Chapter 22 #2
Between finally letting go with Leo and seeing an unexpected side of him in front of his family, I’m losing focus. And I can’t afford to do that when I finally have a lead on Vince’s case.
Which is why I made sure he was still in bed when I left his place this morning.
And I’m ignoring the pit in my stomach each time I check my phone and see he hasn’t texted.
Keith’s eyes narrow. “What is going on, Mia?” he asks, catching me off guard with the way his voice transitions into a deeper tone.
“It’s too early to play Dr. Phil,” I groan, grabbing my mouse and pulling up my email. “I brought you coffee as a peace offering, not an invitation for an impromptu therapy session. Where are we at with the Mooney case?”
“His sister is coming in this afternoon for an interview,” he answers, his lip sinking slightly as he leans forward with a new determination.
“Listen, I’m not trying to annoy you. I’m just worried about you.
You disappear for hours, never answer my texts, and blow off happy hours.
Also, I tried stopping by your place the other day, and your neighbor said you haven’t been home for days. What the hell?”
Fuck.
I open my mouth, reaching for a lie, but my brain is completely empty.
Keith watches me closely, his expression slowly shifting from worry to realization. “You’re staying with someone? Fuck, don’t tell me it’s—”
“Don’t.”
“Mia.”
“Keith.”
He doesn’t find my reply funny. Doesn’t even crack a smile. “It’s temporary.”
“You know how stupid it is getting involved with that man, right? Jesus Christ, I should’ve never let you go with him last night. I’m an idiot,” he mumbles, planting his face in his hands.
“Shit,” I curse under my breath, quickly looking over my shoulder to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “It’s not your fault, Keith. Just please trust me when I say I’m handling it.”
Keith leans back in his chair, worry pushing together his brows in a way that I’ve never experienced before. He rarely pushes like this. He lets me have my space when I need it, and I do the same for him. But now that I’m trying to completely shut him out, he’s not letting me.
And I should be thankful for that.
“You’ve been off ever since the Russo case. You said you were fine letting it go, but now…now I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”
I clench the arms of my chair, playing with the idea of letting him in.
But then I think about how every time I close my eyes, I either see my dad bleeding out in that parking lot or Vince’s corpse rotting away on the pavement.
I can’t risk Keith’s life too.
I won’t.
“Do you remember when we first got assigned together?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says slowly, the wrinkles disappearing from his forehead. “You told me that you hate most people and you’d be surprised if we lasted a month.”
“To be fair, you were incredibly annoying.”
“Still am.”
I muster up a weak laugh even though it fades quickly.
Keith looks at me, his expression tense. “Mia—”
“You were the first person I chose to trust in a long time,” I admit, cutting him off. “I know I’ve been acting weird, but I promise I have it under control. I just need you to trust me and be patient.”
He lets out a restrained breath, a conflicted look in his eyes. “Fine. But whatever mess you’re in, I’m here if you need me.”
Guilt presses against my ribs as I nod with a weak smile.
“Now I think you have some explaining to do for offering me up to Katy on a silver platter,” he smirks, tilting his cup to his lips.
I continue to smile, thankful for the space as we ease back into our typical back-and-forth. “How did you find out about that?”
“I ran into her last night, and she asked when I wanted to take her to dinner,” he shrugs, setting his coffee down and leaning back in his chair.
“And you said?” I ask.
“I went along with it. I figured my partner must have a good reason for making a deal with a medical examiner.”
I scrunch my face together, a comforting warmth sparking up inside me. I open my mouth to respond, but then I hear, “Esposito, get your ass in here!”
Keith’s eyes widen, looking over his shoulder toward our Captain, who looks way too angry this early in the morning.
My heart rate spikes as I rise from my chair and wipe my palms down the side of my jeans. My partner gives me an encouraging nod before I navigate the last few feet to my apparent death sentence.
My boss could be mad at me for a number of things, but that list feels a lot more targeted these days. I’ve broken more rules in the last forty-eight hours than I have since I joined the force in my early twenties.
I left New York because I thought I could do better. Be better. But now I’m starting to realize that maybe that’s not possible. Maybe I was always supposed to go down the wrong path—it just took me longer than expected to get there.
“Close it,” he barks as soon as I enter his office. His eyes are glued to the computer screen in front of him.
I gulp, doing as I’m told. The smell of stale coffee and male testosterone in here is usually bearable, but today it’s thick enough to choke on.
“Sit.”
I lower myself into the chair in front of his desk, sitting on the edge and keeping my spine straight. He keeps me waiting, taking his time, aggressively hitting his keyboard and keeping his eyes anywhere but me.
A rush of blood muffles my ears.
Judgment day finally approaches as he grunts and leans back in his seat.
“Esposito,” he begins, rubbing a hand down the five o’clock shadow on his face.
“I’m going to give you one chance to explain why you’re still digging into the Russo case and why the hell you thought it was a good idea to drag Katy into this mess?
That case isn’t yours anymore, and now you’ve attracted the attention of the commissioner and some other higher-ups. ”
My stomach drops.
We would’ve been fine with just the bullet analysis, but the matchbook is what sent things over the edge. It was a risk. A stupid and na?ve risk.
Maybe Leo was right about me.
“I—” I sputter, but nothing comes out. Because where would I even begin? I was clearly in the wrong. I manipulated Katy into helping me, and now both of our jobs are in jeopardy.
“I shouldn’t have involved Katy,” I admit, lifting my chin. “I take full responsibility for everything.”
His eyes soften as he pulls back. “This is bad, Esposito. You threatened your career, your partner, and everything you’ve worked for over this—”
I cut him off. “Keith wasn’t involved. He doesn’t know I’m still investigating this case.”
The captain hums, shaking his head. Guilt flickers on and off inside me like a busted light bulb. “You don’t seem too upset for someone that could potentially lose their job over this.”
My jaw tightens. “With all due respect, sir,” I say, inhaling and exhaling quickly, “something about it doesn’t add up.”
He dips his head, attempting to hide the fact that his hard-ass expression is waning. Like he knows something I don’t. But then he looks back up and his face hardens again. “Unfortunately, that’s not your call to make.”
I stare blankly at the wall next to him, my eyes glazing over photos of his family and others of him in his uniform, slowly climbing up through the ranks.
I wanted to be in his chair someday. I thought I could make a difference.
But if it means ignoring justice because it isn’t convenient for the people that sign our paychecks, then maybe I am in the wrong line of work.
“I spoke with the commissioner this morning. He wanted me to fire you, but I talked him into a suspension,” he says, his words lingering with regret. “I need your badge and gun.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and nod, rising from my seat. “Yes, sir.”
My badge comes off first. It makes a satisfying clinking sound when I set it on his desk. Next is my gun. The same piece I’ve threatened Leo with multiple times since I met him. That feels harder to give up, but I do it.
The captain doesn’t say anything. His eyes just linger on the two discarded objects as I turn and head toward the door. Before I can make a graceful exit, he calls out.
“I’m sorry about this, Esposito. I know you thought you were doing the right thing, but you’ll understand someday. Just do me a favor and stay away from the Russo case.”
I nod my head again, too mentally exhausted for actual words. We both know I won’t.
When I step back into the bullpen, Keith is waiting.
“What happened?” he asks, rising from his chair.
I don’t stop walking until I get to my desk. I can feel the lingering stares and watchful eyes of other police officers as I shove all my things in my bag.
“I’ll tell you later,” I mutter, hoisting my bag over my shoulder and spinning on my heel.
“Mia, wait—”
“I said later,” I snap hard enough for him to listen.
It comes out harsher than I’d like, but I need to get away from him before I break.
The second I slow down and let myself think about what just happened, I know I’ll fall apart. And I can’t do that.
Not when I’m so close to finally getting justice.
Because someone went through a lot of trouble to keep this case buried, and I have a feeling I’ve been looking in the wrong places.
Which means there’s only one place left to look.
Unfortunately for me, Leo DeLuca is the only one that can help.