Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
BUTCH
I don’t think Becca’s happy with me.
Scratch that.
I know damn well Becca’s not happy with me. The second she got back from Simon’s house, she went right back to work, setting her computer back on the bed, assaulting the keyboard with her fingers, while staring at the screen with angry eyes.
Normally, I’d tell someone who was pissed at me to kiss my ass. I don’t give a damn if they’re happy with me or not. But I do care whether or not Becca’s happy, and that leaves me in unfamiliar territory.
I cross both arms over my chest, bracing for the verbal—and possibly physical—assault I’m sure is coming. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Nothing. Not a word. Not a flinch. She doesn’t even bat an eye.
I can’t tell if she’s ignoring me, or if she genuinely hasn’t heard me. Becca gets a wicked case of tunnel vision when she’s focused, and it’s like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Super useful for what we’re trying to accomplish, but annoying as hell when I want her attention.
“B.” I step into her line of vision, resting one hand on her laptop.
Becca’s eyes slowly come my way. Her voice is low and threatening when she says, “If you take this computer from me again, I’m going to beat you to death with it.”
“That would take a very long time.” I look around the room, hoping to use this as a teaching opportunity.
She loves that shit. Maybe it will soften her current feelings toward me.
“If you’re going to beat me to death with something, you should probably grab an item that’s way heavier.
Something that has a little bit of length to it, so it can pick up momentum as you swing. ”
Becca’s gaze narrows. “Why are you giving me pointers on how to kill you?”
“Because you don’t really want to kill me, you’re just mad at me.” I shrug. “And lots of people get mad at me. None of them have killed me yet.”
I feel like yet might be the operative word in that sentence.
On the plus side, she doesn’t currently have access to a claw hammer, so I feel relatively safe.
“Fine. You want to talk? Let’s talk.” Becca shoves the computer off her lap and onto the bed.
She stands up, her five-foot frame practically vibrating with anger as she faces me down.
“I can’t believe you brought me here knowing they’ve already dealt with bad people showing up on their doorsteps.
” Her hands clench into fists. “I won’t ask them to risk their families for me when I have every intention of kicking a hornet’s nest. We need to find somewhere else to go. ”
“I don’t have anywhere else I can take you, B.” I wish I did. We would already be there. “I don’t want to be here any more than they want me here, but we don’t have any other options in Memphis.”
She glares at me in silence, scowling deep. “Maybe you just haven’t looked hard enough.” Becca lifts her chin, refusing to back down. “I don’t care where it is or what it looks like. We need to find a new place to stay.”
I’ve missed someone having my back, but I have not missed the compromise that can come with it. “And how exactly do you propose we accomplish that?”
Becca’s lips purse. “I don’t know.” Her eyes go back to her laptop. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”
I smirk since she’s no longer looking at me and won’t be enraged by my amusement. “How do you feel about shitty motels?”
Becca’s eyes lift to me. “Why does it have to be shitty?”
“Because they’re the only ones that take cash and don’t ask too many questions.” I’ve stayed in my fair share of them over the course of my career, but I don’t know how well Becca would enjoy the experience.
Then again, she’s been a trooper about staying in this place, so what the fuck do I know?
“Would I have internet access?” There’s interest in her tone.
“Probably.” I don’t want to overpromise. “But you would also likely have roaches and way less security.”
I’m shocked when Becca doesn’t seem completely deterred. “Bedbugs?”
“I guess we’d have to check.” I tip my head toward the air mattress we bought. “We can always keep sleeping on this.”
Becca chews her lower lip for a minute. “I want to see one in person before I make any decisions.” She closes her laptop before tucking it under one arm. “And I’m only staying in a place that has free internet.”
“This is…” Becca does a slow circle. “Better than I expected.” Her dark eyes skim over the cheap vinyl tile floor and textured walls. She moves to the bed, lifting one corner of the queen-size mattress to look between it and the box spring. “And it might not even have bed bugs.”
We’re in the least sketchy of the sketchy parts of Memphis. Somewhere with easy access to the highway and a number of access points to increase our getaway options. We probably won’t get shot at during the day, but the place gets way shootier after dark.
“It also has internet.” Becca peeks into the bathroom. “And a flushing toilet.” She turns, giving me a small smile. “So, I guess it will work for now.”
I study Becca as she moves toward me, wondering if maybe there’s another reason she’s eager to leave our current accommodations behind. “Have you talked to Shelly or Felicity yet?”
Becca looks away, pretending to be focused on the aging television mounted to the wall above a chest of drawers. “No.”
I already knew the answer to that. With the exception of her short visit with Myra, we’ve been together since she left the safe house. “Do you think you should?”
Becca shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t know that there’s a point. They’ve got new lives now. Kids and husbands. Friends.” She reaches out to pick at a bit of peeling veneer. “Their lives are totally different from mine, and I don’t see that changing.”
I’ve learned a lot about Becca in the short time we’ve been together. She likes her coffee black and hot as lava. Her focus is unparalleled and breaking it could result in receiving a broken bone. She’s not a morning person, and she can do a shocking amount of damage with a hammer.
She also carries a lot of hurt from the people she’s let close in the past. Not because they meant to cause her pain, but because she has big feelings that are easily scarred.
It’s a trait I might understand a little more than I’ll ever admit.
But part of what she says distracts me from her hurt over the ebbs and flows of adult friendships. “You don’t plan to get married or have kids?”
It’s another place I’ve struggled to find compatibility. I love the shit out of my niece. She’s been the most important person in my life since she was born. But I’m not interested in creating a me version of her.
Marriage, however… I’ve always seen some amount of appeal in legally belonging to someone. Someone legally belonging to me. Sharing a name—whatever it is. Sharing a life. Being a matrimonially bound team.
Becca wrinkles her nose. “I’m not really a kid person.” She purses her lips, working them from side to side thoughtfully. “I’ve never been super interested in getting married either since I’ve never had romantic feelings for anyone.”
Ouch. “No one?”
She huffs out a breath, like my question annoys her. “Besides you.”
Better. “But you wouldn’t marry me?”
What the fuck am I doing? This woman and I hardly know each other. No way should I be bringing up marriage.
Except in the past forty-eight hours she’s assaulted one man and killed another for me. And apparently that’s enough to have me considering a lifetime commitment.
Becca snorts. “Not until I know whether or not I like having sex with you.”
Not all marriages require sex, but I don’t see a reason to point that out. Not when I’d very much like to have sex with her. And not when I very much wouldn’t like her to consider someone she’s not attracted to as a possible companion.
“I’m sure we can arrange for that.” I know she’s not thrilled over these accommodations, but having a place to shower removes one barrier. Because there’s no way I’m going into my first real interaction with Becca sporting musty balls. “But first we need to move our shit.”
Becca takes a deep breath, blowing it back out. “Okay.” She stuffs both hands in the pockets of her jeans. “But maybe when this is all over we could go back to visit. See how everyone’s doing.”
“You can go back and visit. I’m pretty sure they’ll be happy never having to see my face again.”
And I don’t blame them. From their perspective, I was against them. Manipulated and deceived a group of men who only had each other.
On some level, they're right. But ultimately I know I did the right thing. If it had been a different detective in my place, there’s no doubt in my mind one—or all—of them would be in prison right now.
I don’t make a habit of sending undeserving men to prison. That’s probably why I was always a thorn in the chief’s side. Why he moved me to bullshit ops where he thought I couldn’t cause problems.
Obviously he greatly underestimated my abilities.
“I wish they could understand why you did what you did.” Becca looks sad for me, and it digs under my skin. Not in a bad way. It’s just… unusual. I don’t normally let people have the opportunity to affect me like that, and the sensation is jarring.
“It’s okay if they don’t.” I usually thrive on people misunderstanding me or simply disliking me.
Not in this case, though. This time, I’ve simply accepted my fate and made peace with it.
Because the results were worth the sacrifice.
“As long as they get to enjoy their lives and raise their kids, they can hate me until they die.”
Becca’s lower lip juts. “I don’t like that.”
“You don’t have to.” I loop an arm around her shoulders, leading her to the still open door of our new temporary home. “But I would really like it if you don’t smack any more of them with your shoes.”
Becca lets me load her into the passenger seat of the SUV. She buckles in, angling an eyebrow at me. “I’m not comfortable making any promises.”