10. Chapter Ten
Chapter ten
Carter
The cold air bites at my cheeks as I step onto the sidewalk, scanning the road and parked cars for Detective Bennett. I don’t know what he drives, so I don’t know what I’m looking for. Something showy, like an SUV, probably. Eh, I’m not sure that fits his personality.
A truck. Yep. Definitely a truck. One of those giant ones that rumbles like a plane, and someone my size needs to hold on to the bar to step up into.
“Have a good night, Carter.”
“Yeah, you too.” I smile at Jackson, who lifts his hand in a wave, then starts down the street.
“You sure you’re good?” Kane asks, coming up to my side.
“Yes, Kane.” I roll my eyes. “Thank you, but I’m good. I’m getting picked up.”
“All right, just making sure. See ya.”
A few more people come out, saying their goodbyes or waving as they head to wherever they need to go for the night.
I sniffle and hunch my shoulders as a sharp breeze blows, small bits of snow from the piles on the street lifting and landing against my skin. My hands go into my pockets, and I sure do wish I had those mittens Ryan always yelled at me about wearing.
“Hey!” I look to my left and see the detective hurrying over. I raise a brow, wondering where he came from. He stops in front of me.
“When you said you’d pick me up, I hadn’t imagined a piggyback ride.” I smirk.
His eyes narrow, and he hooks his thumb over his shoulder.
“I parked around the block.”
I nod and start walking. He keeps up the pace.
“Do you ever laugh? Because if not, you should tell me. I’ll give up trying to make you,” I say.
“Don’t give up,” is his response, but it’s as dry as everything else he says.
Typical detective with no emotion. At least, most of the time. There is a lot of kindness to his voice when it matters, I just can’t tell if it’s genuine or not.
I hold back the laugh when we round the corner and he clicks the button to unlock the doors of a dark grey Dodge Ram. I get in as smoothly as I can, hoping I look like I do it every day and not like a baby deer trying to find its legs.
It’s still warm inside the cab, which I’m thankful for. He starts the truck, and heat blasts through the vents. I aim the ones on my side toward me, holding my hands in front of them in the way you do with a fire. They burn before warming up.
Neither of us says anything as he pulls off onto the road and drives. We’re stuck in traffic for a little bit, but it soon disperses and we get through.
“Not even going to pretend you don’t remember how to get to my place?”
“Would it make you happier if I did?”
I shrug. “Just feels weird that you know so much about me, and I don’t know anything about you.”
“You want my address?”
I huff a laugh, shaking my head as I turn my attention out the window.
“You hungry?” he then asks.
“I could eat.”
“Let’s grab food first. Then you can give me your address. It’ll all be normal.”
“Sure. Normal,” I mutter as the memory of why he’s here hits me.
I suddenly realize eating won’t do me any good. It’s only going to make me sick. But he’s already driving like he knows exactly where he’s going, and I don’t want to make things difficult. If I want to help Ryan, I need to do this. He suffered that night. I can suffer now.
We pull up to a diner that’s right before the freeway exit. It’s just your typical small diner that I’ve gone by enough times to know it’s there, but have never really looked at before. There are a few cars in the parking lot, and warm yellow light bleeds out through the large windows.
Detective Bennett pulls into a spot a good distance away from the other cars.
If he were someone else, I’d assume he wasn’t comfortable parking this large thing around other vehicles, but something tells me this man can do anything he puts his mind to.
He just has those strong, stubborn vibes.
He’s worried about other people hitting him.
As I get out of the truck, I focus really hard on not falling on my ass. Detective Bennett holds the diner door open for me, and I step inside.
“Anywhere you’d like, fellas,” the young waitress behind the counter calls out.
Sports play on the TV, and people sit at the bar and tables, eating, drinking, and chatting.
Black and white photos of the diner when it was first built hang on the wall, along with some certificates and a five-dollar bill. People still do that?
The detective then leads me to a table toward the back, away from others.
We scoot into the booth, him taking the seat that allows him to face the door. I don’t like having my back to it either, and normally I’d be sitting on that side, but there isn’t nearly as much anxiety around it as I usually have.
I feel safe with this man, I realize, just now.
Maybe because he’s a cop and I’ve spotted the gun on his belt.
But I don’t think it’s just that. It’s something about his personality.
This man really is here to help solve the murder of my late boyfriend.
I wasn’t sure at first, but after getting to know him a little better, I can feel his good intentions.
He’s a protector, not in it for the money.
He cares. It’s relieving—but not something I should get used to.
He won’t be around forever, so I can’t lose the skills I’ve gained in the last couple of years.
But I won’t lie. Thinking of someone else watching my back, for even just half an hour while I eat a meal, takes so much weight from my shoulders.
It has a giddy feeling forming in my stomach, and I do my best to push it away because it’s too easy to get caught up in those feelings.
An older waitress with short grey hair and piercing blue eyes comes over with a coffee carafe to take our order, but I’ve been daydreaming so I tell her I need a minute to decide, but ask for a water. Detective Bennett gets coffee, which she pours right away.
“If I drank coffee right now, I’d be up all night.”
“That’s the plan,” he says, pouring a tiny container of creamer into the cup. Just one. No sugar. Then takes a sip as if it isn’t hot when I can see it steaming.
“You part vampire?”
He doesn’t exactly smile at that, but something softens on his face. I’m getting close. And now, I’m determined.
“Would make my life easier, I think.”
“How so?”
He shrugs, resting his forearms on the table. “I’d have more time to get work done.”
“Is that all you do with your life?”
“What else is there?”
“I don’t know. Family. Friends. Fun?”
“Do you have fun?”
My brow shoots up, feeling called out but not defensive. He doesn’t make me feel like I have to throw my walls up. Not when it comes to me. When it comes to Ryan and this case, the jury is still out…
“I try,” I start. “I volunteer at an animal shelter on Saturday mornings, and I know you’re going to say, ‘that’s not fun,’ but it is for me. I can’t have a pet, so this is my way of having one.”
“Why can’t you have one?”
“I mean, I guess I could. It would just be left alone all the time because I work so much and that’s not fair.”
He nods. The waitress comes back with my water, and I realize again that I haven’t looked at the menu, so I quickly pick it up.
“Do you need another minute?” she asks kindly.
“Nope, just start with him and I’ll be ready.”
I scan the menu as quickly as I can, figuring I’ll just get a burger. Detective Bennett orders his meal, a pasta dish, and she turns her attention onto me. I order a burger that has an egg and bacon on it with a side of sweet potato fries. She smiles, takes our menus, and walks away.
“Sorry, I’m always in a strange mood after group. It’s hard to focus.”
“No need to apologize,” he says sincerely, reaching for his coffee.
“So, what do you do when you’re not working?” I ask. “Seriously, because it can’t be all you do.”
“I moved here about a month ago from Chicago, so yeah, it’s really all I do.”
I knew he wasn’t from around here. There’s something about him that just says, “I’m not from New York.”
“There is so much to do in New York. You haven’t found one thing?”
“I came here for work. I’m trying to get acclimated. Find my space.” I nod. “I do talk to my brothers, though.”
“You’re close?”
“Wouldn’t say close, but they’re younger than me, so I’m responsible for them.”
“Are they little or something?”
He smirks, and I feel like I’ve won something.
“No, they’re grown men with their own lives, but in my head, they’re still my little brothers, so…” He shrugs, then flicks his gaze to mine. “You have any siblings?”
“No. Only child.”
“Lucky,” he comments.
“I don’t know. I think it would be nice to have someone forced to be nice to me.”
Now he chuckles. Yep, I’m definitely winning over here.
“I don’t think we’d be close if we hadn’t gone through what we did.”
I remember then that he said he lost someone too.
“You said you lost someone. A parent?”
“Both.”
“How long?”
He flinches like the question hurts. “Twenty years ago.”
I huff a laugh, a heavy pit settling in my stomach. “So I can look forward to feeling like this forever?”
“No,” he says again, this time more adamantly. “I mean, it’s always there, but you learn to live with it. Each day gets easier. It just… never goes away.”
“It’s been almost three years…”
The detective nods. “I’d like to speak from experience, but our situations are very different. I was only sixteen when it happened. I had two little brothers that I gave all my attention to, so I could hide from the pain. I did that for a long time, and maybe I still do.”
“So, I need to find something to keep myself busy? Because I do that. I work full time. Volunteer. Go to group. I do everything I can so I’m not home alone and left with my thoughts.”
“Those are the moments I call my brothers. Or, surprisingly, they call me.”
“I don’t have anyone to do that with.”
“You can call me.”
“What?”
“Call me. When you’re home alone and feeling like shit, you call me. Any time.”
His expression is so serious I feel like he might start grilling me with questions about the murder, like I’m a suspect. But I know that’s not what’s happening.
“No, I’m not—”
“Why not?”
“Because you…”
Because he what?
He watches me carefully, and his face softens slightly, an understanding look crossing his face.
“I don’t even know you,” I finally say.
“Does that matter? How well do you know the people at group? You open up to them. I’m here to help, Carter. If you need someone to talk to at three in the morning, call me. I’ll probably be up. And I can promise you, my brothers won’t be.”
That… that has my chest tight. Because I realize that he isn’t saying this for only me. It’s for him too. And maybe he doesn’t realize that, but I do. So I agree. What harm could it do?
Our food finally comes, and the tension that was in the air lessens. We eat and have normal, calm conversations like anyone else would.
“Do you have a favorite animal at the shelter?” he asks as he reaches for his coffee—it’s the second cup. I note how large his hand is, making the cup look like a child’s toy. Strong. Rough. Capable. Hands that could fix anything. Maybe break anything, too.
I immediately look away, realizing where my thoughts are heading. That’s never happened before. I’ve never looked at someone like that. Not since Ryan…
“Carter?”
“Huh?” I look up at him. “Yeah, sorry. Uh, favorite… yes. Teddy. She’s a retriever mix. So sweet. Scared of everything.”
“But not you?”
I huff a small laugh, thinking about her sweet little furry face. I love that dog so much.
“I’m patient with her. If I could take a dog home, it would be her, but she really needs someone around all the time. Even if I could afford a doggy daycare, she’d never survive there.”
“Maybe Teddy doesn’t need more attention,” he says.
I frown. “Then what does she need?”
“One person.”
“One person?”
He nods.
“One person who’s patient. One person who understands her. One person who keeps showing up, even when she doesn’t make it easy.”
For some reason, I can’t look away from him. His eyes… there’s something about them. Dark brown and so full of emotion. I don’t know what it is, but when I look into them, not a single part of me thinks he’s pretending.
It hits me a little too hard, right in the chest. It’s hard to breathe.
“That’s all?” I croak out.
“Sometimes that’s everything.”
All I can do is nod in response and finish eating my food, even though I don’t really want it. Detective Bennett pays the bill, even though I offer to. He glares like I’ve offended him, so I drop it.
It’s dark when we get outside. I hadn’t even realized that happened, but it is winter and the sun doesn’t like to show her face this time of year. We get into the truck that is as cold as it is outside, but it doesn’t take long for it to warm up.
“Thank you, Detective B—”
“Please, call me Nash.”
“Okay, Nash. Thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.”
He takes a wide turn out onto the road. It’s not so busy now, and getting home shouldn’t take too long.
“You do realize this thing barely fits down these roads, right?” I say as he turns down a road that in no way should be a two-way, especially with vehicles this size on them.
“It fits.”
“You had to park it two blocks away to pick me up.”
“It was only one block.”
I chuckle.
“That doesn’t help your case.”
Another smirk.
I smile to myself and watch the buildings go by as Nash drives me to my apartment.