Page 18 of Carry On

“You fucked around and found out, kid,” I retorted. “He may have messed up your face, but I’m going to destroy your life. You have twelve minutes now to decide.”

I left without another word, giving them a chance to talk it over and make their decision.

It took them two minutes to cave and drop all charges against Nash, which was honestly longer than it should’ve taken. I stood on the far side of the precinct in a doorway with my hands shoved in my pockets and my chest uncomfortably tight while I waited for Nash to be let go. I could’ve left him there, let him figure it out on his own, but I planned to take that man home with me. I planned to help him.

Was it my best idea? Probably not. But he needed a place to stay for the night, a hot meal, and some kind of comfort in knowing he didn’t have to struggle for the night.

It felt like the right thing to do. While I hoped that he’d go along with it, I had a feeling I was about to get in a fight with the man over my willingness to help him.

“It’s been a while, Lincoln.”

That voice.

Fuck.

The tension in my chest increased while my anxiety spiked. I didn’t say a word. I refused to give him the time of day—to even look athim.

Detective Chris Graham. My ex-husband.

He was also the entire reason why I never came to this precinct. I avoided it like the fucking plague. The less contact I had with him, the better.

The scent of his heavy cologne washed over me, making my stomach roll, as he crossed in front of me. One hand braced on the doorframe while he blocked my view. Dark eyes, windswept short hair, a clean face. Once upon a time, I’d found the man attractive. Now, he just made my skin crawl.

“You can’t ignore me,” Chris said.

I absolutely could. I took one long step to the side and kept my gaze firmly across the precinct floor.

“Oh, come on, pretty girl,” he crooned, keeping his voice soft. Try as I might, I couldn’t hide the visible cringe the demeaning pet name gave me. No matter how many times I had asked him to stop calling me it, he had never listened. It was just one more way for him to assert control. “There you are. Got your attention now, don’t I?”

Deep breaths. I could get through this without losing my shit or making a scene. It wouldn’t do me any good anyway.

“What’re you doing here, Lincoln?” he asked, pressing the situation. “Come on, now. You can’t step into my precinct and think I won’t find out you’re here.”

“I’m just picking up my client.” I drew in a sharp breath as I opened a door between us that I shouldn’t have. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“See?” he drawled. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

If only he knew.

Across the room, Nash shook the hand of an officer while he collected his stuff. Chris crossed his arms and joined me in staring at my client. The sound he made was off-putting.

“If you wanted to see me, pretty girl, all you had to do was call,” he said. “You didn’t have to scrape the bottom of the barrel for some piece of shit homeless guy to represent. I would’ve answered your call.”

“Shut up,” I snapped before I could stop myself. I didn’t back down from most fights, but I’d run from fighting with him every fucking time.

“What was that?” The change in his mood was instant as his tone darkened, sending a rush of anxiety through my body. He rotated and blocked my view. “Is there something you want to say, Lincoln?”

I held my tongue because while I absolutely wanted to say something, I wouldn’t. Not here. Not now. Not ever. Talking never helped when dealing with him. It hadn’t in the past, and it wouldn’t now. It’d just make it worse. I’d learned that lesson the hard way a few too many times.

“I’m not asking again,” he warned. I pressed my lips together tightly and began running through ways to handle the situation.

A loud cough made him turn. Nash stood there, looking utterly unimpressed. I didn’t need rescuing, but I was grateful for the intervention.

“Sorry, but I need to talk to my lawyer,” Nash said.

“Right,” I murmured. I gestured toward the exit, all too ready to get out of there. “Let’s go.”

“We’ll talk soon, Lincoln,” Chris called after us.