Chapter Six Benson #2
I want to ask her why. Demand it. But the words lodge in the back of my throat because the real reason doesn’t matter—not anymore. Whatever we were, whatever we could’ve been died a long time ago. There can never be an us again, no matter how much a part of me still wants to believe otherwise.
I inhale a deep, controlled breath, reining in my emotions.
If we’re going to work together, I have to keep it professional.
I can’t let her back in, no matter how bad I want to.
But I do need her help. Karmen is sharp and quick on her feet and can be a force when she wants to be.
God knows I need every weapon in my arsenal, and I can’t trust her with my heart, but I can trust her with my life.
“Fine, but we do it my way,” I relent.
She laughs, the familiar sound I’ve missed so much, anchoring like a hook deep inside my chest.
So much for ignoring my emotions.
“I expect nothing less,” she says.
* * *
We spent the next several hours reviewing every personnel file within my department and outside of it.
Although my clearance and access were blocked due to my suspension, I called my brother Reid, who works for the FBI, and we were able to secure the files that way.
It’s unethical and illegal, but it’s good to have family in high places.
It didn’t matter how much distance I tried to put between us; she was everywhere.
Everything about her was foreign, yet achingly familiar.
Like the way she tapped and tugged at her bottom lip when she was deep in thought, or how her brow furrowed when she was concentrating, or how the smell of her expensive perfume kept invading my goddamn nose every time she moved or shifted in the seat.
I used to lie awake at night, holding her in my arms, breathing her in.
“I think we need to focus on Gainey. He must know something,” she says, her gaze lifting to mine over the screen of her laptop.
I clear my throat, burying the simmering emotions.
“Jeremy Gainey has worked the evidence locker for as long as I’ve been with the department.
He’s a family man. Married to his wife for over a decade, with two small kids and a nice suburban home.
He’s a decent guy,” I say, getting a little defensive.
She removes her glasses and lays them down on the table next to her laptop, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“He also has a mountain of credit card debt and a mortgage he can’t afford since his wife was laid off last year.
” She exhales a long breath. “I’m not saying he’s a bad person, but sometimes good people do bad things when they’re desperate.
” She puts her glasses back on, then returns my glare.
“Set aside your personal feelings, Benson, and look at this objectively. That’s why IA was called in.
You’re too close to the people and circumstances surrounding this case. ”
I know she’s right, but fuck if I don’t want her to be.
“How long have you been with Internal Affairs?” I ask.
I’d been wanting to ask her since she walked into that interrogation room yesterday.
Shifting in her seat, she returns her attention to the screen, delicate jaw working back and forth. “Six months.”
I grind my teeth as my pulse quickens. “You’ve been back in DC six fucking months?”
Her gaze shifts to mine. “This wasn’t my first choice. I applied to the other precincts, but none of them were hiring for anything other than patrol.”
Pushing my chair back, I stand, running a hand through my hair.
“You’ve been here six months, and you didn’t even have the decency to let me know? The least you could have done was give me a heads-up.”
I pace, lungs constricting.
“I’m sorry. You’re right, I should’ve told you. I just—I was afraid.”
“Why the hell would you be afraid of me?”
“Because I knew you hated me, and I—”
My phone buzzes across the table. For a few tense moments, I ignore it, holding her pleading stare. Had she hurt me?
Yes.
Did she crush my heart and leave a gaping wound in my chest?
Fuck yes.
Do I hate her?
Never.
I glance down, noting the familiar name on the screen, and I pick it up to answer, even though I know I shouldn’t. “Cunningham.”
“Hi, handsome.”
I walk over to the window overlooking the river, my mind still trying to wrap around the fact that Karmen has been here for six months and I didn’t even know. What would I have done if I had known? Does it even matter now?
“Hey.”
“It’s been a while,” her sultry voice murmurs over the line. “I’m in town this weekend, and I thought we could get together.”
“I can’t. I’m uh…” I glance back at Karmen, who’s still got her eyes locked on her laptop. I lower my voice. “I’m a little tied up at the moment.”
“Oooh, that sounds fun.” Her voice is all sweet and seductive. “Just tell me what time, and I’ll come to you later.”
I met Juliet a couple of years ago. She’s a rep for our health insurance company through the department. We hook up sometimes when she’s in town. She talks a lot, but she’s a sweetheart and loves to fuck.
“Sorry, Juliet. I can’t. Maybe next time.”
“Well, damn, guess that means I’ll have to find someone else to satisfy this itch,” she says.
“Guess so.”
“Call me if you change your mind.”
“Will do.”
Ending the call, I pocket my phone and walk back over to the table.
She doesn’t look up from her laptop when she asks, “Is Juliet upset you won’t be fucking her tonight?”
A smug satisfaction curls through me at her obvious jealousy.
“You don’t get to ask me that.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” She closes her laptop. “It’s late. I should go.” Shoving her things into her bag, she grabs her purse. “I’ll be back in the morning. We can figure out our next move then.”
Every instinct has me wanting to stop her, to pull her into my arms and demand to know why. Why did she give up on us so easily? How could she be in the same city as me for six months and not tell me?
Hand on the knob, she stops, keeping her back to me, head bowed. “I know I hurt you, Benson. I can’t change that. No matter how much I wish I could. But please don’t punish me,” she murmurs, her voice shaking a little. “I’ve punished myself enough.”
Then she’s gone.
I stand there stunned, her words settling like a rock at the bottom of the Potomac.
Does she regret leaving me? Does she regret walking away from me when I promised to give everything up to be with her?
And what did she mean about punishing herself?
The only person who should be punishing her is me.
Guilt gnaws at me. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have answered the call. I knew why Juliet was calling, but I wanted a reaction, and damn if I didn’t get one.
Just not the one I wanted.