On every date though, I thought of Heather. There was a connection there, one that seemed so hard to break. At the end of the date, just when Heather had escaped my mind, and I was leaning in for the kiss from the date I was with, my phone would beep. Every time. There would be a text, a text from Heather. She wrote one of two things. Either a smiley face, or ‘I miss you.’ I prayed every night, sometimes crying, that God would take Heather away from my thoughts, as I could not think of anyone else. Eventually, I stopped hearing from her. She stopped sending me pictures of her and her son. I heard stories about how her boyfriend, the pro ball player, and she were so happy. I also heard another side, about how when they were together there was a certain lack of intimacy that she and I shared when we hung out. I would say together, but, although during those three months we went on several lunch dates,.
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