“I would have understood eventually.” Story still didn’t face him. “And a few more phone calls or e-mails per year wouldn’t have hurt either.”
“I know that and I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve tried to be involved…in other ways.”
“I guess I should thank you for the money you sent,” she said, feeling kind of numb. “I don’t think I have before.”
“Jesus, you don’t have to thank me. I was happy to do it.” His tone of voice made her turn from the window. “Your mother and I might not have worked out, but I would marry her all over again, deal with all the arguments, to get you. I just want you to know that.”
Her throat tightened. “Thanks, Dad.”
Jack cleared his throat, signaling an end to the conversation, and she felt grateful. Her emotions were on a permanent roller coaster today and it was time to get off.
“So how did you spend your night last night?”
Roller coaster stalled, hanging upside down. “Uh, my friend Hayden and I went out for drinks, did some karaoke at Quincy’s like you recommended. Nothing crazy.”
“Karaoke.” Jack cringed. “What a godawful pastime.”
Story laughed, glad the mood had shifted back to normal. “See, right now in the light of day, I can agree with you. But last night after a few drinks, it represented immortality.”
Jack adjusted the sensor clamped to his finger. “And what was the crowd like?”
“Oh…er,” she stammered. “Women. Tons of women.” I sound like a jackass.
“How unusual for Quincy’s.” He chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you had fun. Maybe someday you can introduce me to Hayden.”
“Sure.” She walked to Jack’s bedside, picked up the pitcher full of water, and poured some into a plastic cup. “But I’m warning you, she’ll want to be fixed up with one of your officers.”
“I’m sure we can manage that. Maybe Daniel Chase? I’m told he’s reasonably attractive.”
Story choked on the sip of water she’d just taken, a decent amount trickling out of her nose.
Jack sat up in concern. “Hey. Are you all right?”
She nodded, holding up a finger as she coughed. “Fine.” Hack, hack. “I’m good.” Jack reclined once more, watching her suspiciously as she crossed the room and sat back in the chair. “So, um, what’s it like working with Daniel? Is he good at working?”
Oh, real smooth, you silver-tongued devil.
“He’s the best. Besides me, of course.” Jack grinned. “I found him in a negotiation class. He already had the aptitude required for the job and I suppose his past is what gives him the drive.”
Story frowned. “His past?”
Her father looked suddenly uncomfortable. “It’s not really my business to tell.”
“Tell me,” she said, unable to help it.
“I trust you’ll be discreet.”
She nodded mutely.
“Daniel was a foster kid. His mother couldn’t take care of him so he became property of the state very young. He moved around a lot between foster homes.” Jack turned to stare out the window. “When he was sixteen, he witnessed the murder of a foster parent by his foster sister. He tried to talk her down and was shot for his efforts.” Jack paused for a wheezing breath. “Not everything is a matter of record, but from what little he told me, she was an abuse victim who suffered a mental break. He did succeed, at least, in getting her to release three other children being held in the room.” He thought for a moment. “Most people find hostage negotiation as a career, but in Daniel’s case, I’d say it found him.”
Story nearly burst into tears. What a horrific thing for a young boy to experience on top of being alone, without a family to claim him. Is that what his nightmare had been about last night? If so, how often did he have them? The pain mixed with alarm in his eyes when she’d succeeded in waking him now hurt to think about. Minutes ago, she’d thrown herself a pity party over Jack’s absence in her life. Now, knowing what Daniel had gone through made her feel selfish. She’d had a loving mother and advantages while he’d been given nothing.
“Oh, God.” She looked up to find Jack watching her closely. “What a horrible thing for him to go through so young.”
Jack snorted. “Yeah. I wouldn’t feel too bad for him, though. He’s just another jackass with a badge now.”
Story shot to her feet, feeling righteously indignant on Daniel’s behalf. “How can you say that? After everything you just told me he went through, look what he’s accomplished. He’s much more than that.”
Her father shrugged his big shoulders. “If you say so.”
“What…what was her name? The foster sister.” The words felt like they were being squeezed out of her throat.
Jack arched a blond brow at the odd question, but answered. “Nora, I believe.”
Oh, Daniel. She stood abruptly, in desperate need of something to do. “I forgot your coffee. I’m going to go grab us both a cup.”
“Extra sugar!” Jack hollered at her as she strode down the hall.
…
“You’re fucking late, Chase. Not all of us got laid last night, so I’m not exactly in the mood to wait for your pretty-boy ass,” Brent yelled out the window as Daniel jogged across the street toward his friend’s waiting car.
Daniel tossed his duffel bag into the trunk, closed it, and slid into the backseat. Meeting Brent’s eyes in the rearview mirror, he raised an impatient eyebrow. “We’ve still got plenty of time to make it, unless you feel the need to run your mouth some more.”
Brent shot a puzzled glance at Matt where he sat in the passenger seat. “You’re acting awfully surly after the night you must have had, my friend. Us two assholes went home alone.”
Daniel remained quiet, prompting Brent to turn around in his seat, his face a mask of disbelief. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t close that deal last night.”
His face turned to stone. “You don’t discuss her like that. She’s not a deal to close.”
With a slow whistle, Brent turned around and started the car. “Relax. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know, man. Sorry. I’ve just got a lot of shit on my mind.”
“Like what?” Matt asked.
Daniel’s hand dropped. “Hell if I know. This girl…she’s got me all…” He waved his hand around impatiently.
He watched Brent’s eyebrows shoot up in the rearview mirror. “Shit, she was that good?”
“Brent, knock it off or I swear to God—”
“Uh-oh.” Brent reached into the console and picked up his two-way radio, pretending to turn it on, then holding it up to his mouth. “This is car two-two-nine requesting backup. We’ve got an officer down. I repeat, officer down. Dispatch, please alert medical personnel that officer is whipped.”
“Please remind me why we’re friends.”
“Aw, you love me, you dick.”
Matt turned in the passenger seat to face him. “How does she feel about you?”
“That’s what has me kind of fucked up, all right? I have no idea. I usually don’t have to ask.” And he’d left before he could talk to her since she’d been sleeping. Warm and naked and delicious. Jesus.
Not to mention, on top of being completely unprepared with protection last night, he’d had a full-blown nightmare from which she’d needed to forcibly wake him. Then, just to round out the evening, he’d turned her around and screwed her brains out as if she didn’t deserve anything better from him. He’d given her hot, filthy, rebound sex. Plain and simple. Only, he didn’t like the idea of being a rebound to Story. In fact, he fucking hated it. A rebound could easily imply one night. And Christ, he needed to see her again.
He’d woken from the recurring dream as he usually did, mind reeling out of control. Unaware of his surroundings. But last night, his body had caught on long before his head could. The genuine concern on her face had only succeeded in disarming him further, her butterfly ki
sses on his belly and chest short-circuiting his brain. He’d hurtled himself at her before forming a coherent thought, using sex to regain the control he lacked in his dream. He’d planned on coaxing her to orgasm at least twice before allowing himself to push inside her. Sweet-talking her the whole way. But the damn dream had removed his filter, allowing every filthy thought in his mind to come pouring out.
If not for the fact that he’d satisfied her, he’d have already given up all hope of seeing her again. The way she’d screamed his name still echoed in his ears, making him crazed to hear it again. Loud enough for every man in the vicinity to hear it. He might be the one with experience, but she’d shown him last night everything he’d been missing. If he’d offended her with his language or roughness, he would find a way to make it up to her.
“Call her and talk to her. You can’t go into this training session with your mind somewhere else. That’s when accidents happen.”
“Oh Matt, I love it when you talk safety,” Brent said as they turned into the Lincoln Tunnel.
“Yeah, I’ll call her. When Brent isn’t sitting two feet away, taking notes.”
A snort from the driver’s seat. “I don’t need your tips.”
Matt raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, buddy. Hayden didn’t seem too impressed last night.”