Chapter Text
The hum of the trail still lingered in their bones, even though the case was long wrapped. Reenie stepped into the Airstream with her usual quiet confidence, tugging off her jacket as the door clicked shut behind her.
“Client said to give you this,” she said, tossing a folded wad of bills onto the counter beside his coffee mug. “Said you saved her life. It should be more than enough to cover your caffeine addiction.”
Colter gave a small, tired chuckle as he reached for the half-full mug of dark roast. “Wouldn’t be too sure about that.”
Reenie laughed and shook her head, walking past him and collapsing into the seat across the little table.
For a few moments, there was nothing but the warmth of the coffee and the quiet between them. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it rarely was. But something in the air tonight was different.
Her gaze drifted. That’s when she saw it.
A worn cardboard box, sitting on the side counter, was partially open, a folder peeking out. On the top, scrawled with bold ink: ASHTON SHAW.
“Ashton Shaw?” she asked gently, reading the name written in marker. “Isn’t that your father?”
Colter froze. He didn’t answer right away.
Reenie tilted her head. “Did you find out something new, other than the fact that we know Russell didn’t do it?”
He exhaled slowly, like the truth had been pressing against his ribs all day. “Yeah. Some pieces are starting to fall into place. Enough to make me wish they weren’t.”
She watched him carefully, the way his jaw tightened, the crease that formed between his brows.
“I found out my father died under circumstances that don’t add up. And there’s a chance my mother knew something about it, maybe even helped cover it up.”
Reenie didn’t speak. Just listened.
“I don’t even know who to trust anymore. First it was Russel, now it may be my mom,” he added, voice lower now. “Everything I thought I understood about my family… It’s like the ground shifted and I never got my footing back.”
And then, he broke.
Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just a subtle unravelling. His eyes glistened, his voice caught in his throat, and his fingers gripped the edge of the table like it was the only thing anchoring him.
She reached across instinctively, her hand finding his.
Warm. Steady. Firm.
Colter looked up, eyes rimmed red, and she saw the weight he always carried but never shared. The walls cracked open, and she couldn’t look away.
God, she thought. He always looked so solid. So composed. But right now… he’s just human. And hurting.
Something shifted.
A tension they’d danced around for months finally stretched too tight and snapped.
And then he leaned across the table, slow, unsure, and kissed her.
Soft. Careful at first. Her breath caught. His thumb brushed her jaw. Her mind went blank, her heart thundering in her chest. Every unsaid word, long look, and moments where they’d almost leaned in but didn’t bled into that kiss.
Then it deepened.
Her fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, and suddenly he was standing, moving around the table, his mouth never leaving hers. She rose to meet him, their bodies pressed flush, mouths hungry, hands everywhere exploring, discovering.
Clothes came off with urgency. Shirts lifted. Fingers fumbled at buttons.
He guided her toward the bed in the back of the Airstream without a word, just soft gasps and heavy breathing filling the space. She fell back onto the mattress, and he followed, hovering, pausing, searching her eyes.
They didn’t speak.
They didn’t need to.
What they shared wasn’t just about release but about need. Connection. Years of running and resisting crashing into this one, impossible moment where they both said yes with their bodies when their words always faltered.
And when it was done, he stayed close. His forehead pressed to hers, one hand stroking the side of her thigh, breath still catching in his throat.
In that quiet moment, there was peace; a rare, fragile comfort they both desperately needed. But deep down, they knew it couldn’t last. The past was still out there, waiting, and it was only a matter of time before it caught up with them.