Page 4 of Trees Take the Long View

"I need to find out if you need something, and if there's anything the S&P can do to make your life better." He took a breath, girding himself to add, "And yes, I'm supposed to find out if you might be willing to re-partner someday. But not to pressure you, I can promise that."

Just tempt me with everything I can never have.

"All right. You've asked, you've offered. So can we set that off to the side now and just eat?"

"Sure. Your answer's no, then? You don't need or want anything?" He tried to look into my eyes, to study me and plumb my depths. I tried not to let him.

"I don't want anything from the S&P. And I don't want another partner."

"I can understand that. I gotta say, we usually vet people better than that."

"Do you?" I looked at his eyes then, and wished I hadn't. "Because I gotta say, a lot of folks in the program seemed pretty much the same as Lightner. At the time I thought they were just go-getters, not—" Bullies. Criminals who hid behind the badge. Assholes who laughed about what they could get away with, abused their power and privilege. Serve and protect, my ass...

I couldn't say more, wished I hadn't agreed to dinner. What, so he could wine and dine me and make me relive it all? "I don't want to be here." The food had turned to ashes in my mouth. I rose abruptly, almost knocking the chair back. It scraped loudly, making other patrons look over at me askance. My heart started to pound. Now I really, really didn't want to be here.

I didn't belong in a restaurant like this. I didn't want to—to—

He rose as well. "Let me pay. Can you wait in the car while I do that?"

I nodded once, and strode out, giving one jerk by the doorway a hard stare when he kept looking at me. He looked away, finally—first. He had what I thought of as a neo-Nazi haircut, and I wasn't in the mood to be generous and assume that was just a fashion choice and not a personal statement of assholishness.

I climbed into the passenger seat and tried not to feel like a child who was pouting. I should be able to handle a simple restaurant visit. I could've, even at a fancy place like that, if I hadn't had to go over everything again.

I closed my eyes, crossing my arms tightly over my chest, and leaned back, trying to steady my shallow breathing. Images flashed through my mind. My partner, the man I'd trusted, becoming a monster before my eyes. Hadn't changed, not really. I'd just finally seen...

I would never trust a cop again. It hadn't been me who suffered. It had been a civilian who, even if he'd maybe needed to be arrested, hadn't needed to be injured on purpose in the process. I'd testified against my own partner, as hard as that was, because I knew it was wrong. He shouldn't be able to get away with that, but he had. A three-day suspension (with pay) was his travesty of a punishment. Not even a slap on the wrist.

I hadn't been able to keep working with him, and when the S&P people offered to help me find a different partner to replace him, needless to say, I'd refused. I'd become more of a loner since then, not wanting to trust anyone new. I'd thought I was starting to settle into my new life, even if I still felt off-balance and not very hungry, even if I seemed to drift a lot of the time, more than I should. I'd thought I was getting there. But here it was, all back again.

Lightner thought I was a traitor. Like he should be able to do anything he wanted since he was a police officer, and I should back him up, because I was his partner. But I remembered the face of the man my partner had hurt, the lost teeth and blood in his mouth, the misery and defeat in his eyes. He hadn't been surprised; I had. It had taken me too long to step in, I was so lost in shock. But even when I had, it hadn't really fixed anything. The guy still spent days in jail before he was released. The department hadn't paid his medical bills or offered him an apology. They just wanted him to disappear and count himself lucky he hadn't been killed.

I couldn't live with that then, and I was still struggling now.

What happened to being the good guys? I wanted to be a good guy.

Dean emerged from the restaurant, walking confidently, two bags in his hands, a smile on his face. I tried not to notice the way he walked; failed. I even liked that. He looked so confident, sexy, and just a bit sassy, as if he knew he was amazing and couldn't quite hide it.

"I got the leftovers," he said, swinging into the car and handing me the bags, a triumphant look about him.

"Congratulations," I said dryly. But I couldn't help opening the bags and taking a sniff. The food smelled more pungent and tasty in here than it had in the restaurant, for some reason. Maybe because my every move wasn't being watched. This was a smaller space, contained, and maybe that made the smell of meat seem more pronounced. Or maybe it just felt safer in here, safe to finally notice food.

"Sorry about that," he added, as he started the engine. He seemed like it hadn't upset him. I felt oddly torn about that: he ought to care. But at the same time, it was nice not to be judged for my little meltdown.

Maybe he took it in stride because he didn't expect anything better from wolves. Maybe he was used to dealing with basket cases worse than I was. That thought gave me the sharp, bitter tang of jealousy. I didn't want him hanging around other wolves. And no, I didn't want to think about what that meant for me. I really, really didn't.

"I'll drive you home, if you'll tell me where you live."

I hesitated. Still wasn't sure I wanted to tell him about the tent.

Maybe he took my hesitation for something else—like not wanting to say goodbye to him yet—because he added, "I'd really like it if you showed me your feral fruit trees, though. Never seen anything like that before."

I took a piece of the steak between my fingers, and ate it slowly. I'd cut it up before leaving the restaurant. It was cold now, but it tasted good—really good—wonderful, in fact, mixed as it was with the background scent of soft, warm hay.

"Okay," I said. "I'll be your tour guide to the delights of the forest."

He grinned.

"But I'm going as a wolf." He needed to see how strong I really was—not too skinny, not pathetic. Strong. A wolf who could protect a mate, for instance.