The Drowning Man by Sara Vinduska

on him this time. This time there was no fear, no flashbacks. The longer he looked at her, the more he felt the urge to get closer to her.
    “You’re staring at me,” she said.
    “Sorry.” He gave her what used to be his charming smile, wondered if it would still work.
    Trent nodded at a bar and grill in the next block. “How about greasy burgers and fries?”
    She finally gave him a smile. “I think you read my mind.”
    Lora expected dinner to be awkward, but after a few drinks, beer for him, coffee for her, they both relaxed and were soon talking about everything and anything. Well, everything except the case and what had brought them together in the first place.
    She wondered if they'd talk about it someday. He probably needed to talk about it. For reasons she couldn't even begin to understand, she wanted to be the person he talked to. At least seeing her didn’t freak him out any more. That was a start.
    She watched him coat two French fries with ketchup before eating them. For some strange reason the sight of him eating French fries turned her on more than she ever would have imagined. Oh for God's sake, she thought, forcing herself to concentrate on her own food.
    But Trent Barlow was much more interesting to look at. He looked healthier. His hair had grown out a bit and he'd bulked up. He used humor, he asked her questions, he smiled at the appropriate times, but his dark eyes still had that wary, haunted look. Occasionally he'd get a faraway look in them and she knew he was thinking of his days in captivity. How could something like that not change a person? Thinking you were going to die at any minute, only to be resurrected over and over again.
    She wanted to be the one to make it go away. She wanted to see his eyes like they'd been in the pictures his brother had given her – happy and without a care in the world.
    Though he appeared to be handling things, she had to wonder. She knew firsthand how fine someone could look on the outside while struggling so hard on the inside to keep it together. Did he have nightmares? Did he wake in the middle of the night gasping for breath alone and scared? Her stomach clenched. If he did, she wanted to be next to him.
    She shook her head and took a long drink of her now cold coffee. Jesus. If he knew what she was thinking … He was giving her a curious look.
    “Want a refill?” the waitress asked, coffee pot in hand.
    “Sure.”
    And just like that, the moment was gone.

Chapter 21
    Trent knew the instant he entered the burning house that someone was dead. He and his crew battled back the flames and found the two bodies in the bedroom at the back of the one story house. One moving, one not.
    None of the guys spoke on the way back from the call. Trent could still see the young woman's eyes as she took her last breath. She'd died in his arms. He'd tried. He'd tried so hard to save her. The man had already been dead, but the woman had been clinging to life when they'd arrived. Newlyweds, a neighbor had said. Probably fell asleep with candles burning.
    He'd forgotten how hard this part of the job was. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't save everyone. But dammit, why was he still alive if he couldn't make a difference? If he couldn't save them?
     
    Now, exhausted physically and mentally, he rolled from one side of his bunk to the other, trying to get comfortable, trying to block out the day's images. He didn't succeed. The memories and images came anyway, some recent, some old.
    Part of him still wondered if he deserved what Caroline had done to him. He'd be lying if he said there weren't times he'd blamed himself for Eddie's death. If only he'd looked for him sooner. If they hadn't gone to the stream that day … He'd told himself hundreds of times that it wasn't his fault. It was an accident. Maybe Eddie got caught in the undertow, maybe he'd gotten a cramp. Hell, maybe he'd just tried to hold his breath a minute too long. They would never know for sure and