Chapter 10
“Hey, so—”
“Not now,” I snap.
I don’t bother to check whether Mack’s pissed about being ignored. I’m on a mission. A mission that involves me marching into Chief Jude’s office to tell him everything—about the odd caller, about my connection to the latest victim, about the email chat that took place after.
All of it.
I hardly slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard his voice inside my head. It tore at the thin veil separating what’s real and what’s imagined. In short, I hated it. Hated that it’s stuck with me. Hated how it made him feel like a part of my world.
“Whoa, I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”
My hand is already stretched toward Chief Jude’s doorknob when Martinez intercepts, blocking me from the entrance.
“I need to speak to him.”
“Not right now you don’t,” Martinez says, and when he points toward the window, prompting me to peek into Chief’s office, I get a glimpse of what he means.
Chief is out of his seat, pacing as he and a very red-faced Commissioner Phillips appear to be having a heated discussion.
“What’s going on?”
Martinez, realizing I’m heeding his warning, steps aside, slipping both hands inside his pockets.
“They’ve been going at it for at least an hour. Some budget bullshit.”
Damn it. I hoped to get this off my chest sooner rather than later. Now, it looks like I’ll have to wait.
My gaze veers right when I feel Martinez’s eyes on me.
“I’m uh… due for a break,” he says with a smirk. “What do you say we take it together?”
Typically, I can pretend not to be annoyed with his fuckery, but in addition to not having slept last night, my nerves are fried. And now Martinez knows that, too, when I roll my eyes and walk away.
“Chill, Bennett,” he says, laughing as he takes my hand, but I recognize that look in his eyes and launch a preemptive strike.
“Red light.”
He laughs harder, stepping closer to whisper. “Relax, I didn’t say anything about fucking you.”
“No, but I know you, Martinez.”
I attempt to walk away again, but he doesn’t let go. My eyes dart around to make sure no one’s watching.
“Fair enough,” he whispers. “Okay, so our routine’s gotten predictable. Which is why you should let me switch things up.”
My eyes flit toward his, but I don’t speak.
“You look tense. Let me take you to dinner tonight.”
I hold his gaze, trying to remember the last time we did anything but hole up in my apartment and fuck. But then he smiles, and it weakens my will.
“Please?” he adds, biting his lower lip while awaiting an answer.
I glance toward Chief’s office again, hating that such an important conversation will have to wait. Then, my eyes are on Martinez again.
“Fine. Pick me up at seven.”
He arches a brow and smiles. “Yes, ma’am.”
* * *
Martinez orders for us both, then hands our menus off to the waiter. I’m a little shocked when he doesn’t reach for his phone, and then rests his arms on the table before giving me his undivided attention.
“Ready to talk about what had you so upset this afternoon?”
I set my glass back down after sipping some of my water. “Wasn’t important.”
“It didn’t look like it wasn’t important,” he shoots. “It looked like you were pretty upset.”
I’m silent, and he shrugs.
“At least tell me you don’t feel like talking about it, so I know I wasn’t imagining things.”
“Fine, I don’t want to talk about it.” I flash an insincere smile that’s gone just as quickly as it came.
“And I respect that.”
I breathe deeply, pushing the memory of that call out of my head, how I was completely fooled into thinking the man I conversed with was just another of the regular Joes I hear from. Meanwhile, I had a fucking killer on the line and didn’t even realize it.
In my defense, I may be contracted by the police department, but I’m not a detective. Maybe if I were, he wouldn’t have slipped past me.
And… maybe I wouldn’t have inadvertently marked a woman for death.
“Still with me?”
Martinez raises a brow, and apparently, I missed something.
“Sorry. Got lost in thought. I’m back,” I say with a smile.
“Good, now tell me more about this… engagement dinner thing. Should I be scared to meet your friends?”
This time, when I smile, it’s a real one, triggered by thoughts of Dove, Eliza, and Isha.
“Oh, you should definitely be scared,” I say with a laugh as a basket of chips is placed on the table.
Martinez thanks the waiter, still smiling at my answer. “Damn. Guess I’d better bring my A-game.”
“Up to you, but if you don’t, you’ll never hear the end of it.”
He digs into the food and the conversation fades, so my gaze wanders. For a while, I’m fixated on a couple out with who I assume to be their two children. The mom wipes the little girl’s salsa-covered fingers, and then playfully pokes the tip of her nose.
Watching moms with their kids always fascinates me, forcing me to compare the interaction with my own experience, finding it hard to recall similar moments. Ones filled with tenderness, love. Even when my mother had the occasional good day, I was on pins and needles, waiting for the inevitable, abrupt ending. Once the switch flipped, Dad and I were plunged back into the mania right along with her.
These dark glimpses into my past are the reason I’m sometimes grateful for my spotty memory of childhood. Perhaps it’s intentional, walls I’ve erected myself to protect me from certain truths.
The mom kisses her daughter’s forehead, and I’ve had about all I can take of their little display as jealousy seeps into my bones. My gaze shifts out the window next, scanning the small shops starting to close down for the night—a bike shop, a kitty café, a watch repair shop. One of the open signs clicks off while I’m staring at it, drawing my attention to something else.
A shadow standing beneath the awning.
If I’m not mistaken… that shadow is focused intently on me and Martinez.
“You keep leaving me.”
My eyes dart to Martinez before quickly snapping back toward the shadow. Only to find that it isn’t there anymore. Assuming it ever was.
“You know, I’m starting to think you’re not really feeling this,” Martinez says.
I don’t immediately answer, because I’m searching the now dimly lit street for what I saw.
Or… what I think I saw.
“Wanna get out of here?”
Eventually, I give up my search, thinking I’m legit losing my fucking mind. I focus on Martinez again, remembering he’s just asked a question.
“Sorry, what was that?”
He rests both elbows on the table when he smirks and leans in. “I’m just thinking we can take off. You know, for dessert?”
He’s a lot of things, but subtle isn’t one of them. I’m also kicking myself for thinking this dinner wouldn’t end with him trying to get his dick wet.
But he’s actually in luck. Given the events of the last twenty-four hours, I could probably use the help getting my mind off things. Even if only for a little while.
“Fine, but my place is a mess.”
“Do I look like I give a shit?” he smirks. “Trust me, the last thing I’ll be thinking about is your dirty laundry, Layla. Besides, your place is closer, and I’m not sure I can wait.”
He glances down at my tits in another non-subtle gesture.
I suppress an eye roll, already sliding out of the booth as he drops cash onto the table.
“Then, my place it is, I guess. Again.”