by C. A. Szarek
Get some roses and sparkling cider. Prep everything so they had time before heading to the airport.
She’d given him her extra key that morning, because she hadn’t been sure when she was going to get in, but she’d promised to leave the office by four at the latest. That would give them about four hours to be together before his flight.
“All right then, do you have any questions for me?”
Nate shook his head. “I think you’ve answered everything, but thank you.”
Malcuri smiled. “Perfect. Let me show you where your office will be, and introduce you to the assistant the lead prosecutors share. Gina works for three—now four, including you—but she’s fantastic. But you’ll have your own paralegal, Angie. She’s great, too.”
“Great, thank you.”
Meeting the two ladies turned into a whirlwind tour of the whole office, and his new boss introduced Nate to a few co-workers as well. The bunch seemed tight-knit, but welcoming to the new kid on the block.
Hope first impressions are right this time.
Coming onboard as a lead might chafe if someone else had interviewed for Nate’s new job.
Malcuri walked him to the elevators when they were done. The man offered him another shake. “Congrats, young man. I’m looking forward to working with you. Tell Dean I said hello.”
“Thank you, and I will.”
“See you in a few weeks.”
“That’s the plan.” Nate smiled, his heart tripping as he stepped onto the elevator.
He grabbed his phone. First text was to Pete to shout he’d got the job. When his phone indicated it was sent, he went back to the menu and stared at Lee’s name in his message menu.
Holding back his news was hard. She had yet to answer any of his messages, but she’d probably just been really busy at work. Hell, her cell could even be on silent.
Nate pictured her smiling face in his mind as he exited the building to hail a cab.
Here goes everything.
* * * *
“I want you to take some time off.” Liv’s voice was as even as always, but the touch of concern in her light brown eyes made Lee’s blood boil.
“I’m good. Don’t need it.” Her cell phone chimed and Lee ignored it. If her boss heard it, she didn’t react.
“I disagree.” This was harder. Liv leant forward, both elbows on her desk. Her short blonde bob didn’t move at all. The cut made her look younger than her fifty-plus years, and Liv was still gorgeous. Looked younger than her age, anyway.
The woman had been that shade of blonde since Lee had worked for her, and she didn’t have the guts to ask if it was from a bottle.
Special Agent Olivia Barnes had been in the FBI for over twenty years, and she didn’t pull any punches. She wouldn’t have risen in the ranks if she had.
“Given what happened with Stewart, I also want you to have at least three sessions with Dr Doran.”
Aww, shit. “I don’t need a shrink, Liv.”
“Nothing personal, Lee. Standard procedure for the whole unit.”
“Then why’re we having a little one-on-one?” Lee ordered herself not to glare.
Don’t make the boss think you’re crazy.
Liv narrowed her eyes. “Because I thought it was for the best.”
Translation—I’m the boss and I said so.
Lee reclined in the chair and sighed. Planned a hundred different ways to kill her partner if he was the one who’d initiated this little pep talk. “How much time are we talking?”
“At least a week.”
Fuck. “No way. Two days.”
“No way. Keep it up and it’s two weeks.”
“Am I suspended or something?”
Liz steepled her hands and cocked her head to one side. “Nope. You have almost two hundred vacation hours. You need to use some.”
“I really don’t.”
“This isn’t a negotiation, Special Agent Selena Dawson.”
Damn, title and full name? I’m screwed.
“This is the part where I point out how many leads I’ve personally tracked down. All the hours I’ve worked, and how many assholes I’ve put away. How many little girls I’ve saved.”
“Precisely.”
Lee paused. “Those were supposed to be positive points.”
“Oh, they were. I’ve never questioned your dedication. You’re my go-to for the hard stuff. I know you work your ass off. But that also highlights how badly you need a break.”
“Liv—”
“Do you need to go to a meeting?”
Whatever she’d been planning on saying dissolved.
Lee stared at her boss, her heart pounding. Liv was always blunt. But calling her out like that? “No.” She clenched her jaw until pain shot into her teeth.
For some fucking reason, she wanted to cry. Lee blinked and ignored how her gut tightened. She squared her shoulders, sitting taller in the chair.
Her boss stared for minutes that seemed like hours. “Okay.”
Lee refused to sigh in relief. Reason battled with feeling insulted, but she respected Liv too much to let that tumble out of her mouth. She was the shit, not her boss. “You win.”
If Liv was surprised, or felt some sense of accomplishment, she hid it well. She offered a nod. “All right.”
A part of Lee was pissed that Olivia Barnes always let one come to whatever conclusion she wanted one to do so on their own. Conceding sucked.
“I’ll take tomorrow off, then the rest of the week.”
“Not starting tomorrow. The rest of today. Keep going.”
Lee groaned. “I’m coming back Tuesday. That’s five working days.”
“No weekends or sneaking emails.”
“Shit.”
A ghost of a smile played at her boss’s lips. “I promise the office won’t collapse.”
“That’s not the point.”
I might collapse. If I have work, I can’t think of Nate…
For about the hundredth time in the last two hours, emotion threatened to bowl her over. Lee’s eyes burned. She averted her gaze and fought the urge to suck in air.
“All right, Dawson. Get out of my office. Don’t pass go, or collect two hundred dollars. Get your ass home. See you next week.”
Lee forced herself to meet Liv’s eyes. She cleared her throat. “One thing. Downs talk to you?”
Her boss shook her head. “No. Why?”
“Hmmm, no reason.” So she couldn’t kill her partner, but she still didn’t like this shit. Barnes wasn’t a liar, and she wouldn’t have covered for Clint if he had brought his concerns to her.
Damn, for being away from the office with Nate for weeks, Lee was pretty damn transparent if her boss was kicking her out in less than forty-eight hours of being back.
Then again, they’d had a sit down like this one last month. At that time, Liv had ordered Lee to take it easy. That time she hadn’t been exiled or sent to Shrinkville.
Had things snowballed?
I’m fine.
Right?
“See you next week,” Lee muttered.
To Clint’s credit, he didn’t bat an eye or rub it in her face when she told him she was leaving for the day… For the week. He just nodded, told her he had things covered, and turned back to the report he was writing. Even tossed a “Take it easy” over his shoulder as Lee left their office.
By the time she made it to the Charger, her whole body was already trembling. Her hand shook so badly she missed putting the key in the ignition—twice.
That was when the water works started. Lee cursed herself to hell and back. Bumped her head into the steering wheel a dozen times before the pain in her forehead made her stop. She couldn’t see she was crying so hard.
God, you’re weak. A pussy. A wimp. Can’t handle anything.
Images of Jeremy Stewart popped into her head. The look on his face, in his eyes when he’d begged her to listen to his dying declaration. The way he’d faded…becoming sallow, grey. Then hi
s eyes had slipped closed for the last time.
Died in my arms.
She shivered in the driver’s seat of her duty car. Rubbed her arms up and down her bomber, but it didn’t warm her.
Right, ‘cause losing Nate isn’t enough. You need more reasons to feel like a crazy loser.
Lee crushed her eyes shut and made tight fists, but the tears wouldn’t stop.
Everything whirled in her head, a chaos she couldn’t shut out. Her throat burned, begging for alcohol.
Something. Anything.
She needed to shut it all out.
Jerry’s Fine Spirits.
The place was two blocks from her apartment.
Lee would go there first.
Her conscience reminded her not to blow it. That a drink wasn’t going to fix shit—it never had. She ignored her do-gooder side and the statement that started out as a whisper in the back of her mind.
Go to a meeting.
What happened to being honest with herself? She’d been so good at it over the last two years of recovery.
Go to a meeting.
She’d moved past feeling weak when she’d needed to seek the relief of AA when the urge to drink was overwhelming—or so she’d thought.
Since coming to New York, she’d held her crap together. Gone to work, played when she’d needed it—with guys like the cop Kowalski, no commitment. Hadn’t even thought about drinking for the most part.
She’d even managed to forget about Nate—sorta—after their first affair.
Nate.
Lee could call him. Tell him how she was feeling.
Wouldn’t even have to explain why she’d ignored his texts all day. He wouldn’t push her. He’d hold her, listen to her. Wipe her tears if she cried. Whisper that it would be okay.
No.
He didn’t know about her past. The loss and the drinking. Why blindside him on his last day in New York?
New loss hit when she thought of losing Nate, too.
Grief. Sorrow. It all rose from her gut and seared her.
She closed her eyes, but all she could see were Jeremy Stewart and Nate. Then Russ and Dylan entwined with them in her mind, making her thoughts a bevy of havoc that left her whole body a mass of nerve endings on fire. White-hot pain caved her chest in.
Tears still flowed, but she swallowed against the rising bile in her throat and started the car.
Drove out of the garage. Away from work.
Away from the stability she needed.
Lee looped around the block three times before she had the balls to pull into the parking lot. Jerry’s Fine Spirits flashed in a pattern of three different neon colours on the front of the stand-alone building.
Beckoning. Daring.
Do it.
Don’t do it.
Go to a meeting.
Get a drink.
One little shot will help, not hurt.
No. Go to a meeting.
Have a drink. Then two, then three. Everything will melt away.
Like a demented comic strip, Lee pictured an angel and a devil on each of her shoulders, battling it out, whispering what she wanted to hear in one ear, and what she should heed in the other.
She craved the numbness of intoxication.
Wind whipped her hair and burned her damp cheeks. Lee wiped her eyes, giving a test sniffle and ordering her tears to go to hell.
Leave me alone.
Staring at the doorway that would release all her inner demons again, she shifted on her feet, embracing the cold of the winter day and forcing air into her lungs. It scorched her dry throat like a bitch, but unlike the debilitating pain of memories, this was good.
Focus.
She put one foot in front of the other, following a guy in a Carhartt jacket. She let him go into the store first. The little bell jingling as he entered jolted her, but she continued to look inside the window as though it was a Macy’s Christmas display.
Signs for every brand of beer, wine and hard liquor fought for her attention as if they were shouting her name, but she already knew what she was buying.
Lee had always been a Jack girl.
Fuck it.
Sucking in one last fortifying breath, she paid her shaking fingers no attention and opened the liquor store’s door.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Lee?” His verbal call went ignored just like all the text messages for the entire morning.
Her car was in the vast garage attached to her building, so she had to be home. She wasn’t supposed to be back yet—he’d wanted everything to be perfect.
It’s only a quarter after one, why’s she home?
He tried to tell himself it didn’t matter, that they could prepare the meal together. Have an early dinner and spend the day, instead of mere hours together. Nate wanted to make love to her at least once more before getting on that plane.
But why didn’t she answer my texts? Why won’t she answer me now?
She was avoiding him and it made his blood boil, especially after what had been the perfection of last night.
Bags of groceries swamped his hands, but he managed to close the door to her apartment. He dropped the key and his burden onto the kitchen counter.
Nate carefully took the dozen red roses from one of the sacks and unwrapped them from their cellophane shroud. They weren’t from a florist, but for grocery store roses they were still pretty. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. He inhaled the light scent and smiled.
They’ll do.
Lee didn’t have a vase, but he hoped she liked his efforts. Wasn’t even sure if she was into flowers, but if he got even one smile, it’d be reward enough.
He couldn’t wait to tell her his news. Nate was bouncing in his cowboy boots like a kindergartener.
The speech was planned. He’d tell her he’d got a job, a place to live, and that he loved her.
No pressure.
He’d have to emphasise that aspect and pray it was enough to keep her from freaking. Pulling away from him…crushing him.
Then he’d have to grit his teeth and admit he knew about her past. Adequately explain how much it didn’t matter.
Could she love him someday? Could he ask? His heart tripped and he reached for confidence with both hands. He needed to picture walking into a courtroom with a well-prepared argument. Usually he prosecuted. With Lee? Nate would have to defend.
“Angel, are you here?”
He hadn’t been able to pick between homemade pizza and beef enchiladas, so he was going to let Lee select their meal, since she was home. It’d be fun to make either of the labour-intensive meals with her.
If she picked pizza, he’d have an excuse to have his arms around her, rolling the dough.
Hmmm, maybe I won’t tell her I bought stuff for enchiladas.
He rounded the corner into the small living room.
Saw the bottle of whisky first.
Nate’s whole body flushed and he froze. His pulse pounded in his temples and he made two fists to keep his hands from shaking. Blinked twice, but the scene before him didn’t change. It wasn’t a dream—scratch that—horrible nightmare.
Real. It’s real.
Lee sat on the couch, head in her hands. The shot glass next to her poison was full of amber liquid.
His heart skipped then plummeted into his twisted stomach like a brick. “How many, Lee?” Nate barked.
Her shoulders caved in, but she wouldn’t look at him.
Silence descended. It was as thick as the mortar in his veins, and as palpable as if a wall was actually between them.
“Lee—” he croaked, her name forced out as his throat started to close.
“How long have you known?” His love’s voice was low, but had a deadly edge. Lee’s posture belied the rage he knew was just under the surface.
The anger he’d always seen in her gaze. She hid it so well, wrapped in the anguish she never showed the world. The constant humour was a cover she projected well. If he didn
’t know her. If he didn’t love her. It would’ve fooled him, too.
Guilt rose up and bit him. “Lee, I—”
“How fucking long, Nate?”
Nate stepped farther into the room, but she put her palm up.
She still wouldn’t look at him.
A tremor shot down his spine and he felt her slipping from him.
She was never really mine anyway. No matter how I tried to convince myself.
Now she never would be. Words dissolved on his tongue.
How many times had he wanted to bring up her past? Then she’d smile or laugh at something he’d said.
Happiness.
Lee wrapped him in it all the time. His greatest hope was that she’d felt the same way being with him.
He swallowed hard. Nothing he said was going to cut it.
“I asked you a fucking question, Counsellor.”
“After you left Texas.” Nate was on autopilot.
Lee’s dark gaze finally met his. She was as cold as ice.
He stared and locked his jaw to keep from showing any emotion. The look on her face ripped him in two.
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to know everything about the woman I lo—”
“Don’t fucking say it.” She made a cutting gesture with her hand. “I told you before I couldn’t take it. Now I sure as hell can’t. It won’t fix shit. You have some nerve, doncha?”
“Nerve?” Anger flipped his gut and he glued his fists to his sides. “Me?”
“You had no right.”
“Maybe I didn’t. But you have no right to throw my feelings in my face, either.”
Lee laughed. The bitterness rolled over him and Nate blew out a breath as his chest constricted. His knees started to shake, so he locked them. Tried to square his shoulders and failed.
“Just get out.”
“Excuse me?” His words cracked.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out.”
Nate swallowed against the lump in his throat. It was either that or stand in front of her and cry like a ball-less wonder. He gripped his anger with both hands and locked the hurt in a vault. “I can leave now. If I never come back, it won’t change a damn thing, Selena Dawson. You stay here, drink yourself to death. Hell, get in a car again and get yourself killed. Which is what you wanted in the first place, wasn’t it? Doesn’t matter to me. You’ll still be alone for the rest of your fucking life. Stay cold and heartless. Add the drunk back in. It seems to work well for you.”
