Chapter Twenty-Two #2
“Yeah, it is. You like her, and I’ve come along and ruined your plans to weasel your way in.
But just because you don’t like that we love spending time together, doesn’t mean I’m doing shit to your investigation.
So you can fuck off with your shitty accusations.
And whilst you’re at it. Stop talking to her as if she doesn’t know what she’s doing.
Katie’s gut feeling has helped your department put away more than one killer, so I don’t know why you’re doubting her now. ”
He sticks his thick finger in my face. His eyes darken, his pupils like pinpricks. His nose scrunches as if he can’t stand to breathe the same air as me. “I’m going to find out who stole that evidence, and I’m going to come for them. You can take that to your boss.”
He stalks out of the house, slamming the door as he goes.
Katie’s bottom lip quivers, and I round the counter to hold her up. She flumps against my chest, and I feel her tears soaking through my shirt.
“Hey, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my cool with him. I can go and apologize on Monday after everyone has had a chance to calm down.”
“You? Why would you apologize? He was acting like a total douche turd.”
“A douche turd? Really, princess? A turd that uses a douche?”
She gives me a wet chuckle and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. God, she’s disgustingly cute.
“Well, he’s being one. How dare he suggest those awful things to you? I wanted to give him a swift uppercut to the nose.”
“You want to ride to my rescue, princess? That’s very queen-like behavior of you. You must like me an awful lot.”
“Don’t read too much into it,” her muffled voice sounds out as she hides her face in my chest.
I take a deep breath. No, I didn’t do what the detective accused me of, but still . . . I need to tell Katie everything about the colonel.
“I did get a call from my boss yesterday. Detective Biceps isn’t wrong when he says they’ve been pushing for the case to be under military investigation. But the call yesterday . . .”
I stop rubbing my hands over my face.
“What is it?” she whispers.
“They’re relocating me. To the East Coast. They’re not happy with how the investigation has been done on my part.”
“What? They can’t do that, can they?” Her lips part, and her fingertips tighten their grip on my arms.
“They can do whatever they like. I’m military property; they can just transfer me. Besides, I don’t really blame them because I haven’t exactly done anything to help this case. You had it handled the whole time.”
“That’s not true, and you know it. You helped me more than you can imagine.” Fresh tears threaten to fall down her cheeks, and it guts me. How the hell am I going to help her from the East Coast?
“For full disclosure, he said that if I manage to convince you to report that you believe Connor Maddox is the perpetrator and that you recommend it be a military trial, he’ll let me stay here.”
“Jonesy . . . I—”
I take her hand, kissing her knuckles. “I know, I would never ask you to do that. Dr. Rayasam’s ethics class is literally seared into my retinas. He’ll be haunting me from the grave if I do that.”
“He’s dead?” she screeches.
“Oh, he would be. He’d drop dead from a heart attack if I breached the ethics contract he made us sign at the end of the semester.”
“Oh my God, I forgot about that.”
“He looked me dead in the eye and said he would know if I ever broke it, and he would come and find me.”
Her eyebrows pinch together, and I laugh. “I wish I were joking, but honestly, that guy was nuts. Psychologists make the worst patients.”
“We really do,” she hums. “What are we going to do?”
I push her wild hair back behind her ear, but it instantly pops out again. “That’s up to you. I want to be here for you. I don’t want to go back to how it was before. I like you, Katie. I can’t give you up now.”
It’s more than that. It’s fifteen years of pining.
Fifteen years of watching from the sidelines as she dates assholes not worthy of her time.
But I can’t tell her this now. One, it’s too soon; she’s not ready to hear it.
And two, if I have to leave, I don’t want to pressure her into committing to me.
Even if my body is screaming for her to be mine in every sense of the word.
Her eyes shine with tears. “You mean that?”
“I’m not scared to admit that I’m a bit obsessed,” I concede.
Her smile stretches, her watery eyes lighter. “I knew it.”
“You’re a real pain in my ass. Can you just kiss me now?” I say, grabbing the underside of her chair and pulling it closer to me.
“We have things to discuss.”
“Sure.”
“Important thin—” I cut her off by crushing my lips against hers, cupping her face as I do.
Her cheeks are damp, and I swipe away the tears she’s already shed.
My poor princess. So much going on in that busy brain of hers.
I’d do anything to get into her head and tidy up.
Help her sort out all her thoughts. We’ve made so much progress in the last few weeks, and now she sleeps so much better.
How can I leave her knowing what she’ll have to deal with alone if I do?