“Ah.” I glanced at the name, recognizing it instantly. “Shit. Liz?”
He nodded, his jaw still tight.
I remembered Liz. She’d always been quiet, shy. Even back then, she’d cowered behind her football playing boyfriend, never speaking out of turn. Guess they’d stayed together, and gotten married. Too bad she hadn’t left town for college, and tried to find a guy who wouldn’t treat her horribly. “She married him?”
He nodded again.
I stared at the reports of abuse, feeling sick to my stomach. “She should’ve left town. Tried to find somewhere else where she wasn’t stuck standing behind him, keeping his shadow company.”
He looked at me slowly, his shades hiding his eyes. “Not everyone can just pack up their shit and go, Sarah. Sometimes, people stay. Sometimes they don’t have a choice. You’re lucky that you were able to leave your situation, but not everyone can.”
Tensing, I stared down at the file. This wasn’t about me. It was about a woman who may or may not be okay, all because of an asshole who didn’t know how to treat a woman right.
We were silent the rest of the ride.
After a few minutes, he pulled up to a one-story, brick home. Someone mowed the lawn recently. Pruned flowers filled the flowerbeds, and the porch held no clutter. Just some wicker furniture, a table, and a wind chime adorned it. Everything had been carefully arranged, pristine. Too pristine.
Ben frowned. “I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling.”
I swallowed hard. A shiver went up my spine. “Me too.”
“Approach with caution,” he said, opening his door.
I did the same, my hand on my Glock. “Together, or do you want to go around the back?”
“Together.” He surveyed the house, frowning. “I don’t want one of us being taken off guard.”
I nodded, not speaking, watching his back and surveying the surrounding trees. Nothing moved. Nothing made a sound. It was quiet. Too quiet. The hairs rose on the back of my neck, and I crept closer to Ben. I might not like it, but he was my partner, and I’d be damned if something happened to him on my watch. As he went up the stairs to the porch, I noticed something I hadn’t seen from the driveway.
A stack of mail on the table beside the door.
Packages, flyers, letters. All untouched.
The hair on the back of my neck rose higher, and I stopped walking. “Ben.”
He glanced back at me, his eyes slightly wide. It wasn’t until his wide eyes registered with mine that I realized I’d used his first name for the first time since we’d been paired up. “Yeah?”
“Hold up.” I stepped closer. “We should call for back up.”
“Why?” he asked, frowning.
“I have a feeling. A bad one.”
I half expected him to make fun of me, or say something about how around here, they didn’t work on feelings, but facts. Instead, he surprised me. “I do, too. Unfortunately, I don’t think we need back up.”
“But…” I blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Breathe deeply.”
Frowning, I did as told. Roses. Grass. Trees. And then… Oh, God. And then, I smelled it. “No.”
“Shit,” Ben muttered, walking closer and approaching the door carefully. “Think it’s one of them, or both?”
“I don’t know,” I said, breathing through my mouth, instead of my nose, but it didn’t help. Now that I’d smelled it, there was no unsmelling it. “Should we call for backup just in case?”
He shook his head, his gaze on the front window as he removed his hand from the butt of his pistol. “No need.”
Even though it was pretty much the last thing I wanted to do, I approached, looking through the window, also. There they were—two bodies in varying stages of decomposition. There was no mistaking the fact that they were both dead. Very dead. Liz lay to the left of her husband, her shirt covered with dried up blood on her chest. There was a line of blood across the floor, as if she might have tried to crawl away but ultimately failed. While her husband had a clean shot to his left temple, with no signs of having lived long enough to hit the floor.
That wasn’t fair.
He deserved far worse than instant death.
My stomach rebelled, and I gasped a breath, turning around and bending over to breathe slowly, steadily, through my mouth. In. Out. In. Out. As I focused on my breathing, Ben called the station, informing the Captain that they were both D.O.A. It was not the news either one of us had hoped to share, but that was part of the job. Having to share the worst possible news…
At the worst possible time.
I glanced over my shoulder again, breathing heavily, my eyes locked on the couple inside the home. This case hit way too close to home—especially considering what we’d been talking about on the ride here. All I could think, besides the fact that this never, ever should have happened, was…
That could have been me.
Six
Ben
I had no idea what the fuck I was doing right now. Sarah, in no way shape or form, ever gave me so much as a clue that she wasn’t okay, or that she wanted me to show up on her door to check on her. Yet here I was, at her door, with every intention of checking on her. There had been something in her eyes as we said our goodbyes this evening that had stuck with me.
Something haunting.
Seeing Liz like that had been scarring, but I was kind of used to the horrible things people did to one another by now. I’d seen too much shit. Arrested too many monsters.
In a way, I was numb to the horrors I witnessed every day—I had to be to move on with my day. If I let the horrors of the world affect me, I wouldn’t be able to do my job calmly and efficiently. I never lost my cool, would never hesitate to take a shot if I had to, and never took a shot when I didn’t. In any situation, I knew what to do, and when to do it.
I took pride in that.
But seeing that look in Sarah’s eyes…it had set me straight on my ass. There had been something there, something hidden in those deep brown depths, that I’d been unable to ignore.
So. Here I was.
Shifting the six pack I carried into my other hand, I knocked softly three times. It was early still, only eight at night, but most of the lights were off in the house. Was she sleeping already? Footsteps sounded, and I felt her presence on the other side of the door.
Yes, that’s right. Felt.
After such a long pause that I was sure she was going to pretend she hadn’t heard me knock, the door unlocked with a click, and she opened it. “Rollins? What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”
Guess it had been too much to hope that her slip up with my first name would be permanent. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just…”
When I didn’t continue, she cocked her head adorably. She wore a pair of pajama pants with ducks on them, pink socks, and a strappy tank top that matched the yellow ducks. “You just what?”
Something told me if I admitted that I was worried that the case from earlier might have made her uneasy, due to her past with her ex, she would freeze up and push me out. I knew her as well as I knew myself, despite the years we’d been apart, so I didn’t want to say that. Instead, I settled for a different version of the truth. “We started off on the wrong foot.”
She crossed her arms and leaned on the door jamb, watching me from under her lowered lids. Jesus, her lashes were that long without makeup? “You mean, like when you said, and I quote, ‘Hell no, I’m not being her partner. Pick someone else.’ Is that what you’re referring to?”
Wincing, I nodded. “Yes. That.”
“Forgiven.”
It was my turn to cock my head. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
I snorted. “Yeah. Okay.”
“This was fun, thanks for stopping by.” She stepped back into the house and started to close the door in my face. “Buh-bye—”
“Wait.”
She blew out a breath and pushed her dark brown, a
lmost black, hair off her shoulder. “What?”
“I brought you beer.” I lifted my hand. “And takeout.”
She frowned, staring at me. “Why…?”
The way she looked at my hand, as if she expected the food to jump out and pounce on her, made me stiffen. Had I been that much of a prick to her that she didn’t even trust a meal coming from me? “Like I said, we started off on the wrong foot. I’d like to step forward on the right one this time. May I?”
She stared at me for so long I was starting to wonder if she’d been frozen in time. After what felt like a million years, she said, “Why are you doing this?”
“Do I have to have a reason?” I asked quietly, knowing damn well I did.
After all, I’d made it very clear I wanted nothing to do with her from the moment she’d stepped foot in my precinct.
She stepped back outside and crossed her arms. “Yeah. Start with why you’re acting like I’m the one who messed up all those years ago.”
“You left me without telling me—” I started, exasperation taking over any attempts I had at remaining calm and detached. I cut myself off, swallowing hard. Yes, she’d left me behind without an explanation, and yes, I’d loved her much more than she’d loved me, but that didn’t change anything about here and now. She was my partner, for better or for worse, and it was time we both accepted it. End of story. “I mean, we both know what happened back then. That’s not what matters, what matters is here and now.”
“Yes, we do know what happened.” She glanced behind her, nodded once, closed the door, then faced me. She squared her shoulders and pressed her mouth into a thin line, looking at me like she was ready to do battle. She wanted to fight? Fine, we’d fight. But I had no intention of losing. Not this time. “You cheated on me.”
My jaw dropped, then I stepped closer. Out of all the things I expected her to say, it wasn’t a blatant lie like that. “I did what?”
“You.” She poked my chest, voluntarily touching me for the first time since she came back to town. “Cheated.” A small push. I planted my feet so I didn’t budge, which only seemed to annoy her more. “On.” Another poke to the chest, harder this time. “Me.”
Snarling under my breath, I caught her wrist. And I didn’t let go. “The hell I did.”
“Don’t deny it.” She tried to tug free, but I didn’t budge. “I saw you.”
“You saw nothing,” I snarled, stepping closer, towering over her with my six-foot-three frame. She drew in a breath and held it as her nostrils flared slightly. “Because I never cheated on you. Why would I have? I had everything I wanted.”
She tried to pull free again. It didn’t work. “No one ever has everything they ever wanted.”
“Yes, they do.” I stepped even closer. So close, that I could smell her perfume. She still wore the same damn scent she’d worn when she had been mine. It was like a slap to the face, considering what she was accusing me of. “I did.”
She shook her head and stepped back, only to hit the front door, so it didn't do her much good. “Why are you denying it? It was years ago. It’s not like we’re ever getting together again.”
“I’m denying it because I didn’t fucking do it.” I tried my best to keep my voice down. But it was hard. The fact that she believed her lies…
It was infuriating.
For the first time since she started accusing me of this horrible thing, she looked confused. Uncertain. “I saw you in bed with Tiffany Thorne.”
I laughed. Straight up laughed. She was a fool. An utter, complete, beautiful, naïve fool. “Tiffany?”
“Yes. Tiffany.”
Shaking my head, I closed the distance between us, not giving a damn about personal space. “You mean Tiffany, who’s gay, and has literally no interest in men? That Tiffany?”
Her jaw fell open, closed, and opened again. “What?”
“Yeah. She’s gay. She’d be more likely to be caught in bed with you.”
“I would have known,” she protested.
“No, you wouldn’t have. No one knew but me. She trusted me with her secret, and we used to hang out a lot at parties because girls would leave me alone when she was with me, and I never had to worry about her falling for me, or getting the wrong idea. Because all I wanted was you.” I flexed my jaw. “That night, you were working, and she needed a wingman, so I went. She met up with someone at the party we went to, got lucky, and I gave her my bed to use, because she really liked her.”
“So, then, your bed…”
“Wasn’t mine that night.” I swallowed hard, locking eyes with her. “You walked away from me without a word for nothing, and that’s why I blame you.”
She said nothing.
Good. There was nothing to say.
Seven
Sarah
No. There was no way that hadn’t been him in that bed. His hair. The way he’d been holding onto Tiffany. The way the sunlight had played with the darker pieces…
It had to be him. Right?
He let go of my wrist, resting both his hands on either side of my head, but didn’t back off, or give me more breathing room. I was too distraught to really care. How could that not have been him? How could I have been so wrong?
“So. Let me get this straight. You saw me in bed with her, and you didn’t think that maybe, just maybe, we should have talked it out?” His jaw flexed. "You don't think that maybe, just fucking maybe, after years of being together, you should have tried to figure out what the hell was going on? Before you, I don't know, just up and left for college all the way across the damn country without telling me why?"
“When you cheated on me?” I pressed my lips together. “No. I didn’t.”
“I didn’t cheat on you,” he said between clenched teeth.
I shook my head, stubbornly refusing to believe him. “I saw you. Your hair…”
“She has a thing for girls with short hair.” He shrugged, staring down into my eyes. I couldn’t look away from his. They were warm. Angry. Passionate. Addictive. “Bigger girls. Sporty ones. Maybe she had a similar build to me. Maybe she was tall. I don’t know. But it wasn’t me. I never would have done that to you. Ever.”
I stared at him, breathing heavily, for the first time not so certain of what I’d seen in that bed. If he hadn’t cheated on me, if he hadn’t done the unforgivable…then he had every right to hate me as much as he did. I was the one in the wrong, not him. I’d been the one to ruin what we’d had, and broken his heart in the process, as well as my own.
That knowledge wasn’t an easy pill to swallow.
Oh God, what did I do?
“I…”
What was I supposed to say? That I was sorry? That I’d made a huge mistake? That it was too late to fix it now, but if I could go back in time to change what I’d done, I would. But…would I? Aside from Vinnie, I’d been happy in North Carolina. I’d made lifelong friends, gotten an amazing degree, and had become the woman I was today while there. Would I change all that if I could? Would I go back in time and choose him instead?
When I remained silent, he shook his head, letting out a laugh. “So that’s why you left me. Because I ‘cheated’ on you.”
I nodded, still saying nothing.
I’d been so young. So hurt. I’d just…ran. Was that so bad? Did that make me a bad person, that my fight or flight instinct had kicked in, and I’d chosen flight?
At my continued silence, he locked eyes with me again, staring down at me challengingly. If he was waiting for me to apologize, he’d be waiting a long time. I’d apologize if and when I deemed I should, and not a second before. After all, I’d done what I’d done because I thought he’d cheated on me. Now he was saying it wasn’t true, but who said that was the truth?
Maybe he was still covering his ass.
He’d never liked being the bad guy.
Laughing again, he shook his head slightly as he backed off. “Guess it really doesn’t matter anymore why we broke up, huh? It’s not like we’re goin
g to pick up where we left off.”
I snorted. I couldn’t help it. Despite my attraction to him, and any lingering feelings that I would deny until I turned blue in the face if asked about, he’d been a complete and utter asshole to me from the second I stepped foot in the precinct. I’d sooner kiss a frog than him.
Or so I kept telling myself, anyway.
He stiffened, stopping his retreat. He hovered over me now, his arms half bent, his face level with mine so his breath fanned over my cheeks. His breath smelled like whisky and gum. There was something in the way he pressed against me, his shoulders to mine and his hands on either side of my head, that screamed of dominance. Despite my earlier thoughts about not wanting to kiss him anymore, something in my stomach twisted, and I held my breath because oh my God, I wanted to kiss him. Right here. Right now. Would he taste as good as I remembered?
No. Probably even better.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked slowly.
His voice was deep. So deep it literally sent shivers down my spine.
Craaaaap.
I should back down. Talk him out of whatever the heck was happening. Make sure that we didn’t cross any lines, because there were about a million reasons why those lines shouldn’t be crossed. But he was looking at me as if he’d been waiting years for this moment, and if I was a little honest with myself, so had I. It was time to clear the air.
Then, maybe, we could finally move on…
And be partners.
So, I opened my mouth, and spoke without caution…God help us both. “It means that you’re right, and there’s no way in hell I would want to pick up where we left off.”
He laughed again, only it wasn’t really a laugh. It was more of a…challenge. “Is that so?”
“Yeah. That’s so.” I rested my hands on his chest, laying them on his hard (very hard) pecs. Clearly, some things had changed about him. I’d be willing to bet he never skipped a day at the gym, whereas as a teen, he’d been more apt to never skip a day at his Xbox. “You’re not exactly my type, Rollins.”
On the Line (Out of Line Book 7) Page 3
