Chapter 9
Brandon
Captain Reeves looked at me like I'd lost my mind.
"You want to transfer out of undercover work." He set down his coffee mug. "Spencer, you're one of our best. This is about the girl, isn't it?"
"This is about me." I stayed standing even though he'd gestured to the chair. "I don't want to lie for a living anymore."
"You weren't lying. You were doing your job."
"The result is the same. People get hurt either way."
He leaned back in his chair. "What are you planning to do instead? Desk work? You'd go insane in a week."
"School Resource Officer. There's an opening at Lincoln High."
The silence stretched between us. Outside his office, phones rang and people moved through the bullpen with their cases and their lives.
"You're serious," he said finally.
"Yes."
"That's a twenty percent pay cut. You'd be dealing with teenagers all day."
He made the word teenagers sound like lepers.
"I know."
"Why?"
I thought about Samantha's face when she talked about her clients. The way she lit up when someone made progress. How she'd told me about Jake and the waste of his death.
"Because someone I care about taught me that prevention matters more than punishment. Because I want to help kids before they end up like the dealers we just arrested. Before they end up dead or in prison or destroying everyone who loves them."
Reeves studied me for a long moment. "That woman who has you tied up in knots must be pretty special."
"She is. But even if she never speaks to me again, this is still the right move."
He picked up his pen and tapped it against his desk. "I'll approve the transfer. But you're finishing out your current caseload first. Two weeks minimum."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. You might hate working with teenagers."
***
TWO WEEKS SINCE THE parking garage. Fourteen days of living next door to her and not being able to see her, touch her, explain.
Enough was enough.
I wasn't going to bombard her. Wasn't going to show up at her work or leave notes under her door. But I needed to try. One real attempt with total honesty. If she said no after that, I'd accept it.
But I had to fight for her first.
I sat at my kitchen table with a notebook and wrote down what I wanted to say. Not a script. Just bullet points so I wouldn't lose my nerve.
Tell her about Danny. The real story, not the edited version.
Explain why I kept secrets. Not as an excuse, just the truth.
Admit I was wrong. That I chose protection over trust.
Tell her about the transfer. About choosing a different path.
Ask for a chance. Not forgiveness. Just a chance to prove I can be honest.
I read through it three times, then looked at myself in the bathroom mirror.
"You're going to tell her everything. No edits. No protection. Just truth."
My reflection stared back, unconvinced.
I put on jeans and a clean shirt. Ran my hand through my hair. Checked the clock. Six thirty. She'd be home from work by now.
I stood at her door for five minutes, gathering courage. My hand went up to knock, came back down. Went up again.
Finally, I knocked.
Footsteps inside. A pause. Then the door opened.
She looked tired. Thinner than two weeks ago. Her hair was in a messy bun and she wore yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt.
She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
"What do you want?" Her voice was flat.
"Five minutes. Just listen for five minutes, and if you want me to leave after that, I will."
She started to close the door.
"Please, Samantha. I have something to tell you. And I'm not going to lie or hide anything. Not anymore."
Her hand paused on the door. "Why should I believe that?"
"Because I quit undercover work. Because I'm in therapy. Because I've spent two weeks realizing that protecting people by lying to them is just another way of failing them."
She stared at me for a long moment. Then stepped back, arms crossed.
"Five minutes. Then you leave."
I walked into her apartment for the first time since the night everything fell apart.
"Thank you," I said. "For giving me this chance."
"Talk. Then leave."
I took a breath and told her everything. "I lied to you. Every day. And I can't take that back." I stayed near the door, giving her space. "But I need you to understand why, even if it doesn't change anything."
She didn't respond. Just stood there with her arms crossed, waiting.
"My partner's name was Danny Reeves. We grew up three houses apart, went through the academy together, got assigned to the same unit. He was my best friend. More than that. He was family."
"You told me he died."
"I didn't tell you the details." I forced myself to keep going. "Two years ago, we were working a case. Drug ring, mid level distributors. I got intel that the meet location was compromised. That the dealers knew we were coming."
Her expression shifted slightly. Still guarded, but listening.
"I didn't tell Danny. Thought I was protecting him. If he didn't know, he couldn't accidentally give it away. Couldn't act different and tip them off." I swallowed hard. "He walked into that warehouse blind. They were waiting for him. Forced enough fentanyl down his throat to kill him twice over."
"Brandon..."
"I kept information from him that would have saved his life. Because I thought I knew better. Thought I was protecting him." I met her eyes. "I've spent two years keeping people at a distance because of it. Not letting anyone close enough to hurt again."
"Then you met me."
"Then I met you."
She moved to the couch, sat down. I stayed standing.
"Every time I touched you, every time I told you I loved you, that was real. The only lies were about the job. Everything else was me."
"How do I trust that?" Her voice was quieter now. "How do I know the difference between what was real and what was the cover story?"
"You don't. Not yet. I have to earn it back." I pulled out my phone and showed her Dr. Morgan's contact information. "I just started therapy and I know it’s not going to be an instant fix, but we’re working through why I compartmentalize, why I can't let people in."
She looked at the screen, then back at me.
"I also requested a transfer out of undercover work."
Her eyes widened. "To where?”
"I’m going to be a School Resource Officer at Lincoln High."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because I don't want to be someone who lies to people I care about." I took a step closer. "Because maybe I can help some kid before they end up like your brother."
She stood up fast. "You did that for me?"
"For us. And for me.”
"What if I can't forgive you?" The question came out barely above a whisper. "What if this is too broken to fix?"
"Then I still made the right choice."
She walked to the window, staring out at the city lights. I waited, letting her process.
"What does this look like?" she said finally. "If I say yes?"
"I tell you everything. Even the hard stuff. Even when I'm scared. I introduce you to my family, my friends, my therapist if you want. I prove every single day that I'm the man who deserves you."
She turned to face me. "If I give you another chance and you lie again, we're done. No third chances. No excuses."
"I won't. And you can verify everything. I'll be so honest it'll probably annoy you."
The corner of her mouth twitched. Almost a smile.
"Why?" she asked. "Why go through all this for me?"
"Because you're everything I’d ever wanted. Everything else is just a job."
She crossed the room slowly, stopping a few feet away. Close enough to touch if she wanted to. Far enough to run if she needed to.
"I visited Kyle yesterday. At the jail."
The change in subject threw me. "How is he?"
"He's in the rehab program there, and he seems committed." She looked at me. "He told me you spoke up for him. How you made sure he got help instead of just getting arrested."
"He deserved a chance."
"He said you sat with him for two hours after everything went down. Talked to him about options, about programs. Made calls to get him into the rehab track instead of general population."
I'd forgotten she didn't know about that part. "It was the right thing to do."
"You could have just arrested him and walked away."
"I could have. But that wouldn't have helped anyone."
She took another step closer. We were inches apart now. She reached up and touched my face. Just her fingertips against my jaw, but it felt like coming back to life. "If we do this, it's going to be hard. I'm going to have bad days where I don't trust you. Where I question everything."
"I know. And I'll understand."
“No more secrets."
"None.”
She leaned up and kissed me. Tentative at first, testing. I held still, letting her control it. Letting her decide what happened next.
When she pulled back, her eyes were wet.
"I missed you," she said again.
"I missed you too. So damn much."
This time when she kissed me, it was harder. Desperate. Her hands went to my shirt, fisting in the fabric.
I cupped her face, deepening the kiss. It was like coming home.
"Bedroom?" she said against my mouth.
"Are you sure?"
"Hell yes."
I followed her down the hallway, past Pepper who watched us with her usual judgment. Samantha's bedroom looked the same as I remembered. Unmade bed, books stacked on the nightstand, clothes on the chair.
She turned to face me, suddenly nervous.
"We can stop," I said. "We don't have to do this tonight."
"I don't want to stop." She pulled her sweatshirt over her head, standing in front of me in just her sports bra and yoga pants. "I want this. I want you."
I closed the distance between us, kissing her slowly. Taking my time. This wasn't about urgency or need. This was about reconnecting. About rebuilding what we'd lost.
I walked her backwards to the bed. She sat down and I knelt in front of her, pulling off her socks, then her yoga pants. She lifted her hips to help.
"Is this okay?" I asked.
"Yes."
I kissed her knee, then higher. Her inner thigh. She made a sound in the back of her throat that I'd been hearing in my dreams for two weeks.
"Tell me what you need," I said.
"You. Just you."
I stood and pulled off my shirt, then my jeans. She watched me, her breathing shallow.
When I climbed onto the bed, she pulled me down for another kiss. Slower this time. More intentional. Her hands traced the scars on my ribs, the ones she'd asked about before.
"Later," I said. "I'll tell you about all of them later. No more secrets."
"Later," she agreed.
I unhooked her bra and tossed it aside. Took my time relearning her body. What made her gasp, what made her arch into my touch.
"Brandon." My name on her lips sounded like forgiveness.
"I'm here."
"Don't leave me again."
"Never."
I moved down her body, kissing every inch of skin. When I pulled off her underwear, she was already wet.
"You're so beautiful," I said.
"Less talking."
I smiled against her thigh. "Bossy."
"You love it."
"I do. I love you."
The words hung between us. I hadn't meant to say them yet, but they were true. Had been true since the first week we met.
"I love you too," she said. "Even when I hated you, I still loved you."
I kissed her center, taking my time. She buried her hands in my hair, holding me against her. When she came, it was with my name and a sound I'd never get tired of hearing.
I kissed my way back up her body. She reached for the nightstand, fumbling for a condom.
"Let me," I said.
I rolled it on and positioned myself between her legs. Waited for her to look at me.
"Ready?" I asked.
"Yes."
I pushed inside slowly. She was tight and hot and perfect around me. We both made sounds.
"Okay?" I asked.
"Move. Please move."
I did, setting a slow rhythm. Not rushing. Just reconnecting with every thrust.
She wrapped her legs around my hips, pulling me deeper. "Harder."
"You sure?"
"I'm not going to break."
I gave her what she wanted. Deeper, faster. The headboard hit the wall but neither of us cared. She came with her eyes on mine, clenching around me. I followed seconds later, burying my face in her neck. We stayed like that for a long time. Both of us breathing hard, hearts racing.
Finally I pulled out and dealt with the condom. When I came back, she was under the covers, watching me.
"You're really leaving detective work?"
"Already done. I start at Lincoln in two weeks."
"And you're okay with that?"
"Best decision I've ever made."
She believed me. I could see it in her eyes.
"Stay tonight?" she asked. "Stay tomorrow too?"
"Every day if you'll let me."
She pressed a kiss to my chest, right over my heart. "Then stay."
I held her while she drifted off to sleep, listening to her breathing even out. This woman had given me a second chance I didn't deserve. I wasn't going to waste it.