Chapter 26
26
COURT
As I sank into the chair at my desk, the sounds of phones ringing and keyboards clacking filled the room. Sounds I hadn’t heard in some time. After being undercover for two months, being back at the station felt almost foreign.
When I pulled the burner phone from my jacket pocket, I realized the battery had died. Since I was no longer undercover, I hadn’t been using it.
“Turning that in?” Dalton’s voice cut through the noise. He leaned against the corner of my desk, arms crossed, smirking.
I shook my head as I dropped the phone onto a pile of paperwork. “Good riddance.”
He grabbed a nearby chair and sat across from me. “Hell of a job, man. We couldn’t have cracked this without you. Sarge seems impressed.”
“Glad someone is,” I muttered, flipping through the final report. The details of the bust and arrests were all there, but nothing about what really mattered. Nothing about Ryan.
Dalton’s tone softened. “You mean Ryan?”
I looked up, meeting his eyes. I hadn’t gone into detail with Dalton about me and Ryan breaking up, but I’d told him that I’d come clean to Ryan and it hadn’t gone over well. “Yeah. I don’t know how to fix it. Maybe I can’t.”
“You did what you had to,” he said.
“But I lied to him the whole time.”
He didn’t argue. We both knew the truth. “Give him time. And cut yourself some slack. You were doing an important job.”
I let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, and I fell for him. How’s that for professionalism? Getting close was part of the job, but I—” My voice caught for a second. “I didn’t plan on actually falling for the guy.” The handsome, charismatic guy who loves his family as much as I do mine.
“Undercover work messes with your head, you know that. You’re human. Don’t beat yourself up for feeling something real.”
“Feeling something real?” I echoed, the bitterness in my tone surprising even me. “I lied to him every day, Dalton. That’s what’s real. And now he hates me for it. I don’t blame him.”
“He doesn’t hate you. He’s hurt, sure, but that’s not the same thing. He’ll see the bigger picture eventually.”
I shook my head. “What bigger picture? That I used him to get to his sister’s boyfriend? That I kept him in the dark until it all blew up in his face?” I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. “I wouldn’t forgive me either.”
“You didn’t use him, Court. Not like that. You cared about him—hell, you still do. And that’s why it hurts so much.”
“Too bad caring doesn’t fix anything.” He nodded but didn’t press. After a moment, he changed the subject. “You ready for IAD?”
I let out a breath at the mention of Internal Affairs. “Not really.”
“You acted fast and kept control. It wasn’t clean, but it worked.”
“Doesn’t mean they’ll see it that way.”
Dalton crossed his arms. “Worst case, suspension. Maybe a demotion. The bust went mostly as planned. Just be straight with them.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Being suspended or getting demoted. Working narcotics is what I was made to do.”
“Blame it on your concussion.” He grinned.
I forced a smile at his attempt to lighten the mood. My mind was still tangled in the mess I’d made, both with the bust and with Ryan.
Dalton continued. “Look, you can’t worry about IA until they actually call you in. Obsessing about it now won’t change anything.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Hey, if they try throwing the book at you, we’ll deal with it. Together.” He tapped the desk. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Grab a beer at Flanagan’s?”
I hesitated, glancing at the stack of paperwork in front of me. The idea of sitting in my apartment, replaying every mistake, wasn’t appealing. “Yeah, okay.”
After turning in the burner phone and the files on my desk, we walked the few blocks to the Irish pub. I grabbed a high-top while Dalton ordered us a couple of pints. He brought them over, handed me mine, and then took the seat across from me.
He raised his glass. “To surviving another bust.”
I clinked mine against his. “Barely.”
He leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. “You know, I’m an excellent distraction.”
I rolled my eyes as I took a sip. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
I stared into my glass. “I need to get over Ryan first. If I can.”
Dalton nodded. “You will. Or maybe you’ll break my heart and figure out how to fix it with him.”
I shot him a look. “You know, I thought we were just having fun. I didn’t?—”
“I know,” he interrupted. “I didn’t expect it either. But somewhere along the line, I started caring more. And yeah, maybe I hoped you’d feel the same.”
I took a long drink from my beer. I’d always valued our friendship, and the last thing I wanted was to hurt him. But that was the thing—I couldn’t control who I had feelings for.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I said low. “You’re one of the few people I trust in this job. You mean a lot to me.”
He nodded, though the grin he gave me was softer. “I get it. And I’ll take that. But I’m still hoping you figure out how to let go of him. The guy sounds like a fool if he doesn’t see what he’s got with you.”
My chest tightened at the thought of Ryan. “I don’t know if I can let go. I’m in?—”
Dalton blinked. “You’re in love with him?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I think so.”
“Does he know?”
I shook my head. “No. I didn’t get the chance to fully explore what I felt for him while being undercover. Now … I miss him and know that I do.”
“Then you should tell him.”
“He doesn’t want to hear from me.”
As Dalton stood to get us another round, it hit me.
The burner phone.
I’d never saved Ryan’s number from the cell phone I’d been using undercover and now it was in evidence, locked away.
“Shit,” I muttered.
Dalton turned around. “What?”
“The burner,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “It had Ryan’s number, and I never saved it.”
Dalton didn’t miss a beat. “You could look it up, you know. You’re a cop, Court.”
“I can’t just run his name through the system to get his number.”
“Sure you can. Ryan was part of the case. It’s not like you’re trying to track him down for anything illegal.” He gave me a side hug and leaned in. “Unless you want to sit here and keep stewing, go get his number and call him.”
I stared at the almost empty pint glass in front of me, thinking about getting Ryan’s number back at the station. The thought of reaching out again and being rejected made my stomach turn, but I wanted to. If I could find a way to prove to Ryan that my feelings were real, then maybe he would forgive me and we could continue where we left off. Well, not the part where I was shot, but back to when we were almost inseparable.
“I—” I glanced up as I spoke, but the words died in my throat when I saw Ryan standing in the pub’s doorway.