Devoted

by Tess Oliver

  She seems somewhat proud of the fact, but she's not thinking clearly yet. "Exactly," I say. "He could have killed you. He should have killed me but he didn't. And I think that had way more to do with his feelings for you than having an ounce of compassion."

  Ten starts rubbing her arms. Whenever the topic of Freestone or Lace Underground comes up, it seems to stir what she calls her invisible army of ants. I take hold of her wrists to stop her. She stares down at my grasp on her wrists. Her breaths come in short, fast bursts and a pink blush covers her skin.

  She lifts her face. "Let's fuck," she says quietly.

  "What?"

  "Let's fuck right now."

  I release my hold on her. "Ten," I start but she shakes her head not wanting to hear my excuses.

  "Never mind. Can't blame you." Her laugh is weedy and dry. "Who wants to fuck a human skeleton who is so on edge she can't stop scratching her skin?"

  "Ten, that's not it." She pushes away my hand when I reach for her.

  "When do I pack up? Wish I had some shorts and a bathing suit. Maybe we can swing by my place on the way."

  "Ten, stop and listen for a second."

  She ignores me and walks to the closet.

  "Ten."

  "Really, Maddox. I was only kidding about fucking. Just drop it."

  I stomp over and slap the closet door out of her hand and shut. She looks up at me in surprise.

  "Listen. There is one big hole in our plan. How do I get you out of here?"

  "I could just make a run for it," she suggests.

  "Yep. That should earn you a locked door and by locked I mean from the outside. Different plan, other than the obvious. I'll go back to the precinct and see if Clark can pull some strings. But no promises."

  Ten reaches to hug me but backs off. It feels like a slap in the face.

  "Ten," I try and restart the conversation about the earlier awkward moment but she cuts me off.

  "Hurry back to the precinct, would ya? I don't want to spend a moment longer in this room." She avoids eye contact with me as she speaks. It's clear it's bothering her as much as me, but I decide to drop it for now. She's not ready to tread in those waters yet. I'm sure as hell not ready either.

  For now, I need to focus on getting her out of rehab before she climbs the walls, literally.

  5

  Angie

  "Well, what do you think?" Maddox asks from behind.

  I stare out at the unobstructed view of the Pacific Ocean. There are gray slate cliffs at one end of the cove and an outcropping of rocks on the other. It's a small curl of paradise. "I guess like they say—one man's hovel is another man's castle. Or in this case—woman's. A very grateful woman. Thank you so much for this, Maddox. I can even forgive you for taking a whole damn week to free me from that place."

  "Anything for my partner." He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear, leaving me slightly breathless from the quick gesture.

  I can feel the smile on my face, a sensation that has only just returned since my days in rehab. Withdrawals from Kane's drug seemed to make every nerve in my body ten times more sensitive. I felt every nurse's pinprick, every sharp stomach cramp, every throbbing ache in my temples, but the simple sensation of a smile on my face was numbed. Now that most of the hard stuff is over, the reverse is slowly happening. It helps take away the edge. I am more relaxed, but the frenzied nerves and hyper moods are being replaced by a deep, relentless melancholy. The depression that has taken hold brings me back to the terrible days following my dad's death. After his accident, I was alone in a black shroud of guilt. I could never bring myself to confess to my mom or brothers that my last words to Dad were 'I hate you'. They were dealing with their own grief, normal sadness and that sense of overwhelming loss. But I dealt with my own special form of despair, one that was stained by guilt. I never found my way out from under the weight of that remorse. I had no one to commiserate with, no one who'd experienced the same pain. There was no other awful person like me to sympathize with. My brothers hadn't ruthlessly yelled out 'I hate you, Dad' before he drove off to his death. Only I had that horrid privilege. I spent many of my rebellious and brooding teenage years dealing with all the shit that gets thrown at you in the teen's world. At the same time I was trying to figure out how I'd ever change what happened that day. I knew it was impossible but occasionally, I hoped that if I thought about it hard enough I'd somehow let my dad know how much I wanted to erase what I said. But there is no way to erase the past. It was a brutal reality I learned at fourteen and one I've learned again at twenty-five. And once again, it seems I'm dealing with something huge and dark and life changing and I have no one to commiserate with. Maddox has been by my side through all of it, but just like with my family, I can't talk to him about any of the deep stuff. Just like my family, Maddox is the last person I want to talk to about it. I've never felt so close and at the same time so distant from anyone as Maddox.

  Silvana walks in through the sliding glass door, bringing with him the rich scent of the ocean. It's a refreshing mixture of salt and the special odor that only the ocean can produce. Considering my last nightmarish trip on salt water, it should give me pause. But I can't stop taking deep breaths. After being underground in a controlled environment, I was taken immediately to a stuffy hospital and from there to the rehab facility, more controlled environments. The latter two smelled of sterile implements, chemicals and sanitizing solution. Not exactly great for a homecoming. The real earth smelled much better.

  Silvana closes the glass door.

  "Leave it open," I say. "I want every beach scent to permeate this little house.

  Silvana looks to Maddox for approval. I roll my eyes. He opens the door again. A breeze whips through the opening fluttering the fishing magazines on the coffee table. The house is tiny and decorated exactly how I'd expect. There are fishing tackle boxes piled up in one corner of the living room. The wall is covered with pictures of Uncle Nate holding up his prize catches. I stare closer at one picture and wipe away the dust collecting on the glass. "Uncle Nate has your smile." I turn to Maddox.

  "I'm pretty sure he's got top and bottom dentures, so thanks. Although, according to my mom, Nate was quite the ladies' man."

  "I guess when he didn't smell like fish," Silvana says with a laugh.

  "Good one, Sil." I nod my approval. "You've lost some weight, Silvana."

  Silvana lifts his shoulders high to thin out more. "Glad you noticed. I mean it's nothing compared to your weight loss but—" His face turns a radish red. "Shit, that was a stupid thing to say. I'm sorry, Ten."

  I hold out my arms. "Sorry about what, Sil? I'm a walking stick figure. Anyone can see that." His confidence has been shot to hell by all the other assholes in the department for the simple reason that he is not an asshole. I hate that about the precinct. And Maddox has been a part of the problem. Only it seems he's coming around on that. "Seriously, Silvana, you look good. It seems partnering with this jerk has been good for you." My comment earns a big smile.

  "Thanks, Ten. I've been working out and avoiding burritos. At his majesty's request." He inclines his head toward Maddox.

  "Not just my request but the entire Environmental Protection Agency." Maddox walks to the refrigerator and looks inside. "Just what I thought. It's filled with my uncle's diabetic shakes." He shuts the refrigerator. "We need to fill the kitchen with edible food before Clark comes here to check this place out. Otherwise, it'll be my head sitting on a platter in that fridge."

  Silvana pulls out his keys. "Say no more. Filling a refrigerator just happens to be a specialty of mine." He points at me as he heads to the door. "Healthy or unhealthy?" he asks.

  I tilt my head. "You're asking the woman who likes to sandwich her grilled cheese between the leftover glazed donuts in the break room."

  "Right. Heavy on the unhealthy."

  "But get some fruit and vegetables too," Maddox adds as Silvana walks out.

  "Bananas," I call. "Nothing green unless it's guacamole."


  I turn back. Maddox is wearing a stern brow.

  I laugh. "Oh my gosh, my mom has that exact same expression. And guacamole is a vegetable. No one can tell me otherwise."

  Maddox is still watching me as I walk to stand in the open doorway and let the breeze flutter my hair and loose t-shirt. "You're not planning to keep this close an eye on me are you?" I ask. "Could get kind of creepy."

  "Nah, I promise no creepy stalking. It's just nice to see you smile. It seems like you've been kind of down these past few days."

  "Sort of different from last week's Antsy Nancy, I guess." Just talking about my depressed mood changes my tone. It's devoid of Angie's spark. It's a little bit of overly serene Tawny coming back to haunt me.

  Maddox walks across the creaky floor and stands behind me. I can feel the heat of him on my back. His warmth contrasts nicely with the cool ocean air brushing against me. A breath catches in my throat as he unexpectedly wraps his arms around me, bringing me closer to him. But I don't melt back against him. My reaction is far stiffer than I would have predicted. Six months ago, if James Maddox had walked up behind and wrapped his arms around me, I would have spun around and started ripping my clothes off. I would have slammed my mouth against his for that kiss I'd been dreaming about forever. But the timing is off. I'm not sure if it'll ever be on again. Too much has happened to me. Maddox knows so many of the gritty details, I'm not sure I can ever get past the shame. And I know him too well. He hasn't come to grips with any of it either. With all the crazy ass times we spent together doing our job, staking out drug dealers, raiding crack houses, watching each other's backs, it seems we picked the absolute worst time to finally admit our feelings to each other.

  Maddox quickly senses the awkwardness of his gesture and drops his arms. I step outside onto the crumbling cement patio. Maddox follows. A thick silence falls between us, a rarity. Two seagulls are strutting along the railroad ties Uncle Nate has set out as a makeshift border for his property. One is holding an empty hamburger wrapper. The second bird is very jealous.

  "Birds," I say quietly but it sounds extra loud after the silence. "I didn't miss birds but now that I think about it, I should have. I should have missed them." I squint up at the sky. "And clouds. Why the hell did I not miss clouds and the breeze?"

  Maddox doesn't respond. He waits and listens. He knows that's what I need right now. I don't really need an explanation as to why I didn't miss obvious things while I was underground. I just need to question how the hell I lost myself so quickly once I got down there. How did I lose control so fast?

  The lack of muscles and fat on my bones makes me perpetually cold. I curl my arms around myself as I stare out at the white crests rolling into shore. "I thought I was tough. I was Angie Tennyson, the girl who didn't cry when she fell off the neighbor’s brick wall and broke her arm in two places. No tears. Growing up, that was a big rule in our house." A tear falls the second I say it. "I convinced myself I was strong and resilient. Tough enough to stand up to anything. But I crumpled like a frail daisy the second he took control of me."

  Maddox's body grows rigid with tension next to me. I can sense it without even looking at him. But maybe he needs to hear it as much as I need to say it. If we both try and gloss over it, pretend it was no big deal, then we'll never close the obvious, deep chasm that has split the ground between us.

  "I liked it." It takes all my energy and will to spit out the three words. "I liked the moments of submission. I liked not having to be tough, take charge Angie for awhile. I didn't even mind the tears for a change."

  I find the courage to turn to him. His face is smooth. His green eyes are unreadable as he absorbs everything I just said. He doesn't respond.

  "Let's go back inside. I'm cold," I say.

  I walk past him. He stays outside alone for a few minutes longer. A tartan plaid throw blanket is draped over the back of the sofa. I pick it up. My arms are so weak, even a wool blanket feels heavy. I drape it over my shoulders and sit on the couch. My body is always riddled with fatigue. The move today has zapped me of every ounce of energy. The last few moments of confession haven't helped either.

  Maddox is standing with his hands in his pockets. His broad shoulders are taut but slightly less confident than usual. His hair has gotten longer and more wild, most likely a result of Tiffany no longer telling him to cut it. I know well enough that the story of Tiffany dumping him was a lie. The woman dancing around the police station showing everyone the ring Maddox gave her would not have suddenly broken the engagement a few weeks later.

  The cozy warmth of the wool throw and the exhaustion in my body make me drowsy. I'm still watching him, Maddox, as he stands out on the beach. My last thought before I doze off is—I wonder if he regrets his decision to come after me.

  6

  Angie

  The sound of the front door and Silvana's cheery tone wake me from a deep sleep. I stretch my feet out only to discover that my legs are on Maddox's lap.

  Maddox looks up from his phone. "You were out cold, lady." His hand rests on the leg of my jeans. Suddenly I wish I was wearing shorts so I could feel his warm, callused palm on my skin. "I'm glad you got some sleep."

  Silvana marches into the room beaming with pride at the box of Hostess cupcakes he's holding. "I hope you like these because they were having a two for one sale." He taps his temple. "And I quickly calculated that if I bought three boxes, I could get three for free."

  I pull my legs off of Maddox's lap, throw off the blanket and sit up. "You wonderful shopping guru. Toss me one."

  Silvana rips open the box and tosses me two individually wrapped cupcakes. "Two for one, remember?" He returns to the tiny kitchen to put away the groceries.

  "You're right. That requires me to eat two in one sitting." I rip open the package and catch another eye roll from my partner.

  "What?" I say as I chomp down my first bite. "I'll balance it by eating a banana for dessert."

  "Ten, the doctor released you with stern warnings that I needed to make sure you ate well and got plenty of sleep."

  I cover my mouth to stifle a laugh and avoid spitting cupcake. "Mother hen does not look good on you, Maddox. It doesn't work with all that hot manliness. Besides, I just took a long nap."

  "It wasn't that long."

  "I'm an adult. I don't need you to look after me." The second I say it, his eyes flicker with hurt. He stands up from the couch.

  "Don't be mad, Maddox." I smile up at him hoping to jostle him with some humor. "That never gets old." My jostling fails.

  "I've got to make some calls."

  As he walks past, I reach up and take hold of his hand. "I just don't want you to feel responsible for me, Maddox."

  "No? I thought that's what good partners do." He pulls his hand away and heads outside to make his calls.

  For the longest time, we could finish each other's sentences, practically read each other's minds. We were always on the same page. Now, it seems I never know the right thing to say, and he never knows the right way to respond.

  I carry the second cupcake into the kitchen and drop it into the box. "I'm not proud to admit this, but it seems, for the time being, one cupcake is my limit. These are my favorites though. Gluey, plastic preservative packed treats that they are."

  "It's the nostalgia. It adds to the enjoyment," Silvana says as he straightens from the refrigerator. His cheeks are wind burned from the beach air. "At least that's what it is for me. Whenever I was going to have a math test or my mom knew I was having a tough time making friends at school, she'd stick a Hostess cupcake into my lunch. I'd get to the lunch room feeling miserable and sad. Then I'd open that lunch box. It was like that yippee feeling you get on Christmas morning. That's why I still love them. And I still save the thick patch of icing for last. It's like eating the crummy vegetables first so you can savor the delicious mashed potatoes and gravy last."

  "My mom stuck cupcakes in every once in awhile too. You're right, it was like finding Christma
s morning in your lunch box." I take a box of cereal out of the bag. "I think you and I would have been friends in school, Silvana."

  His round apple cheeks flatten some. "Nah, you would have been with the cool kids. I was never on that side of the lunch room. Far from it." It's rare to see Silvana frown. That alone should give him the coolest kid status in any school or precinct.

  "Hey, Sil, I'm sorry the guys rib you and joke around so much at the station. I guess it's because you're so damn good-natured about everything."

  Silvana glances through the glass door at Maddox, who is still on the phone. He smiles but it's taking more effort than usual. "You've always treated me with kindness and respect, Ten. I want you to know that I really appreciate it."

  His unexpected words cause a lump in my throat.

  "And I think some of that has rubbed off on your partner," he says. "My partner too, I guess. For now. Until you're back on your feet."

  I lean forward and kiss his cheek. "It's not that I've rubbed off on Maddox. It's that you've rubbed off on him. You're a good person and a good detective and he sees that. You earned that respect all on your own."

  "Thanks, Ten."

  I reach into the grocery bag and pull out a bag of barbecue potato chips. "And you have earned my respect as the premier shopper of all time. Barbecue are my favorite."

  "I know. I've seen your vending machine habits. Let me just say, on behalf of junk food junkies everywhere, well done, you."

  I take a bow before popping open the bag. I lean against the counter and snack on a few chips. My stomach has still not recuperated from the long weeks without much solid food. I've found small portions are all I can handle.

  Silvana finishes filling the refrigerator and folds up the paper bag. I offer him some chips. He reaches inside the bag for a handful and leans on the counter next to me. Maddox is still on the phone. The glass door is shut, but Silvana still lowers his voice.