She releases me, taking a step away. “Fine. All right.”
I shut the door behind me, escaping into my room where I might be able to hear my own thoughts. Only the low rumble of voices coming from the main room steals that sanctuary.
It comes down to this—this moment. This choice. A lifetime of devotion to my work and morals and beliefs, all summed up to a broken man without a badge.
Divorced. No kids. Ulcer the size of a planet. Surrounded by colleagues who may or may not be as corrupt as the criminals I’ve sacrificed everything to hunt.
And now, wallowing in self-pity. I suppress a humorless laugh.
I drag myself over to the bed and flop down, rest my arm over my eyes. When I held Avery’s hand in the hospital all those nights, I vowed to protect her. Not because it was my job—because I saw the light I’d come to depend on from her snuffed out. No one has the right to take that away.
But they did. She’s changed because of that torment, and I’m not sure if any damn thing I do will ever bring it back.
I don’t fall asleep. I can’t. I lie here with a torrent of thoughts thrashing my brain until I hear the front door latch closed. But my muscles don’t relax until I hear the gentle rap on my bedroom door.
10
Bare
Avery
I’m not searching for love. That’s never been a desire of mine. I didn’t turn down every date and party invite in high school, sit home every weekend with my nose crammed in a book throughout college, just to throw away all that hard work now on a fantasy dreamed up by some desperate part of myself.
Yeah. That was a little harsh. Even for me. But I’m furious for allowing myself to fantasize about a future I can never have—not with the man behind this door.
So this thing with Quinn…I know it’s temporary. I might even be using him as a distraction from all the horror that’s sucked my life up into a dark cyclone of pain and cruelty.
And when I admit that—that my feelings for Quinn might only be as deep as this case, there’s only one outcome: Quinn will suffer the agony of my choices.
He’s already been suspended. His wife left him. His partner is a serial killer.
He’s discovering every person in his life isn’t what they seem. Especially me.
Despite it all, regardless if I should walk away, I’m selfish and crave just one more moment of comfort his touch brings.
It’s impossible to deny I’m falling in love.
Maybe for the first time.
It might be layering additional cruelty onto his burdens, but waiting any longer will only inflict more torture than I can bear for him. So I knock again, harder, and this time, the door opens.
He’s loosened his tie; it hangs open around his neck, his crisp white dress shirt unbuttoned at the top and rumpled from where he untucked it from his slacks. He might feel like a mess, but as he stands in the doorway, arm braced high on the door, he’s the steadfast strength I’ve anchored myself to.
“Can I come in?”
Without a word, he pulls the door open wider.
One dimly lit lamp welcomes me into the room as I enter. Quinn’s scent surrounds me; masculine and heady, like the metal headboard and clean angles of his room. I stare at the bed. A gray comforter is pulled tight across the mattress. Pillows lined neatly along the head.
I’m probably the filthiest thing to ever enter his room. I’m spoiling it just by standing here. I tuck my hands under my arms so I don’t mar anything with my touch.
“You should rest.” He nods to the pristinely made bed. “At least lay down for a while.”
I stay put. “I’m sorry about Carson.”
His sigh is heavy as he settles on the edge of the bed. Runs a hand through his hair. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
But for him, I know it is. Quinn’s ethics are important, and Carson let him down. We’re all letting him down. I risk a step closer. “I’m tired, Quinn.”