The doctor looked at me over the rim of her stylish glasses and sighed. She was frustrated with me. It was obvious. I wanted to tell her to join the club. Dom was also over my pity party and mountains of regret about what had happened to him. He flat-out told me to get lost and not come back until my head was screwed on right. He was sick of me moping around, and done with the constant apologies racing off my tongue. He kept telling me shit happened and I just needed to deal with it. Then he lectured me for an hour on how stupid it was to purposely place myself in bed with a known criminal. He didn’t want to hear at all that being with Asa was the only thing that made all the bad things churning in my gut settle down.
He took all my focus, all my energy, every single bit of emotion I had to keep up with him. He switched so quick from charming and flirty to challenging and brutally honest that if I didn’t stay on my toes I would miss all the little hints that slipped through his artfully constructed mask. But I had seen enough, peeked at the naked core of who Asa Cross really was, and I had figured a few things out. One of the most important realities I had come to terms with was that he wasn’t lying when he claimed to be a bad man. He might not actively be hurting anyone anymore or doing anything to break the law, but it was there bold and brilliant every time he warned me away from him … danger lurked under the surface, and not too far down. He was a guy that had done bad things and was convinced that he would continue to do bad things. Maybe he was right. Another thing I was certain of was that it didn’t matter to me. Good or bad and anything he might be in the middle, I was drawn to him, attracted to him, fascinated by him in ways no one had ever pulled at me before. I saw enough kindness in him, enough drive to be a better person and live a better life now that he had something to lose, and because of this, the threat of the badness wasn’t enough to keep me away. In fact it drew me to him. I liked the bad in him even if I was starting to understand that he hated it and that it made him not like himself very much.
The shrink leaned forward on her fancy leather chair, put her elbow on her knee, and propped her chin on her hand as she stared pointedly at me.
“Do you think you’re a good police officer, Royal?”
I was slumped back on her requisite leather couch but her question had my spine snapping straight. “I always wanted to be a cop.”
She just stared at me until I shifted uneasily under her probing gaze. “That’s not what I asked. We’re supposed to be talking about you, about why you can’t sleep, about why you can’t accept that what happened on that callout could’ve happened to any set of partners on patrol. But all I hear from you is, Dom is this, Dom said that, Dom did this … to hear it from you, your partner runs the show and you just follow along like his sidekick. That’s not what makes a good police officer, and it definitely isn’t enough for a bright, talented young woman like yourself. Have you even considered what happens if Dom doesn’t get medically cleared to return? Is your very promising future over just because his is in question?”
I gasped involuntarily and squeezed my eyes shut. That was my worst fear. How could I carry on if I was the reason Dom might not be able to return to his dream job? I felt my hands curl into fists as I whispered to her, “I can’t answer that.”
She sighed again and I forced my eyes open just as she was sitting back in her chair. “You need to. If you’re just going through the motions because this isn’t what you really want to do, then you run the risk of putting not only yourself in danger but whoever is out there on the streets with you as well. You need to figure out if being a cop is what you’re supposed to be or if you were just living Dominic’s dream with him instead of having your own. Getting through the academy takes dedication and perseverance, so I know that a part of you really wants to be on the force, but this is a dangerous job that requires all of you.”
I felt scalding-hot tears start to burn at the back of my eyes. I bit down on the very tip of my tongue to keep them at bay. Apparently the feel-good part of therapy was over and now it was time for real talk. I really wanted to call the woman some immature names and get up and storm out of the office, but I couldn’t do that if I wanted to keep my job … which I did … didn’t I?
“I’m not going to put anyone else at risk.” My voice sounded broken.
“You can’t predict that. All you can do is go out and do your job, use your best judgment, rely on your training and your fellow officers to keep you safe. Which is exactly what you did the night Officer Voss got injured. I have looked at your jacket, Royal. I can answer the question for you …” She lifted an eyebrow at me. “Yes. Yes, you are a good cop. A very good cop, and yes, the margin for error in your job is minuscule, but errors do happen. If you can’t accept that, then this isn’t the job for you.”
Luckily I saw her look down at the elegant watch on her wrist indicating the hour was up. It was my turn to sigh in relief. I got to my feet and reached out for my hat, which was part of my patrol uniform. She stuck her hand out to shake like she always did, only this time she gave my hand a little squeeze.
“Next week we really need to address why you can’t sleep. Those bags under your eyes make you look like a perp got in a lucky shot.”
Great; not only was I mentally a mess, but I looked like crap as well. I just nodded absently and hauled ass out of her office.
The night I spent with Asa at his terrible little apartment was the most sleep I had gotten in over a month. It was only a few hours and I was worn out from the seriously intense sex. Still, the dreams had left me alone, making the anxiety that was crawling along my insides take a backseat to all the other exhilarating and complicated things he made me feel. I hadn’t stopped by the Bar or called him in over a week. I didn’t really know what to say to him or how to approach him after our intense night together. I understood he thought I was just after him for a thrill, that I was just trying to let off steam and play around with something that should be forbidden, but that wasn’t the case. I more than wanted him. I was pretty sure I needed him and I was pretty sure he needed me, too. As much as his life had changed, as much as he had changed, he needed someone he could let the leash off with. I wasn’t scared of the Asa that lurked behind the veil. In fact I craved him. I wanted to be a safe place for him, but given my career choice, I didn’t know if that was even a possibility.
The shrink’s office was in LoDo and the police station was up in Capitol Hill, so I had to drive. If it wasn’t winter I would’ve just walked, since the station was so close to the Victorian, but it was cold and I didn’t want to be late. My new partner was pretty laid-back, a rock-steady cop, but he was a huge stickler about punctuality. I was just getting out into the midday traffic and humming along to One Direction on the radio when my phone rang from where I’d tossed it on the passenger’s seat. I loved some Justin Timberlake and I loved that when he sang to me it meant my mom was calling me. She seemed to have an uncanny ability to know right when I was on the brink and at my most raw. She was checking up on me and I needed her to after that visit with the shrink. My mother had always just accepted me for whatever and whoever I was. She had never pushed, never tried to guide me one way or the other, and I kind of needed that cushion after that soul-stripping session with the psychiatrist.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Royal! I haven’t talked to you in forever. How are you? How is Dominic doing?”
Forever was only four or five days, but she liked to keep tabs on me. I grumbled a little, fished my sunglasses out of the cup holder, and slapped them on my face. “I’ve been busy. Sorry I didn’t call. Going back to work as well as adjusting to a new partner has been keeping me on my toes, and Dom is fine. He’s going stir-crazy and I think he’s lost about twenty pounds of muscle and gained five pounds of facial hair. His sisters are taking good care of him.”
She made a high-pitched noise of sympathy and I could almost see her clutching her throat in a dramatic way. My mom was nothing if not over-the-top.
“That’s wonderful news that you’re
settling back in work, honey. What’s the new partner like? Is he handsome?”
Ultimately, as much as she loved me, that was what it always came down to with my mom, a man. She never would understand how I was okay being single. How finding someone to be with had never been a priority for me like it had been for her.
“He’s married.”
“So?”
I groaned out loud. “Mom, that right there is why you have to keep a divorce attorney on retainer. Married is off-limits.” Sometimes I felt like I was talking to someone my own age and not a grown-ass woman that should know better. If she had simply followed the rules in the first place, she wouldn’t have ever thought my father was going to leave his wife and kids for us.
She laughed a little. “I think married and happily married are two different things. Besides, I haven’t been fishing in that river for some time and you know it.”
She didn’t need to remind me. Her last catch had been a wealthy real-estate magnate that believed in true love and had been foolish enough not to make my mother sign a prenup. After a quickie wedding and an even quicker divorce, my mom was rolling in the greenbacks and dating young studs that were closer to my age than her own. She had drifted firmly into cougar territory, and in her typical careless fashion didn’t care about how that made her look or how it might make me feel. Sometimes I wondered if she was acting so outlandishly just for the attention. I couldn’t see her as much or spend as much time with her now that I was working full-time and had actually gone out in the world and made a friend or two. My mother didn’t do well when she was lonely.
“With you I never know.” I never wanted her near a married man again.
“So with the new partner being off-limits, I don’t suppose you’re out there meeting anyone. You know I worry that you’re going to end up all alone and not find anyone to make me beautiful grandchildren with.”
I swore at her and she laughed. “Mom, seriously?”
“I mean it. You aren’t getting any younger and your job is very dangerous, young lady. You need to find a husband before you get old or injured. I want you to be happy and have what I never did.”
“You know you’re crazy, right?” I didn’t need a man to be happy, not that I would run the other way if a certain blond sex god suddenly declared his undying love for me, but still I had plenty of time to worry about stuff like forever after. She would never understand that, though.
“That isn’t how you should talk to your mother.”
I groaned again and pulled into the parking lot for the police station. I settled my hat on my head and looked at myself in the rearview mirror. The shrink was right. I looked like I had twin black eyes and my pallor was straight-up waxy and gross.
“There’s this guy.” I was going to regret telling her anything, I just knew it. “He’s different. I like him a lot but he makes it hard.” He really did. Having feelings for someone shouldn’t feel like so much of a battle.
She squealed loudly and I had to hold the phone away from my ear. “What’s he like? What’s he do? Does he come from money?”
I made sure I had my keys and everything I was going to need before hopping out of the SUV and slamming the door shut behind me with more force than necessary.
“He’s tricky and smart. He’s prettier than me and he knows it. He’s charming when he wants to be. He’s southern and—” She cut me off before I could tell her that he also had the most wonderful whiskey-colored eyes, which were richer than all the money in the world, and that he was a bartender.
“Ohhhhh … southern boys are the best. All they need to do is say your name with that drawl and it’s love. Maybe he comes from old money.”
Who said things like that in this day and age? I rolled my eyes and pulled open the front doors of the station. “Mom, I’m at work, so I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Love you. Stay safe.”
“Love you, too.”
I waved to Barrett as I walked in. I still had to put my vest on and grab my radio and utility belt from my locker. It took a few minutes to get ready to go and Barrett was already out in our patrol car when I was finished. I grabbed some coffee and made my way to where he was waiting. He never really cared who drove, which was a major change from riding with Dom. My best friend always wanted to be behind the wheel and I never argued. The shrink’s words about being Dom’s sidekick sort of slammed into my brain and rattled loudly around. I didn’t like the truth that was obviously embedded in them, and it made me quiet and surly for the entire first part of our shift.
Barrett was mellow, liked to talk about his wife and his kids. He was a third-generation cop and had aspirations of making sergeant soon. He had enough years on the force and his record was spotless, so I was pretty sure his goal was entirely reachable. It was actually similar to listening to Dom talk about his future; the passion was there, and the drive, which made me wonder if I sounded the same when I talked about my future on the force.
We had an early dinner since we were working swing shift, which was two in the afternoon until ten or midnight depending on how the shift went. Scarfing down burgers and shoving fries into our faces got interrupted by a call about domestic violence from dispatch. We were by far the closest unit to the address, so we ditched dinner and rolled out. So far, since I’d been teamed up with Barrett, we hadn’t really had any kind of call that made my nerves ratchet up or my doubts grab hold. But domestic violence calls were so unpredictable that I was starting to sweat and breathe a little harder than normal.
The call was for a neighborhood that was on Colfax up past Colorado. Not quite into Five Points but close enough that it made my skin feel all tingly and had all my senses going on high alert.
Apparently the neighbors had called because the couple could be heard screaming through the walls of the apartment complex they lived in. Sadly, most people try to stay out of it when private business between couples explodes in violence, but apparently this neighbor was concerned because the couple was known to have two small children in the home. Along with raised voices and rattling walls, they had reported hearing the sound of stuff breaking. Barrett and I were going to be the first on the scene for sure and we had no idea what we were walking into. We didn’t know if there were weapons involved, if the kids were on site, nothing. All that uncertainty bubbled in my blood and made me hyperaware of all of my surroundings. Backup was on its way, but according to the dispatcher, they were a solid ten to fifteen minutes out.
I led the way up the stairs. Again thinking that it was weird to be in the front. Out of habit I typically let Dom go into any situation first, maybe because I had been following behind him my entire life, just like the shrink said. I couldn’t get distracted with thoughts like that, though, not with the distinct sounds of breaking glass and screams echoing clearly from one of the units. I shot an apprehensive look at Barrett over my shoulder and he just shrugged. It was all part of the job.
I knocked sharply on the door and all noise from inside ceased. No one came to answer right away, so I pounded again and hollered, “Denver police! We got a complaint about the noise.”
I heard shuffling from the other side of the doorway and felt Barrett tense with alertness next to me. The door creaked open and a man peeked his eye out to look at me. His eyes dropped to my badge, then to what my badge was sitting above, and I saw his gaze widen. It was a reaction I was used to.
“We didn’t call the cops.” His voice sounded shaky and I heard a female voice from inside the apartment scream at him, calling him a cheating bastard.
I lifted my eyebrows at him. “No, you didn’t, but your neighbors did. They complained about the screaming and said it sounded like WWE Raw had moved in upstairs. They also mentioned you have kids, and you must know carrying on like that in front of them isn’t okay.”
The woman’s voice from inside ratcheted up in volume, and behind the man I heard glass shatter. He looked over his shoulder and winced.
“The kids are
with my folks. Carla and I are just having a little disagreement is all. It got out of hand. We’ll tone it down, I swear.”
“Disagreement! You cheating asshole! I caught you in bed with my sister!”
Yowza. It sounded like the woman had a right to be furious with him. I would probably want to break all his stuff, too.
“Look, we just need to make sure everyone calms down and be sure no one is hurt.” We also needed to make sure the kids really weren’t in the middle of this shit show.
“Look, Officer …” His gaze skated across my chest again, and I felt Barrett stiffen next to me. I was used to this kind of reaction, so I just brushed it off and kept my eyes glued to the guy. “… Hastings. Carla is a passionate woman. We’ll work it all out and be back to making babies in no time. There’s no need for you to …” He trailed off on a curse as the door suddenly fell open and he tumbled out into the entryway at my feet. A big, wooden-handled steak knife was sticking out of his shoulder and a tiny woman stood a few feet away looking down at where he had fallen with unbridled fury and hatred in her eyes. This must be the notorious Carla.
Her free hand was bloody and in her other one she had a much larger knife. It looked like she had raided the kitchen while we were talking to her cheating spouse.
As calm as could be, she pointed the knife in my direction and told me, “I’m going to cut his balls off.”
I blinked because she couldn’t be serious, but then realized she actually was as she started to advance to where Barrett was taking care of the injured man. He had already called for medical and was looking up at me with huge eyes while he tended to the victim.
I couldn’t look away from Carla. I popped open the strap that held my gun in its spot and pulled out the Taser we were all armed with to use in situations like this.
“Carla, you know I can’t let you do that.” I kept my voice steady and refused to move as she inched closer and closer.
“He’s a rat bastard.” She was shaking all over and her fury was almost palpable. “My sister! My own goddamn sister! How could they do this to me?”
Asa (Marked Men #6) Page 11