Finch exhales, letting me go. It takes me a second, but I realize what he was doing. He saw Mary walk by first, but why would he think I wouldn’t want to see her? Yes, I’m hurting, but after talking to the boys, I’m in a good headspace.
This is what spurs me to say, “I’m going to say hello.”
“No, Hunt, don’t!” he all but screams, latching onto my arm. It’s too late as I push through the crowd to find her.
It’s a warm night and the sidewalk is bustling, but my six-foot-four frame allows me the height gain I need. I use her trademark red waves as my beacon and push my way through the crowd. Dixon and Finch are hollering behind me to stop, but now that she’s within grasp, the devil is at my heels and I sprint forward, desperate to see her.
It feels like years since I last saw her. My hear
