Chapter 4
Liv
A familiar flash of dark brown hair grabs my attention. And the slick looking button-up long-sleeve white shirt and black slacks tell me what I already know.
He’s back.
This is the third time in two weeks that the hot detective has been back in my neighborhood.
The first time, just four days after the shooting, had me on edge that something bad was going to happen again.
Once I realized that he and Mason, that other detective with the bright smile and red hair, were just doing some investigating in the empty office building across the street with some regular uniformed officers in tow, I stopped worrying.
That didn’t slow my heart rate though.
Part of me was just caught in the fact that he was back and the thrill of seeing him again. Not just him, not just his belt-clipped badge, but that he was still wearing his sling. It made me a little too proud that he kept it on. I’m partially hoping that he accepted it because of what I said.
The second time, last Tuesday, I didn’t worry at all when I saw him.
He and Mason were in front of that office building again, speaking with some cops in a squad car and gesturing at something down the street.
No sling this time. But it’d been long enough, I’m sure it’s fine enough by now for him to go without it.
And now they’re back again, and I’m fighting myself to go out there to talk to him, pretending to just be curious of how his arm is healing but really just wanting him to stare at me in that way he did that night. The way that left me feeling naked while fully clothed, albeit underdressed.
I’m looking from the window in my bedroom, feeling more than mildly like a creeper, so I can get a good view of where they’re parked just barely past the office building in the direction I’d take if walking to work.
Which I’m sure is just a coincidence.
Mason splits off from Alex, heading down the street with a wad of papers and two cops following him.
But Alex stays and I take my chance. I grab my keys and wallet, say a quick “be right back” to Pip, and run out the door, planning to make it look like I was just heading to the corner store to grab something to eat but bumped into him.
I take the stairs two at a time racing down them hoping he’ll still be alone beside that same black sedan.
As soon as my feet hit the pavement in front of my building, his eyes meet mine. I don’t know how he knew it was me stepping out of the building, or if he was just reacting to being on the sidewalk near him, but it makes my heart flutter anyway.
“Ms. Carter,” he gives me a nod.
Crap, we’re being formal? I’ve been calling him and Mason by their first names in my head since that night.
“Oh, Liv is fine. How, uh, how’s your arm healing?” I let a light smile take over my face.
“Very well, actually. I got the stitches out a few days ago in urgent care. It feels much better without them.” He shifts, leaning backwards against the car, and crosses his arms, making his muscular upper arms stretch against the fabric of his sleeves.
It should be illegal to look this good in a damn button-up shirt.
The thought hits me so fast and so vividly that I nearly trip over my own feet.
I recover, hopefully before he could think over my fumble.
“You went to urgent care?” I ask, stepping a little closer but keeping a safe, socially acceptable distance.
“Could’ve come by here…” I jab my thumb over my shoulder at my apartment building.
“I’ve got the gear for it. O-or the station. We would’ve taken care of it for you.”
“I considered it,” he says, voice so even that it makes me think that he’s just saying that to placate me. “Didn’t think your coworkers would appreciate me taking up anyone’s time.”
Are you kidding? You would have been the talk of the station for a week straight, especially for Alice.
“They wouldn’t,” I admit. “But I would’ve.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
His eyes sharpen just slightly, but it’s enough that I notice. “Good to know.”
There’s something in the way he says it, not teasing but not quite serious either, or the way his eyes flick over me so quickly that I nearly miss it.
File that away for later.
I shift my weight, glancing briefly at his arm again and the way the fabric pulls over his bicep.
Focus, Liv. Focus.
“You still shouldn’t be back out here so soon,” I say, slipping into a safer and more professional topic. “Even being as shallow as it was, that wound could-”
“I heal fast.” No elaboration.
Of course you do.
“Are you always this stubborn with medical advice?” I ask, perking a brow at him.
“Only when it’s unnecessary.”
I huff a quiet laugh and roll my eyes. “That’s what they all say.”
His mouth twitches again, barely there but I’m starting to recognize it. A near smile.
I think that’s worse than the actual one.
A charged silence settles between us for a moment. My gaze drifts, and that’s when I notice it.
At first, it’s nothing. Just the clean line of his shirt, the way it sits against him. But then… there. A faint outline beneath the fabric. Not bulky enough to be obvious, but not sloppy enough to be accidental. It’s structured and layered.
“Are you wearing-” I start but then stop myself.
“Work clothes,” he says simply, eyes assessing me for my reaction.
“Of course,” I murmur. I knew it was there; the knowledge just hadn’t caught up with me.
But now that I’ve seen it, I can’t unsee it.
Not just the vest but the way he carries himself.
The constant scanning of the street. The subtle shift of his stance that keeps his back near the car and keeps his line of sight clear.
He’s not just standing here, he’s watching.
“Busy day?” I ask lightly, even though I already know the answer.
“Something like that.” Vague, intentionally so.
My curiosity spikes.
Before I can push further, a shout cuts through the air from half a block away. “Hey! Watch ou-”
A crash follows, the sharp and jarring sound of metal screeching against concrete draws the attention of both of us. We turn instantly.
A guy lays sprawled on the sidewalk near the corner; his bike tipped over beside him and his groceries scattered across the pavement. One of his bags has split open causing cans to roll into the street.
“Shit,” I mutter, already moving.
Alex is right behind me.
We reach the guy at the same time. He’s groaning, clutching the side of his head where he must’ve hit the ground.
“I’ve got you,” I say, dropping to a crouch beside him. “Don’t try to get up yet.”
“I’m fine,” he insists through clenched teeth, eyes still closed as he tries to push through the pain I’m sure is reverberating around in his head.
“Everyone says that,” I reply automatically, echoing what I’d just said to Alex minutes ago. “Let me be the judge of that.”
I glance over, seeing Alex collecting the cans from the street and heading to the bike to repack the bags.
I gently pull the guy’s hand from his head, noting that it’s scraped but not bleeding. Good, one less thing to worry about.
I grab my phone, flicking my finger over the screen and turning on the flashlight. It’s not my normal penlight but it works. I use it to check his eyes, noting that his pupils respond as they should to the light.
It’s still so soon after the hit though, so he isn’t clear yet. But I’ll keep it in mind.
“What’s four plus ten?” I ask, turning the flashlight back off and sticking my phone back in my pocket.
“What?” His brow perks with confusion.
“What’s four plus ten?” I repeat the question.
“Fourteen,” he says though it sounds like a question in response.
“And what’s the third planet from the sun?”
“Earth?” he huffs, starting to sound irritated.
“Do you live with anyone? Girlfriend? Family? Roommate?”
“I have a roommate.”
“Good,” I say, looking up to see Alex has the guy’s bike propped up with the repacked bags tied to the handlebars. I turn my eyes back to the guy. “Go home, tell your roommate what happened-”
“Why?” he interrupts me. “So he can laugh at me?”
“No,” my eyes narrow slightly at his snark. “So he’ll look out for any changes in you that would indicate a concussion. You’re clear of one now but it just happened. Concussion symptoms don’t always start immediately.”
“Oh,” he digresses, the snark long gone. “Uh, okay. I will. What are you, a doctor or something?”
“Paramedic,” I say simply. “Off duty.”
I help him to his feet, making sure he’s steady, and he takes his bike from Alex with a murmured “thanks” before heading off.
“And quit biking like you’ve got a death wish,” Alex calls out after the guy.
“You do that often?” Alex asks casually as we watch the guy ride off, slipping around Mason at the other end of the street. The red head is now heading our way.
“Stumble upon injured civilians and tend to them on the sidewalk?” I glance up at Alex. “Comes with the territory.”
He watches me for a moment, something unreadable in his expression. “You didn’t hesitate.”
I shrug lightly. “It’s what I do. Something tells me you’re the same way with danger.”
His brows tip up momentarily. “You’ve got a point there.”
“I guess we’re both just bad at minding our own business.”
His gaze lingers on me like he knows that’s not the whole truth. “Other people’s business is my business.”
He glances down the street again, and my eyes follow. Mason is closer, waving brightly now.
It strikes me just how different these two are: Mason shows exactly what he’s feeling and how intensely at every moment while I need to almost decipher Alex’s emotions with a magnifying glass.
I glance back down the street, past Mason and down towards that old warehouse. It’s shadows seem darker today, like they’re just a little too deep, even in the daylight.
“This neighborhood…” I start, then huff out a quiet breath.
“Sorry it’s not exactly the safest part of town.
I got a great deal on the rent, but I’m pretty sure my neighbors are all either drug dealers or ghosts.
” I gesture vaguely down the block. “That warehouse’s been empty since I moved in a few years ago. ”
His expression tightens and for once it’s not at all subtle. He clearly dislikes that building far more than I do. “Or worse.”
My head snaps to the side, gaze zeroing in on him. “What?”
“Never mind,” he says quickly. “Just… everyone deserves to feel safe in their own home.”
His words, and the significance behind them, hits hard, making my head hurt like a bad memory. His words hide something underneath them, something I’m sure is work related.
I study him for a second then, “you say that like you’re planning to fix it.”
There’s a pause long enough to see Mason stop at that sedan parked by my apartment building’s entrance. I’m starting to wonder if where that car gets parked on this block isn’t just about where there’s an open parking space.
“Maybe I am. Or at least trying.”
My pulse stutters. “That sounds… ominous.”
“It’s not,” he replies, but there’s a weight to it that says otherwise.
Silence stretches between us again as we stare at each other. The breeze picks up, blowing my ponytail over my shoulder. It feels so empty here, like the street has faded away, leaving just us.
“Is this the part where I’m supposed to be worried for your safety?” I ask.
His gaze drops to my mouth for half a second then lifts again but not before I barely suppress a whole-body shiver.
“Yes,” he says simply.
My breath catches.
“But you’re not,” he adds.
“No,” I admit. And that’s the problem, isn’t it?
I should be. A man like him, armed and intense and clearly involved in something bigger than he’s saying, should set off every alarm bell in my head.
Instead… I’m curious and drawn in. And there’s something wrong with that.
Or maybe there’s something wrong with me.
I’ve seen what violence does. I’ve held pressure on wounds that shouldn’t have existed in the first place. I’ve attended to people who got caught in the crossfire of a violent situation that they weren’t even involved in to begin with.
I should want distance from him. I should want the safety and predictability of not living in the most dangerous part of town… and getting involved with the detective leading the way to trying to clean it up.
But instead, I live here, walk these streets, step into chaos without hesitation, and keep finding myself next to the very detective putting himself into this mess.
I’m standing in front of a man who practically radiates danger…
and I’m too busy thinking about the way his shirt stretches across the muscular bands of his arms to digest the danger of my neighborhood that I apparently don’t completely understand.
Fantastic.
“Do you always look at people like that?” I ask suddenly, immediately wanting to shove my foot in my mouth.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re trying to figure out how they fit into something you haven’t explained yet.”
He doesn’t answer right away, staying silent long enough for me to convince myself that I definitely shouldn’t have said that.
But what he says next not only proves me wrong, but it rewrites the way the back of my mind is trying to convince me to move.
“Only when it matters.”
“And I matter?” I press, half teasing.
His gaze doesn’t waver. “Yes.”
I have to swallow hard to keep my voice from cracking because the word has settled somewhere low in my stomach, making me feel like if I open my mouth again, something I’ll be embarrassed about will spew out.
Before I can respond, a voice carries from down the block. “Thornton!”
Mason, just in time to keep me from sticking my foot in my mouth again. He’s heading back toward us, a bunch of papers tucked under his arm that I’m guessing is what he went to the car for, and his expression is sharper now.
Whatever they were doing, it’s not done yet.
Alex straightens slightly; the shift is subtle but immediate. Back to work mode. I recognize it because I do the same thing.
“I should get back,” he sighs.
“Right,” I nod, even though part of me wants to keep him standing here just a little longer.
“Liv.”
The way he says my name… damn.
“Yeah?”
“Be careful.” There’s nothing casual about it. No teasing, no edge of humor. Just intent.
“I will,” I say. It’s not entirely true but I think we both know that.
His eyes linger for one last second before he turns and walks toward Mason, already slipping back into whatever role he was playing before I stuck myself into the middle of it.
My pulse doesn’t settle even as I turn toward the corner store, still committed to the excuse I’d made for myself. But as I walk, one thought keeps circling back louder than the rest.
He said I mattered.
And what does he want me to stay safe from?