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in Brian’s kitchen waiting for word on Lucky. Brian’s sitting at the bar calmly talking to the customer service manager. Turning on the Gamble charm, in an attempt to get her to bend the rules to gain access to the GPS on Lucky’s cell phone. He looks up and motions for me to grab him a pen and paper. I look frantically through the drawers to find them. Finally, I find some and slide them across the bar to Brian. He jots down what looks like an address.
    “Thank you so much for all your help, Amanda. The Seattle Police Department greatly appreciates what you’ve done.”
    That smooth talking son of a bitch did it.
    “Looks like we need to get your ass on a plane. Lucky’s at a hotel just outside San Diego. If you leave now, you can be there in a few hours.” He tosses me the notepad. I stare down at the scribbled address.
    Brian found her.
    He fucking found her.
    And in just a few short hours, she’ll be mine again.
    I bolt for the stairs to the guest room. Grabbing my duffel bag from the closet I frantically stuff in a change of clothes and my deodorant, then race back downstairs where Brian is waiting to drive me to the airport.
    Brooke gives me a hug goodbye and whispers, “Go get your girl.”
    A half an hour later Brian parks the car in the departure drop-off at the airport. Before I grab my bag from the backseat, I turn to Brian one last time.
    “Thank you again… for everything. For bailing me out of jail… for taking me into your home… and for helping me find Lucky.”
    “I know you would’ve done the same thing for me. I was just doing my job as your best friend.” He grins, patting me on the back. He’s been saving my ass far more than I have his. I owe him so much that it would take an eternity to pay him back.
    “You better get a move on, or you’ll miss your plane.”
    I grab my bag and climb out of the car, giving Brian one last wave goodbye as he drives away.
    Thankfully the airport is pretty dead, makes my trip through security less of a hassle. I make way down the long corridor of airline gates and shops to gate A-13. Lucky thirteen, let’s hope thirteen brings me some luck.
    I arrive at the gate just in the nick of time. The flight has begun boarding. The ticket agent scans my ticket then politely tells me to have a pleasant flight. Once onboard the plane I find my window just behind the wing. While the rest of the passengers board the plane, I sit quietly staring out the window, mind already playing out the possible scenarios of what I’ll say once I see Lucky’s face again. But I know, no matter how many different scenarios I come up with, they won’t matter once I see her because all I will want to do is pull her into my arms and beg her to come home.

 
    Lying in bed I stare up at the ceiling watching the lights from the passing cars on the highway dancing across the darkness. The hard, unforgiving hotel mattress making sleep next to impossible, but considering how loud my mind is talking, sleep was never going to be a possibility.
    Turning onto my side, my eyes meet the alarm clock sitting on the bedside table. One-forty-one in the morning. I stare at the bright red numbers waiting for the next minute to tick by. I can already hear the ghosts coming for me. The soft whispers growing louder and louder. The words, “I will always love you, Lucky,” cutting into me like a double-edged sword.
    The moment the one flicks over to a two, I hear a gentle knock on my door. My heart leaps into my throat. I nervously pull the sheets tighter around me.
    Shit! Did Jackson manage to find me?
    It can’t possibly be Jackson. I’m at least a day ahead of him, and I switched phones before checking into the hotel. So there was no way he could have found me that way. Maybe someone just has the wrong room and they’ll go away in a minute. But there’s another knock and, this time, it’s followed up by a familiar voice.
    “Lucky, open up, it’s Ryder.”
    At first, I think it’s just my