Chapter Seven #2
“It’s okay,” but my following sigh said it was pretty far from okay. “I needed to ask you about my handcuffs.”
“I put them in your living room.”
“So you told me, but I couldn’t find them, and as part of my suspension, I have to hand them in. Can you come over and help me look?”
It was a feeble excuse, and both of us knew it.
Anger, guilt, and fear were swirling inside me in an explosive cocktail that left me drained and empty instead of revving me up.
I called him for company, but as soon as I heard his voice, all I could think about was his hands on me.
Cade drew me to him, and I can’t remember a time I’ve ever needed a physical release as much as I do now.
Beyond the distraction he could offer was a need for companionship. I was tired of being alone and lonely, and while it was a cage of my own building, I was struggling to break it apart. While Cade may not be able to break me free, he sure as hell would make my self-imprisonment more bearable.
“Yeah, okay, I can do that…” he trailed off. “I’m out on delivery at the moment. Got a dining table to drop off and an old one to pick up. I’ll be over in a few hours.”
“Okay. I’m not going anywhere.”
There was mostly silence on the line, where all I could hear was the rumbling of the truck he was driving in the background.
“Angel?”
He breathed the word out, and I imagined him saying it against my ear as he lay on top of me. Warmth flushed between my legs, and I leaned my head back against the headrest on the seat, sighing into the darkness.
“Yeah?” I whispered.
“If you want company, all you have to do is ask, you know?”
I sighed again. “I know.” What I didn’t know was how this man I had just met could see straight through me. “I’ll see you soon… not like I’m going anywhere.”
We said our goodbyes, and I hung up, dropping the phone into my purse in the passenger seat.
I’d managed to make a right mess of things all because I couldn’t keep my temper under wraps.
Too much had happened too quickly with the suspicious death of Officer Kim, then the anniversary of my father’s death, then Torres’ odd comments.
I simply hadn’t been able to hold myself together.
I was still a rookie by the standard of the old-school guys around the precinct, and I was pushing too many buttons.
But it was the right thing to do. Why must it be so difficult to balance what was right with what everyone expected?
Keeping the peace when I witnessed an injustice was never my strong suit, and I needed to work on being the bigger person to spare people’s feelings.
But this wasn’t some high-school squabble, this was a man’s life.
And if my suspicions were correct, several lives.
If I wanted to remain on the force, I’d need to keep my head down and play by the rules for a while, a good long while, judging by how deep I’d managed to get myself into shit.
Unfortunately, that meant letting my father down, as if it were possible to let him down any more than I already had.
In three years, I’d failed to bring up any solid evidence that pointed the finger at someone for his murder.
There was a ton of suspicious circumstantial evidence, but without the resources of the force, how much I could do was limited to what I could find on public records and who was willing to speak to me, which in this city was next to none.
Flashing your badge did nothing but make people clam up or run, and unfortunately, over the years, I’d poked around too much, and now my face was too well known.
Anyone who knew anything about the current ownership of buildings that used to be Dad’s would run the moment they saw me or threaten to call my sergeant if I didn’t leave.
Cade popped into my mind, and I wondered if it would be too much to ask him to do some snooping around for me.
Scoffing, I snatched up my purse and stepped out of the car, slammed the door harder than I had intended, and rubbed the roof of my car gently, apologizing to her.
Not only would it be too much, but it would be a ridiculous ask. Cade was sweet, funny, and sexy as fuck, and maybe there was something there.
But was I willing to ruin yet another personal relationship over this investigation?
How far was I willing to go?
I kicked an empty paint can, cursing when it went flying and knocked several others over, causing one hell of a racket and an equally annoying mess in the garage.
To the ends of the earth.
That’s how far I’d go to bring the person, or people, who had killed my father to justice, and if no one believed me, then maybe I’d need to take justice into my own hands.
While I could talk a big game, the thought sent a shudder down my spine.
Could I take a life?
Stripping off my clothes as I wandered through my house, which felt bigger than usual despite the mess, I pulled on a T-shirt and a pair of sweats before collapsing face-first on the couch and groaned loudly into the cushion.
Forgive me, Dad, I’m not giving up on you.
I simply need to keep my head down for a while.
He wouldn’t want me to ruin my life trying to avenge his.