Chapter 5 #2
“Thanks, Pen.” I hang up, cutting her off as she begins to monologue about the pecan pie one of the deputy’s wives brought in.
“Sorry, no Briggs in Chaplain County, but he could’ve been picked up outside of our jurisdiction.
” I grimace in apology, not wanting Col’s overflowing plate to have another thing added to it, but his third roommate seems to need a constant babysitter, which is rather sad, seeing as he’s the oldest between the four of us.
“Shit,” Col swears, his tone making it obvious how worried he is.
Both he and Dayton have done everything they can to put Briggs back on the right path, but until he actually wants to get better, there’s not much else they can do.
Dayton has all but washed his hands of him, but Col is still determined to see it through and get Briggs on his feet again.
I don’t know the full story, but from what I’ve learned, he’s had a pretty rough go of it.
He’ll seem to be making progress, but then disappear for days on end.
When he finally stumbles back home, it’s obvious he’s been on a bender and up to no good.
Col insists he’s not a danger to anyone but himself, but I refuse to risk Andi, in any capacity, so for obvious reasons the two of them are none the wiser about one another.
“He’ll turn up, he always does,” I state reassuringly, trying to infuse my voice with confidence.
But truthfully, where Briggs is concerned, it’s almost impossible to be confident about anything.
He’s sporadic and unreliable, so who the hell knows where he is or what he’s doing, much less when or if he’ll be back.
But I refrain from voicing those thoughts, knowing they’d only cause Col to stress even more.
He’s not completely delusional when it comes to Briggs’ self-destructive nature and what that likely means for his future, but he’s not ready to accept it yet either.
“Yeah,” Col agrees robotically, his fingers spearing through the tangled mess of his hair, as if he’s repeated the motion a hundred times over the past few hours.
Clearing his throat, he straightens, seeming to pack away his worry before asking, “So I take it you still haven’t heard anything, and your grand idea to sway the FBI into making a move got you absolutely nowhere?
” I grunt, his bland tone irking my carefully contained temper.
“Do you realize how many laws I’m breaking just from you knowing about the case?
” I quirk an eyebrow, thinking back to the first time he let himself inside my home without so much as a knock.
“Your lack of neighborly etiquette is going to be the demise of my career.” I shake my head, remembering the way he’d stealthily snuck in to search for Briggs, thinking he might’ve wandered into the wrong apartment.
We share an old converted firehouse in the historical district, and what used to be the truck bays is now a courtyard of sorts, which you have to access in order to enter either of our units.
What Col ended up finding that day was far more damning than a little breaking and entering by his roommate.
I’d like to say I never would’ve confided in him or Dayton about Andi if he hadn’t discovered my makeshift office by trespassing, but I can’t be certain.
And that alone makes me a less credible detective.
Since the day we first met, and they invited me to sit around the fire pit they’d installed on their rooftop terrace, unwinding with a glass of whiskey, I felt a kinship forming.
I know I would never purposely jeopardize a case, especially Andi’s, but, shamefully, I felt a sense of relief that I was no longer alone in carrying such a heavy burden.
After going back and forth for a few days, I agreed to bring in Dayton as well, but thankfully, we were all in agreement that Briggs wasn’t stable enough to be trusted with such a fragile secret.
The consequences were too hefty to risk it.
“Nah.” Col waves away my worry with a swish of his hand.
“You know we’d never utter a word about Andi.
We care too much.” His words are barely discernible, but I can feel how true they are.
I can also read between the lines. They care a helluva lot.
Way more than I imagined possible when they’ve never even met her, which is only a step below the sixty seconds of actual face time she and I have had.
“I’d drink to that, but I’m all out.” I sigh heavily, pondering if another bottle or two would be wise, and how inebriated I’d be if I were to be called in for a case.
The grittiness of my eyes tells me I’ve gone too long without proper sleep, or at least anything consecutive.
The best I’m able to accomplish as of late is a few hours at a time.
“I need to crash anyway,” Col states, grabbing our empty bottles before turning towards the door.
“And you sure as hell do. Lookin’ a bit rough, man,” he tosses over his shoulder, a taunting smirk quirking his lips.
I grab the closest thing to me as I follow behind him–a dirty T-shirt I’d tossed over the arm of the couch–and sling it at the back of his head.
“Asshole,” I mutter, but his playful dig only draws attention to the exhaustion I’ve been trying to ignore.
As if speaking about it has served as a wake-up call, every ache that’s been dulled by my need to do something proactive suddenly flares to life.
The tension in my neck and shoulders speaks of an imminent migraine, and the sluggish way my limbs are moving leaves little doubt that I’ll be passed out within the hour, whether I want to be or not.
Col’s obnoxious cackling brings me back to the present.
He’s bent over the recycling bin, tying the bag so he can take it out.
I’m not even sure what day it is, so I have no idea if tomorrow is our scheduled pick-up, but Col’s penchant for taking care of everyone but himself won’t allow him to leave it.
I think a part of him worries that if he’s not useful to those around him, he’ll be cast aside, but that’s the analytical side of my brain coming out to play.
I hate when my training rears its head in my personal life, knowing that most people wouldn’t appreciate their peculiarities being picked apart and psychoanalyzed.
“Never claimed I wasn’t one, but we both know you’d be lost without me,” he brags jokingly, but there’s a heavy dose of truth underscoring his words.
My Nona used to say that the universe will place the right people in your life exactly when you need them the most, and Dayton and Col are proof of that.
As he blathers on about his importance in the structure of our friendship, I almost miss the chime that alerts me to an incoming message.
Glancing at my phone, I damn near drop the thing when Andi’s name flashes across the screen.
Col’s yammering becomes background noise as I hastily unlock it, my fingers trembling as I rush to get it open.
It takes me several seconds to process what I’m seeing, my grip turning slack and allowing it to slip from my hold.
“Holy shit!” My shout draws Col’s attention as I scramble for the phone, eager to prove that my eyes aren’t deceiving me from a lack of sleep.
The second I have it secured in my hand, Col is peering over my shoulder, a slew of curses flying from his mouth.
Anyone in a five-state radius would recognize Hudson Taylor, but Col knows just as well as I do how monumental this image is.
Andi’s haunted eyes are peering back at us while she cradles the sleeping toddler, but there’s no mistaking it’s him.
This isn’t the first time I’m seeing the opposing colors of her irises, but even from the few photos she’s shared, the sight hits me just as hard as it did the first time.
I have to press my palm against my chest; the ache I feel is so acute, it steals my breath.
How can something so eerily beautiful be viewed in such a negative light?
I hate that one of my favorite things about her has caused her so much pain.
“She looks thinner, Raiden.” Col’s voice has gone flat, the dark tone of it a clear indicator he’s seconds from exploding.
Taking a deep breath, I slam the lid on my emotions so I can do what needs to be done without the hindrance of overthinking everything.
I let instinct and years’ worth of training take the lead as I press play on the voice memo Andi included.
“Raiden…” Her voice cracks, and my name on her lips nearly causes my knees to buckle.
“I have Hudson Taylor. Please.” Her watery plea feels like my heart is at risk of being ripped from my chest cavity.
If Col’s white-knuckled grip on the countertop is any indication, he’s not faring much better.
“You need to come. Now. He can’t…he can’t stay here another day, Raiden.
You have to get him out.” Her words give me pause, the way she keeps emphasizing Hudson’s rescue and not her own.
After everything–all the sacrifices she’s made to get us to this point and the promises I’ve personally made her–she doesn’t believe she’ll actually make it out of there.
Or worse, she’s planning to do something stupidly heroic.
Oh, you sweet, silly girl. There’s not a chance in hell I’m leaving that place without you. Hold tight, minha luz?*. I’m coming, and there’s not a goddamn thing that could stop me.
*?my light