They didn’t need to hold his hand through this, but why’d he find himself gripping the back of his neck where the bundle of nerves there seemed to twist?
“You were a cop in LA?” That piece of information had Mya’s interest piqued. “So, before you were a sheriff in Walkins Glen, you worked in California?” Her question came across more like a statement in search of confirmation.
He mussed up his hair as he considered the words he’d be comfortable sharing. “I always planned to go into law enforcement. And I wanted the opposite of my small town. I chose LA because I hate the cold, so New York City was out of the question,” he finally revealed. “After I graduated college, I joined the academy in LA. Seeing all the problems with gangs and drugs, I decided I wanted to work my way into the Narcotics Division and become a detective.” Okay, that’s enough backstory there.
“Oh.” The little sound slipped from Mya’s lips as if she were already filling in the rest of his story herself.
Beckett shifted his focus to Sydney, and why was this next part so hard for him to share? Was he worried she’d think he was an idiot for allowing a woman to con him? Just get it over with. But he couldn’t seem to look away from her as he spoke. “I come from a music-loving family. In my free time, I’d go to a few jazz and blues clubs on the weekends.” There’s a point to this, I swear.
“I remember Jesse telling us your hometown was named after your dad and another guy there. Walker and Hawkins combined, right?” Oliver spoke up. “Walkins Glen. Except there’s no actual glen in your town,” he added with a light tone, and Beckett looked his way to see him smiling. “Your dad was a musician after the military . . . and then took over running the ranch.”
Beckett nodded. “Like I said, music is in my blood. So, I used to hang out at one specific place regularly, and that’s where I met a singer.”
“Cora,” Mya whispered.
Beckett’s throat grew tight, his heart rate climbing now that he’d reached this part of his story—a story that’d suddenly gone from bullet points to full-blown detail. “One night, a couple of guys were trying to mug her outside the club, and I stepped in to help. After that, we started dating.” He thought back to that night and the sight of Cora standing next to her red Civic, trying to shove away the two men harassing her, demanding money. It was all an act. “She pulled the whole damsel-in-distress thing on me as a way to con her way into my life.”
Beckett turned and set a hand to the wall, bracing himself as he prepared to share the part of the story that always dismantled him. He’d loved that woman with everything he had, and in turn, she’d ripped his heart out and destroyed him. Destroyed his ability to ever trust or allow himself to love another woman again. But as much as Cora had hurt him, he wouldn’t change a thing. She’d given him McKenna.
“You can stop.” Sydney’s hand landed on his shoulder. “You don’t need to do this now. Not down here.”
He shifted away from the wall, her hand slipping away in the process. “It’s fine. I’m fine. You should sit.”
She angled her head and continued to study him as though she understood the scope of his pain. Maybe she did?
“I’d rather go ahead and get it over with.” I’ve come this far, so why not finish?
“She chose you as her mark because of your job, didn’t she?” Mya, the quick study, asked.
Beckett faced her, unable to get through the next part of this conversation while finding himself lost in Sydney’s gaze. “More like MS-13, the gang, did. She owed them a favor. Cora was always getting involved with the wrong people. And I was someone the gang couldn’t buy. They couldn’t put me on their payroll. So, they found another way to get to me,” he confessed, feeling foolish all over again.
“What happened?” Mya was on her feet now, her reporter brain most likely working overtime, possibly plotting the potential outcomes of how his story went.
Uncomfortable, he attempted to shove his hands into his pockets, forgetting he was still soaking wet from their dive into the cenote. So instead, he crossed his arms once again, trying to get control of his emotions. To fight off the demons of his past that were more real than the “ghosts” in the jungle.
“Six months into our relationship, she accidentally got pregnant. I proposed, thinking that was the right thing to do. We never got married though.” He paused for a breath to collect himself. “And then, a few days before McKenna was born, I caught her going through my work computer at our apartment.” He swallowed the lump down his throat. “She tried to lie her way out of what she was doing, but then she broke down and confessed.”
He resisted the urge to close his eyes, to travel back in time to that night. In truth, he didn’t want to relive that moment. But more times than he could count, he did relive memories just like that one. How could he have been so blind to miss the signs she was using him to relay information to MS-13?
“Cora said they’d kill her if she didn’t trick me into dating her and then worm her way into my life. But then she said she fell in love with me. I know, she’s a con artist, so why believe her?” Beckett shook his head. He still had no clue if Cora ever truly loved him, but it didn’t matter. “I didn’t know what to do. She was about to have our child. And I needed time to figure out how to handle the news. Part of me wanted to throw her in jail. But how the hell could I do that?” His stomach turned at the memories piling one by one in his mind.
“What happened?” Mya softly asked.
Beckett blinked a few times. “Two days after McKenna was born, Cora disappeared. She left a note saying goodbye.”
“She just left?” Mya rasped, and yeah, it was a hard pill to swallow. Even for Beckett thirteen years later.
“Her note said McKenna would be safer without her in our lives. And she assumed the cartel would believe she betrayed them by leaving, so she’d need to go into hiding for a bit.” He closed his eyes this time, hoping his body didn’t betray him and show any physical signs of the emotional beating his memories gave him.
“Did you try to find her?” Mya asked.
“Of course.” Beckett opened his eyes to see Mya taking careful steps to not slip into the water as she sidled up alongside Sydney. “Not that I knew what in the hell I’d do if I found her. Fuck, she used me for months to help drug dealers and murderers. I decided it’d be safer to move back to Alabama and raise McKenna there.” He uncrossed his arms only to tighten his hands into fists at his sides. “I didn’t find Cora after that, but she found me. She’d call for help or show up from time to time. Never saw McKenna though. She just did her best to manipulate me to get what she needed. Money.”
“And you helped her?” Oliver asked in surprise as if he wouldn’t have done the same. But Oliver didn’t know what it was like to be a parent. It wasn’t so simple.
“She’s the mother of his child,” Sydney whispered before facing Beckett. “What else could he do?”
“You said earlier you haven’t heard from Cora in years, though, right? Three weeks ago was the first time in a while?” Mya reiterated.