Blood And Promises Novel by Sabrina Hart Chapter 13

Blood And Promises Novel by Sabrina Hart Chapter 13

“I must find her.” Richard closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, there was nothing left but an unquestionable resolve. “There are some things I have to ask her face to face.”

After saying this, he no longer looked at Rebecca’s face, which had instantly turned ashen with despair. He turned and strode toward the security checkpoint, his back showing not a trace of reluctance.

The plane soared into the clouds. Richard leaned back in his seat, eyes closed, his brows tightly furrowed. The cabin was dimly lit, with only the steady roar of the engines. Yet his mind was filled with chaos. It was all about her.

She wore a bright red dress, like a blazing fire, laughing recklessly in the military base housing. She curled up in his arms, her hair still damp, quietly complaining about how bad the cafeteria food was. She knelt on shards of glass, her knees oozing blood, yet she lifted her chin and glared at him stubbornly, refusing to yield. She stood in the dim corridor of the hotel, looked at him, and said, “You, right here, whip yourself three times.” She lay in the hospital bed, her arm wrapped in bandages, looking at him as the light in her eyes gradually faded.

The final image froze under the yellowish lights of the crematorium, where she looked at him and calmly asked, “Richard, if I say I didn’t, do you believe me?”

A dull pain throbbed in his chest, growing clearer and harder to ignore with each wave. For these five days, not a moment passed without him thinking of her. This uncontrollable longing filled him with unprecedented panic and… a sense of loss so suffocating it was almost unbearable.

Suddenly, he dared not think further. What if… what if she truly never came back, if that divorce statement was not just a reckless outburst…

The air in Junction City was dry and cool. Richard used every connection he had in Junction City, practically turning the city upside down. Train stations, bus terminals, every major hotel and guesthouse, those distant relatives of the Serrano family who rarely had contact… even any place she might possibly go.

Nothing. There was absolutely no trace of Samantha. It was as if she had deliberately erased all evidence of her existence, vanishing completely into the crowd.

This sense of losing control, of having nowhere to search, made the panic in Richard’s heart grow stronger by the day. For the first time, he realized with such clarity that the girl who had once blazed into his life like wildfire, whom he thought would always revolve around him, truly wanted to leave—and had the ability to disappear without a trace.

On the afternoon of the third day, Richard, having found nothing, was physically and mentally exhausted. He drove aimlessly through the streets of Junction City, the scenery outside the window flashing by, but none of it registered in his eyes.

As if guided by fate, he turned into a relatively quiet alley. A corner of his memory was stirred, and he recalled that long ago, Samantha had once leaned in his arms, flipping through a magazine, pointing at a photo of a private restaurant in Junction City, her eyes sparkling as she said, “Richard, look at this place. I heard the owner’s ancestors were royal chefs, and their pork is amazing! When we go to Junction City, we must try it!”

At the time, he had only replied with a casual “Mm,” not taking it to heart. Now, that location surfaced in his mind with startling clarity.

He stopped the car at the entrance of the alley. The private restaurant had a modest facade, exuding an antique charm. Richard got out and pushed open the door, not really expecting to find anything. It was only some faint hope, one he barely dared admit to himself, that drove him.

Then, his steps came to an abrupt halt.

The evening sun was just right, casting a warm golden edge over the old-fashioned alley. Across from the restaurant, under an old locust tree, stood two people. The woman wore a light yellow dress, its hem swaying gently in the breeze, making her skin look luminous. Her long hair was loosely pinned up, with a few softly curled strands falling by her cheeks. She stood sideways to him, tilting her face up to look at the man beside her, a gentle and radiant smile curving her lips.

It was Samantha.

In the instant he saw her face clearly, Richard felt his blood rush to his head with a roar. He stared fixedly at that smile. How long had it been… since he last saw her smile like that? It was not a cold smile, not mocking, not despairing, but truly relaxed, warm and genuine.

Standing beside her was a man in a crisp air force uniform. The man stood tall and straight, the star insignia on his epaulet reflecting the sunlight, marking his rank as Brigadier General. He leaned in slightly, reached out, and with utmost naturalness—even a hint of fondness—gently tucked the wind-blown strand of hair behind Samantha’s ear.

Samantha did not shy away; instead, she followed his movement, the smile on her upturned face deepening.

The sunset outlined their profiles, making them look as beautiful as a painting. Yet to Richard, it was unbearably dazzling, stinging his eyes and making his chest ache as if struck by a heavy blow, so much that he could hardly breathe.

All his reason and restraint were obliterated in that instant. Almost charging forward, he crossed the not-so-wide stone path in a few strides, exuding a terrifying aura as he grabbed Samantha’s wrist!

“Samantha!”