Heaven is Weeping (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 5)

by Morgan Kelley

  Holy shit! He had major problems.

  His life was fraying at the edges and falling apart.

  * * *

  Paris Archer was glad that the FBI had issued him a vehicle that had hand controls. It gave him the freedom to come and go as needed, and that was a good thing. As he pulled into his driveway, Tessa’s vehicle wasn’t there, and he was glad.

  For now, he wanted to decompress and work out the things he and Greyson had discussed earlier. All day, he was torn about what to do.

  While he was scared shitless to try and initiate sex with Tessa because he might fail, he couldn’t stand being treated like a cripple.

  Granted, he was one, but come on!

  He really needed a break from the constant barrage of his impediments. Paris was well aware that he’d never be the same again, but why dwell? What he really wanted was the old Tessa back, and he was dying to find a way to get it to happen.

  Once inside, he rolled himself into their new bedroom. Like his work family had promised, they’d come over while he was in the hospital and moved all his furniture around. His upstairs rooms were no longer being used, and all things on the main floor were wheelchair accessible.

  With their new larger bathroom, he could pretty much do anything, with the exception of reaching the light bulbs over the medicine cabinet to change them.

  Then again, that was something so minuscule that he didn't need to stress it. All in all, he liked their new home, and he was grateful. Freedom was an important thing.

  As he was sitting on the side of the bed getting changed, he heard the front door open and close. It appeared that Tessa was home.

  “Paris?” she called, searching for him.

  “I’m in here, Tessie.”

  The second she entered the room, Tessa plastered a warm smile on her face for him. It hid the sorrow just below the surface.

  “Hey, handsome! I missed you today,” she stated, heading toward him to share a kiss. The second she sat in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, there was peace. At least they still had this.

  It was something to hold onto.

  Paris fell into the kiss, letting Tessa share her warmth with him. He was grateful for this part of his life. At least he could hold her.

  When she broke away, he tucked a few strands of her black hair behind her ears. It was getting longer since she was growing it out for their wedding.

  “I didn't see you today,” he stated.

  “Yeah, I wasn’t in the office. I stopped in around lunch, but you were in a meeting,” she offered.

  “Busy day?” he asked, as she vacated his lap to begin getting changed. Paris watched her strip down out of her suit and into her lacy undergarments. His heart skipped as he watched the woman he loved walk around half-naked. Well, this part of him wasn’t broken. He was still attracted to her.

  A lot.

  “Yeah, I have a new partner,” she stated, grabbing a pair of shorts and tank top.

  At the words, all the sexy feelings he was having vanished. It was like having a bucket of ice water dumped on him. “Oh, really? What’s her name?” he asked. At one time, he hoped Curtis would be able to pair up with her, but he was still on probation.

  Fate was once more screwing with him.

  “My new partner is a he. His name is Joe Longfellow.”

  Paris feared this exact moment. His beautiful Tessa was now out in the field with another man.

  A whole man.

  An unbroken one.

  One who could give her so much more.

  Well, shit.

  “Has he been a Fed long?” he asked, slipping out of his shirt.

  Tessa glanced over. “Need my help?” she asked, trying to be nice.

  “No, I’ve got it, Tessa.”

  She focused on the question Paris had asked. “He’s been with the FBI around ten years. His partner just retired. I’m glad he’s good at his job. I don’t have the patience to train a newbie. It’s draining.”

  He stared at her. His heart ached.

  She was moving on.

  It was only time.

  It didn't take a smart man to see the writing on the wall.

  “That’s great, Tessa. I’m going to go shower,” he said, slipping back into his chair. Well, if he’d been thinking sex before, it was gone now. Paris was sinking. He needed to get away from her to regroup. At that very moment, there was so much sorrow and anger welling up in him.

  “Do you need me to come in and help?” she asked, hoping he’d want company. Tessa missed showering with him. God! She missed everything they’d once shared.

  “No, I’m fine.”

  Once more, she kept her mouth shut, accepting his withdrawal. She had no one to blame. After all, he was shot because of her. “I’ll go make dinner,” Tessa offered. At least she’d keep her hands busy.

  “Sure.”

  With that, he was gone. Tessa sat on the corner of the bed and listened to the water turn on. As soon as she knew it was safe, she allowed the floodgates to open.

  It was hard to pretend she was happy.

  She’d lost her partner, and now she was losing the man she loved. For the second time in four months, she believed that the road ahead was going to be too hard of a journey for her.

  There were so many doubts.

  Tessa Brass was losing all hope.

  * * *

  After three calls to his wife, none of which she answered, he decided to call his partner. After all, Curtis was supposed to be babysitting Emma. His job was to report back, and obviously, the man was insane if a potential mob victim slipped his mind.

  He should have notified him immediately. When it came to Marianna, you didn't screw around.

  When Curtis answered the phone, Croft tore into him. “What the hell were you thinking?” he blurted, growling into the phone.

  It caught the man off guard.

  “What?”

  “You didn't think to call me today when Emma found that body without the kneecaps in the desert?”

  Curtis was confused. “What body?” he asked, driving toward Brynn’s house. For a while today, he was thinking about heading back to Sky Villa to hang out with the people he loved. He was beginning to feel bad for deserting Emma when Greyson was all stirred up. Basically, he’d left her alone in the lion’s den. Yeah, there was so much guilt on that.

  Although, after hearing his boss, he was glad he wasn’t heading there.

  Croft told him about the call he got from Ford. When he finished, he waited for some sort of explanation. Curtis had better have a damn good one.

  “Uh, Grey, I was at the office all day. I had my paperwork and final testing before I get off probation. I told you about this last week. Remember? In fact, I cleared it with your secretary so you’d be aware of it.”

  Oh Shit!

  He did. Now he remembered.

  How had this slipped his mind?

  Oh, yeah, he knew. He was an idiot.

  When Curtis told him, he cleared his schedule to watch Emma all day. He was supposed to be on guard duty. “Oh, bloody hell! Curtis, I’m sorry I just bit your head off.”

  “Are you okay, Grey? You’ve been in a foul mood for weeks now. Do you need to talk? I can come home.”

  He sighed. God, how he wished he could sit down with the man who had become his family and tell him what was on his shoulders. Yet, he didn't want to burden him now too. It was his job to protect the ones he loved, and Curtis was just starting a new relationship.

  He deserved to have fun.

  Not be buried under his mess.

  “I’m okay. Again, I’m sorry that I just lost my temper for no reason.”

  Curtis Briggs had worked with Greyson for over two years. Never had he seen him in this bad of shape. Immediately, he began worrying about Emma. There was only one person on the planet who could mess with him this bad.

  It was his woman.

  “It’s okay, boss man. I’ll be back in the office tomorrow. I’ll get the detai
ls and report in as soon as I can,” he offered. Yeah, and warn Emma that her husband was a man on the edge.

  “Thanks, Curtis. I’ll talk to you then. Have a good night with Brynn.”

  When he hung up, he felt like shit. Here, he’d just been an asshole to his partner, jumping down his throat. Despite being angry with him because Curtis bailed on their friendship and brotherhood, there were lines that couldn’t be crossed.

  Today was going downhill fast!

  Croft needed to get home. He was going to sit Emma down and try to have a rational conversation about the entire thing. Hopefully, he could keep his cool.

  He really had no choice.

  His marriage hung in the balance. Greyson suspected that a wrong move would mean one thing.

  Divorce.

  * * *

  Sky Villa

  Wednesday Evening

  When she finally made it home, there was no sense of relief. The big, empty condominium offered no welcome. Even when Hairy, Greyson’s cat, curled in and out of her legs in greeting, she still felt alone.

  Normally, they’d meet at home, and she’d make them dinner. Afterwards, they would head to the couch and she’d play the piano for him. They’d laugh, make out, and have a night filled with passion.

  Now, she was alone with a cat.

  Yeah, this was going south.

  Heading to the kitchen, she stared inside the refrigerator. Instead of making dinner, one which no one would eat, she grabbed a bottle of wine. Emma wasn’t a big drinker, but there was no reason to waste her time with food. It seemed like the next best thing, especially since Greyson didn't tell her when he was coming home.

  IF he was coming home.

  Yeah, he’d called three times, but she was well aware why. This had nothing to do with a cozy night alone, and everything to do with the fight that was coming.

  By now, Max in the lab had notified him of the body. That meant that he was already stirred up over it. The three calls in a row, without leaving any voicemail, meant one thing.

  He was on the warpath and headed straight for her.

  Emma thought back to the first days in Celestia while they were working the case. She wanted to smile at the memories.

  How fiery they’d been.

  How passionate.

  How overprotective and loving Greyson had once been.

  But she couldn’t. It appeared the happy days had come and gone, and those fights were back. Emma didn't get it. She’d tried so damn hard to be everything he needed. Greyson was the big man in Vegas, and she’d been the dutiful wife.

  Putting him first.

  Loving him to death.

  Now, she was being shoved away.

  What was going to happen? Emma poured her wine and walked through the condominium to the couch. Stripping out of her suit jacket, she dropped down to wait for the oncoming storm.

  Maybe if she had a drink, or three, she could stay calm. Well, calm enough not to kick Greyson out. It was all coming to a head. She could feel it.

  Sipping her wine, she felt numb.

  The case was weighing on her, as was her husband and the tatters of their life. Someone once told her it was about perfect balance and not bringing work home with you at night.

  Maybe someone should have told him that.

  As Hairy jumped up on the couch, she ran her fingers through his fur. He purred, offering her sympathy.

  “Damn it! Even the cat knows I’m screwed. You feel sorry for me, don’t you furball?”

  As he continued purring, Emma continued drinking.

  It wasn’t long until she heard the key in the lock. Part of her prayed it was Dante or Curtis coming home. Maybe then, one of them could get Greyson to laugh.

  To take a deep breath.

  To stop damaging them with his silence.

  When she heard the angry footsteps heading her way across the tile, she knew that her luck was way past shitty. A set of mob remains, three dead women, and a blow out with her husband--could this day get any worse?

  Yep, today was a shit fest.

  “Emma!”

  She didn't reply. Instead, she coolly sipped her white wine. One of them had to stay calm, and it had to be her.

  It always had to be her.

  Yeah, she was resenting that too.

  “What the hell are you thinking?” he blurted. Gone was his calm. After calling Curtis, he’d told himself that he wouldn’t get mad, but here he was losing it.

  It was as if he was outside his body, watching this clusterfuck unfold. He was horrified by his actions, but his temper was driving this mood.

  “What?”

  “When were you going to call me?”

  “About?” she asked, getting up from the couch to get herself another glass of wine. While she didn't advocate drinking while fighting, it was all she had at the moment to stay calm.

  Emma could feel his eyes on her, even as he went toward the liquor cabinet to pour himself a bourbon.

  Yeah, this was going to get ugly.

  Croft and bourbon, plus temper, equaled a fight.

  Emma braced for it.

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe regarding the kneecap-less bones that you fished out of the desert, perhaps? You know, the ones that scream mob hit?”

  Yep, he was aware.

  So, it began.

  “Oh, was I supposed to call you? I seem to recall visiting your office a few weeks ago, only to be told that my job as liaison wasn’t important. That you’d call me if there was something on the horizon. I just figured the mighty Croft would summon me and let me know how to run my case. Max would clue you in, and then you could run this too.”

  He lifted a brow. “Well, someone has to share some common sense with you. There’s only one mob in Vegas, and his name is Dominic Marianna. You recall him, right? He’s the one who wants in my wife’s pants.”

  Emma stared at him, not even batting an eyelash.

  “I should have been your first call,” he declared. “The second that body was pulled out of the ground, you should have picked up your damn phone and let me know.”

  She sipped more wine. “Oh, should I have? So, what you’re telling me is communication is important.”

  “Yes!”

  “Maybe you should follow your own lectures, Greyson Croft. I’m sick of being your pupil.”

  He glared at her.

  “This could be a set up. You’re a detective and smart enough to know that.”

  Emma headed back toward the living room. At the piano, she rested her wine there. Greyson chugged his bourbon, and that was a cue of his impending explosion.

  “You know what kills me?”

  “Marianna, if you don’t watch your back,” he sniped sarcastically.

  “You’re funny. What really boggles my mind is how this got your attention, but as a smart man, you can’t see our marriage is just about over.”

  Emma saw the barb hit its mark.

  Oh, he was well aware of that too. She wasn’t the only one feeling it.

  He just didn't think she’d point it out.

  Kudos for her.

  Croft suddenly got sick to his stomach. This was his biggest fear. One day, he’d wake up, and Emma would see the truth.

  He was losing control.

  Croft was a hard man to love.

  She was better off without him.

  Instead of weeping for what they were on the precipice of losing, he went with more bourbon. It ignited his anger. There was no doubt who was to blame. It was him. He was a failure at marriage.

  A fucking failure.

  “I’m your husband. At one time, you would have told me about this. You would have come to me.”

  She agreed. “Once, I would have. Now, not so much. The rules have changed, Greyson. You put them into play, not me.”

  He could feel her pulling away.

  Oh God! Greyson was losing the only good thing in his life, and it was all his doing.

  Now, the downward spiral began.

&nb
sp; If he believed he was out of control before, he was wrong. This was the scariest freefall he’d ever experienced in his life. His gut had bottomed out, and there was a gaping hole in his heart where love once resided.

  “You should be smart enough to know you’re in danger. Curtis wasn’t there to keep you safe. I’d have dropped everything and rushed to you. I’ll do anything to protect my woman.”

  “I’m not a possession, Greyson. I’m also not a child who needs a babysitter. It’s getting old that I have to keep reminding everyone that I’m not helpless. I can take care of myself.”

  “Yeah, like when your brother was killed, or when you were abducted?”

  She gasped.

  Had he really gone there with Gage’s death?

  If this was an indicator, it was going to be far more horrible fight than she believed. Apparently, this was a no holds barred battle to the death.

  “Nice shot, Captain Croft. Aimed and fired like a true military sniper who takes no prisoners.”

  Her return barb stuck too.

  “You’re my woman.”

  “I’m very close to not being that,” she challenged. Emma was standing her ground. One of them had to be the voice of reason, and with the last few weeks, it was obviously not him.

  Even though she looked steadfast on the outside, Emma was scared shitless. She didn't want to lose him.

  Emma loved him with her whole heart.

  Here stood her sexy pirate. Now, she only needed to figure out how to get to him through all the ice.

  “Oh? You want to leave, Emma? Do you want to take your wedding rings off again and go?”

  Her heart pounded as she fought not to show any emotion. She kept repeating to herself just to breathe. If she stopped, she would break down and cry.

  “Then go. If being with me is that bad, then you’re free. Maybe it’s for the best. We both know I’m a bad choice and that you could do better.”

  His words hurt her for so many reasons. One, because he actually believed he was a mistake, and two, because he told her to leave.

  Like she was nothing to him.

  “You’re pushing me away, Greyson. You’re hurting what’s left of us,” Emma warned.