Page 9 of Erik

“You and I need to have a talk about boundaries, apparently, Erik. Let’s go outside.” His wasn’t a suggestion, and I frowned as I followed him out of Donald’s office and through the precinct. I felt like a kid following a teacher to the principal’s office, and the teacher was also the principal. That sensation was strange for a thirty-three-year-old, to say the least. Holding the door open for me, Carlyle gestured me out first, and he plucked a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket to spark one up. Leaning on the side of the building, I stuffed my hands in my pockets and huffed a white, crystalline breath as the cold stung my cheeks.

“I’ve had scuffles with your partner before.” Mumbling around his cigarette, Carlyle glanced at me through slits, and I inhaled deeply under the weight of his gaze. No wonder Remmy got the jeebies from him— there was something about him that just rubbed the wrong way. There was something in his eyes that spoke of unfathomable violence, and he carried himself like a guy that killed without remorse. “I can only imagine what you hoped to achieve by doing this, but I can guarantee you that you didn’t get what you wanted. All you did was crack open a little, lonely girl with the world on her shoulders, and she’s in the middle of losing her reason for living. If Natasha kills herself, will you be the guilty one, Erik?”

“Are you going to do anything to stop it?” Combatting his question with my own, I watched him take a deep drag of his cigarette and hold it. Smoke seeped out of Carlyle’s nose slowly, and he eventually shook his head.

“You know, it’s not really my problem, is it? I mean, sure, Valerie will be devastated, but people adapt to catastrophic changes over time. It might be horrible in the beginning, but I’ve done what I can. I don’t care about Natasha’s wellbeing beyond that.” His face was stone cold, not a trace of anything, and I couldn’t detect the lilt of a lie in his voice as he exhaled the rest of his lungful. “I didn’t expect you to dig in on this rookie-follower routine. You’re not some twenty-year-old with no experience, Erik. I’ve read your files,all of them, and I’ve got to say that I’m disappointed.”

Before I could even open my mouth, even form a question, Carlyle was talking again, and he sized me up standing just a few inches from me. Chest to chest, we were the same height, but he was a lot slenderer than I was.

Not that it really mattered as those emotionless eyes dug into mine.

“I’m taking your partner’s badge. I know that may not mean a lot to you because you’ve only been an officer for a few months but understand me perfectly clear. I’m not someone to mess with, and you made the mistake of attracting my attention. Your partner is an idiot with a glory complex, looking for things that aren’t there.” Carlyle’s tone could cut concrete, and I jerked my head in a curt nod before he stepped back. “By the way, Erik . . . did you ever consider that the bomb was meant for the person it was mailed to? From now on, do your own research. Don’t rely on word of mouth, and if you do, make sure to ask the right people.”

“Why are you here if you don’t care about her?” Carlyle paused, casting a furious glance as I ground my molars.

“This is my home, Erik. It might not be something you’re accustomed to, considering your background. I hate when people disrespect me in my home.” Tensing at the jibe, I couldn’t help but scowl when he scoffed at me with disdain blazing in his eyes. “Don’t follow your partner’s footsteps.”

“Wait.” Why couldn’t I just keep my big-ass mouth shut? Pursing my lips thinly, I cleared my throat roughly as shame threatened to close it. Carlyle’s expression twisted in irritation, and he tapped his foot impatiently. “What happened between you and Remmy?”

“Make sure you ask the right people theright questions.” He walked back inside, tossing his cigarette carelessly, and I exhaled a gust of a sigh that puffed out in front of me. Clutching my head between my arms, I silently cursed myself as the last few minutes raced through my head. This was exactly why I joined the Navy— I took orders much better than being left with my personal opinion.

“Shit . . . shit . . . ” Scuffing my heel, I jerked open the door to stalk into the main room of the precinct, and my eyelid twitched when I heard Remmy screaming in Donald’s office. Carlyle sat on my desk, his legs hanging off the back, and I made a beeline for the front door because, well, fuck all this drama.

I wasn’t going to stick around for a new partner.

“I should’ve known being a cop wasn’t for me.” I came from the SEALs, damnit, and being a cop was so . . . so objective. Good didn’t mean good, and bad didn’t mean bad. At least, in the military, I got my orders and didn’t have to think any more about it. I didn’t have to know who I was targeting, only that he was being targeted.

Natasha didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of crazy and stupid.

9

Erik

“Ah!”The pained hiss that seeped through the small cube sitting on the nightstand woke me from a troubled sleep, and I rolled over to stare at it through the gloom. Natasha kept the bug off during the day and turned it on at night, and her hurt sounds tormented me all the way to morning. I knew what this was. This was her getting back at me for poking my nose somewhere I shouldn’t have. This was her turning the tables on the privacy I had tried to wrest from her.

I couldn’t turn the damn thing off, either— no matter how much I wanted to, I just couldn’t press that tiny button on the back. After Remmy got fired two days before, I’d quit within the hour, and Donald hadn’t tried to get the equipment back. Maybe. He knew it was compromised. Maybe, he just wanted to forget the whole thing happened. I didn’t know, and I wasn’t going to slink back to that God-awful place to ask.

“Shit . . . ”The thick slur assaulted my ears, and a loud rustling emanated from the speaker the muffle harsh pants. Sitting up, my skin burned against the sheet that slid off my chest, and the coarse hairs there bristled. Goosebumps swept up my arm when I grabbed the device, and a little choked sound burst out of it. “I don’t know if you’re listening . . . if anyone ever really listens. Everything I say is being recorded, right? So it’s like a diary . . . ”

Natasha sucked up a sharp, shallow wheeze of breath, and I pulled my knee up to prop my elbow and hold my forehead in my palm. Grimacing as she laughed a hollow, sad noise and sniffled hard, I could picture her wiping her face when I blinked, her image blossoming through the darkness of my room.

“When you tell people things, they become real. Wait, no, delete that. That’s not how you’re supposed to start.”Exhaling a crackly sound only to sniff hard, she audibly flopped down, and I clenched my jaw as apprehension flooded my veins. “Dear diary . . . I never told anyone this because I didn’t want it to be real. It happened, and I got through it— that’s how I looked at it. I had no choice but to keep trudging because Valerie needed me. She doesn’t know any of this, either. I mean, of course, she knows the parts she was there for, but the rest . . . There’s so much more than just being sold off for drugs.”

“I guess it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that I have abandonment issues. I mean, it started when I was twelve, but my dad didn’t know about any of it because my mom hid it so well. They were going to have another baby, another set of twins, but she had a miscarriage. It’s not exactly that uncommon a story— they lose a baby and can’t recover. It’s pretty standard stuff.”Natasha’s voice stabilized as she spun her story, and I closed my eyes as she sniffled and chuffed a sigh. Every part of me was quiet, still, waiting for what came next, and a cold sweat dribbled down my back as my gut curdled with anxiety.“She hid her drug use really well until my dad witnessed a murder and decided that was a perfect time to escape. He went into witness protection and never came back, but we all thought he was dead. That set my mom off. She was bad before, but . . . ”

“I had just turned thirteen, and I was definitely a tough kid, tougher than Valerie. When my dad left, she was a huge wreck, and my mom just went off the deep end with the heroine. I guess she had an excuse, but she had two living kids that she just abandoned. At the same time, I lost everyone but Valerie, just bang, gone.”She clapped to punctuate her point, and I flinched as the sound rattled my brain. Even so, Natasha didn’t stop talking, and I wondered briefly if she knew I was listening, or hoped it, or just shot in the dark because she was desperate. “Things went downhill fast. My mom stopped paying bills, and the electricity went first. That was kinda cool, honestly. At first . . . It was Dallas, after all, so it didn’t get cold. But, then, it wasn’t so cool. My mom introduced me to her drug dealer when Valerie was at after-school, and he gave her rent money. Of course, she used it for drugs.”

Disgust coated my tongue when Natasha paused for what seemed like forever, and I held my breath as a bead of sweat trailed down my neck. She cleared her throat roughly, and my heart leaped into my throat when the crackling of an open microphone suddenly went silent. My eyes widened in shock, and I tightened my grip on the receiver as a particular kind of panic stained my chest.

“What the fuck . . . ” The slur rolled between my teeth thickly, and I dropped my head forward to groan in frustration. Natasha probably had an incredibly fucked up story, and Ineededto know it. Hauling my ass out of bed hastily, I stormed out of my bedroom to pace the length of the living room as my mind raced furiously.

Why did I even care about this so much? I could throw the stupid receiver away, delete the app from my phone, and pretend it never happened. Pausing to flop my head back, I blew out a hot sigh as my lungs threatened to squeeze my heart too hard. Natasha could ignore that this had ever happened like we’d never met, and I’d find a new job in fucking Cancun or something. We’d never have to see each other again. She could move on with her life, and I could continue trekking through the shit of my own.

Her face that night at CVS, when she smiled at me, flashed behind my lids when I blinked, and I scowled at the ceiling. I was responsible for this. I couldn’t just run away. I was the guy who ran toward danger . . . or I used to be. Rubbing my lower back with a clammy palm, I gazed down at the receiver in my free hand and ground my teeth hard.

“This is my fault.” Okay, not all the shit Natasha had been through, but her reaching her breaking point was entirely my doing. If I had just followed my gut and told Remmy to fuck off, I wouldn’t be dealing with this right now. Ever since Syria, I’d been second-guessing myself, and it had to stop. Just like then, people were in danger, and this time she was innocent.

“Ben . . . I wish you were around to tell me what the fuck I should do.” Leaning heavily on the back of the sofa, I sniffed hard as my murmur echoed in the large living room. My pension was enough to live on, but if I didn’t get a job, I’d probably go insane. I needed to go to the gym— working out always helped me think.