“And I mean anything you would naturally do yourself,” I clarified.
“There she is,” he said, and grinned. “You’re coming back, beautiful. Fight for that, okay? You are amazing.”
I bit back a sob. “Stop it, Brock.”
He smiled again. “Okay. Love you, Mace.”
“Love you, too, Brock.”
“Come on, I’ll take you back to Payton. She’s gonna need a hug. I’ll tell Dallas to call you later.”
I nodded and followed him back into the building and up to my apartment.
* * *
Dallas
Six months later…
I dragged my ass into the office, having stayed up most of the night making notes on Macey’s file. I’d figured out pretty quickly that Brock hadn’t provided me with all the details, which didn’t surprise me, but still pissed me off. With no option other than to weed through the “redacted” file, I ended up with more questions than answers.
“You look like shit,” Bill, one of the older agents, said.
“Yeah, thanks Bill. Appreciate that.”
Bill chuckled. “Long night?”
I sat at my desk and pulled open one of my drawers. “Yeah. Finally went to bed around four.”
“Hot date?”
I snorted, biting back a yawn. “Paperwork.”
“Damn. Hate paperwork.”
“Don’t we all.”
“Bill! We gotta go,” Marvin, Bill’s partner, called from the front door.
“Take it easy,” Bill said, and left.
“If only I could,” I muttered to myself.
Once I found the file I was looking for, I headed straight to the evidence room, which just happened to be adjacent to the file room. Nita Long, a stunning black woman of just over thirty, who I classified as one of the “good ones,” ruled over all things paper as she liked to tell people. With Brock and Jaxon both out on assignment, I knew I had a few precious hours to get the information I needed before my partners came back and redirected me to keep me from the truth.
I bit back another yawn and sidled down the hall to where Nita sat at a large desk, fingers tapping away at her keyboard and her face strained in concentration. She glanced up at me and smiled. “No.”
“What? You don’t even know why I’m here,” I said.
“Why are you here?”
“I want to see the file on—”
“No,” Nita said, and focused back on her computer.
“Nita, come on. Help me out here.”
“I was given strict instructions not to let you anywhere near that file, Dallas Stone.”
“Nita.” I leaned across the counter and sighed. “My girl was hurt. She was almost killed. I am the best… no, the only person who can pick apart that file.”
“Gorgeous man, I hear you, but the answer is no.”
“She won’t let me in.”
Nita glanced up at me with a frown. “Come again?”
“Macey. She won’t let me in. I am banned from her life. Her heart. She won’t talk to me and she sure as hell won’t see me.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I need this, Neet. I need to do something to help.”
“She won’t talk to you?”
I shook my head.
“Poor thing.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “You know what she means to me. Please give me something here. I’m goin’ nuts.”
Nita pushed back in her chair and pulled open a drawer to her right. She set a manila folder on her desk and crossed her arms. “I really need a cup of coffee. I’m going to get said cup of coffee and I’ll be back in less than ten minutes with that cup of coffee. I sure hope that nothing is disturbed while I’m away.”
She moved from behind the desk and I hugged her. “Thanks. I owe you.”
“Mmm-hmm. Yes, you do.”
I watched her leave and then grabbed the file, stepping into the copy room. I had the copies I needed and the file back on Nita’s desk before she returned, but I hung around and waited for her.
“I see nothing was moved,” Nita said, and slipped the file back into her drawer.
“Thanks, babe.”
“Figure it out, Dallas, okay?”
I cocked my head. “You’ve read the file?”
She nodded. “It’s not right,” she whispered. “Brock insisted on keeping a paper file of everything and between you and me, he was right. Someone changed the electronic one. And it wasn’t Brock or Jaxon to keep you out of it.”
“What the hell?”
“Hold up,” she said, and grabbed her notepad, slipping into the copy room and returning with three pages of handwritten notes. “These are the changes. No one knows about them yet. I was going to tell Brock, but hadn’t gotten around to it.”
“Make another set of copies and then put the originals somewhere they can’t be found, Nita,” I said. “But definitely show Brock and Jaxon, yeah? Just don’t tell them you and I talked.”
She nodded.
“You’re a rock star, lady.”
Nita smiled. “And don’t you forget it.”
“Okay, I’ve got some work to do. Thanks again.” I headed to my desk and my phone buzzed in my pocket, so I pulled it out. “Hey, Brock.”
“Hey. Can’t meet tonight. Gotta help Dad with something.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, he bought a sofa off Craigslist and needs help moving it from the truck into the basement before the rain starts.”
“No worries,” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.”
Brock hung up and I walked out of the office and to my car, managing to avoid my boss. I headed back to my home and sat down to delve into the paperwork.
* * *
Three hours later, I was working on controlling my emotions… unsuccessfully. My heart constricted with a pain I’d never experienced before while looking through the crime-scene photos. I’d seen images like this before, but never ones that involved someone I loved, and sure as hell none that involved Macey.
I flipped over another photo. Blood. Macey’s blood covered the carpet. Torn pieces of her clothes were everywhere. The photos of her beaten and bloody body were also in the pile, but after seeing one, bile rose in the back of my throat and I dropped the photo and ran for the sink. A near empty whiskey bottle sat on the counter, and I grabbed it and chucked it against the wall. I had no idea the extent of the damage through the haze of tears, but the sound of shattering glass was surprisingly satisfying. After washing the sick out of my mouth and taking a minute to breathe, I went back to my task.
The autopsy report and photos on the perp didn’t gain me anything, as he didn’t seem to exist. He was labeled “John Doe,” and I wondered how a ghost could have committed such a violent crime. I had a hard time believing that this “John Doe” hadn’t done it before, so why hadn’t his DNA gotten a hit in CODIS? Nita was right. None of this made sense.
I decided looking at the photos was too much, so I put them aside and focused on Nita’s notes. Most of the changes could easily be dismissed as typos, but two discrepancies stuck out, and I realized quickly there were only a handful of people who would have had the authority to alter those details.
“Damn it,” I whispered, and grabbed my cell phone to dial Jaxon.
“Hey, Dal.”
“Hey, Jax. You alone?”
“Hold on,” Jaxon said, and I heard the click of a door in the background. “I’m good now. What’s up?”
“I need this to stay between us.”
“Okay,” Jaxon said carefully.
“Not over the phone.”
“I can be at your place in fifteen minutes.”
“That would be great,” I said, and hung up.
As promised, Jaxon arrived fifteen minutes later, and I let him in. “The file isn’t right.”
“The file,” Jaxon said. “What file?”
“Macey’s file,” I said. “Not the one you and Brock gave me.”
“Damn it,
Dallas.”
“Take a second to get it out, Jax, and then we’ll talk.”
“Who the hell gave you the file?”
“That’s not really important.”
“Okay, so Nita gave you the file.”
I sighed without confirmation. “There are a shit ton of discrepancies between your notes and what the computer said.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, the paper trail wasn’t shredded, and the electronic file’s been altered.”
“Shit,” he muttered. “What do you need me to do?”
“Not sure yet. There aren’t a whole lot of people who have access to change the records without notice.”
“Yeah. Okay, I’ll swing by here tomorrow after I stop in at the office and we can go through it. I won’t tell Brock.”
“Thanks.”
“No promises, Dallas. Set your expectations low. As far as everyone’s concerned, this case is closed. The guy was caught due to the fact Brock killed him. If we go sniffin’ around, it’ll draw focus. So we have to be careful.”
“I get it.”
“No, I don’t think you do,” Jaxon countered. “This isn’t going to be solved in a week, Dal. It could take a while.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Yeah, brother. I get it.”
“I have other shit I can be looking for, so it won’t ping if I’m in the records’ room.”
“Great,” I said, leading him to the door.
“See you tomorrow.”
I nodded, closing the door behind him. I then threw the file in the safe hidden in my closet.
I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Macey. She didn’t answer. She never did, but I didn’t care. Every day it was the same. I called her at least twice, morning and night, but today, I needed to hear her voice again, even if it was in the form of her voicemail message.
“You’ve reached Macey. I’m obviously doing something incredibly important like saving a life or washing my hair, so leave a message and I’ll call you back… and if this is Dallas, well, you know what to do.”
I loved this. Loved that she hadn’t changed it. I chose to take it as a sign that she might still love me just a little.
“Hey, baby. Just wanted to hear your voice. I love you. I’ll call you before I go to bed. ’Bye.” I hung up and headed to the shower.
* * *
Macey
I stared at my phone. I was surprised Dallas had called me again. I lived for his calls, but it was rare that he called in the middle of the day. I bit my lip. I hoped he was okay.
I waited until the voicemail dinged, and then dialed in.
“Hey, baby. Just wanted to hear your voice. I love you. I’ll call you before I go to bed. ’Bye.”
I saved the message and hugged the phone to my chest. If he ever actually listened to me and stopped trying to reach me, I’d die. I relied on his messages; they were what kept me sane, and proved he still loved me. They also drove home that I would never stop loving him. As long as I lived, he’d be it for me. Kissing the phone, I said a quick little prayer and then headed into the kitchen for wine.
Macey
Present Day…
I WALKED OUT of the hospital and to my car parked in the back. One more week finished, and I had three blissful days off. I loved the fact I could complete a work week in four days, giving me so much time to myself. Keeping my purse close, I gripped the pepper spray on my key chain, unlocked my door, and checked the back seat before sliding inside and locking the doors again.
Starting the car, I headed towards home. My phone rang as I pulled out of the parking lot. I answered it using my hands-free device. “Hello?”
“Hey, Mace.”
“Hi, Payton.” I glanced at the dashboard clock. “What are you doing calling me at almost midnight?”
Payton had been at her parents’ home watching her nieces all day and I was sure she’d have been comatose by now.
“I’m letting you know I’m not home,” Payton said. “Got caught up with something at Mom’s and didn’t want you to freak out.”
I stamped down the panic that flared up inside her. “Oh, okay. Thanks for letting me know.”
“I can come home now if you want to wait for me.”
“No, Pay. It’s fine. I’m so tired, I’ll probably just fall into bed.” I stopped at a red light.
“Are you sure?”
I shook my head, grateful Payton couldn’t see me. “Yep, it’s all good. You set the alarm, right?”
“I did. I walked the apartment twice, double-checked every window, and everything’s locked up tight. Trevor’s on duty tonight.”
“Oh, good. He’s the best. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Call me when you get home and I’ll stay on the line with you.”
I smiled. “I’m okay, Pay.”
“Well, at least text me.”
“I will.”
“Thanks. ‘Bye.”
“‘Bye, Payton.” I hung up and took a deep breath as I approached my home.
I realized with great disappointment that Dallas hadn’t called me that evening. He’d left his usual message in the morning, but nothing tonight, which made me worry. He could be on assignment, he could be hurt, he could be dead.
“Macey quit it,” I said out loud.
I pulled up to the gate of my parking garage and waved the key card over the reader. The gates slid open and I drove inside. Parking in my designated space, I climbed out of the car and locked it. I always got my phone ready to dial 9-1-1 whenever I left the safety of my vehicle, and I kept a finger on my pepper spray as I made my way to the elevator banks. Slipping into an open car, I hit the button to the lobby where I liked to talk to the security person before heading up to my apartment. The doors opened to reveal Dallas talking with Trevor, the night doorman.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
Dallas grinned. “Payton might have mentioned something to Brock about you being alone tonight.”
“Aren’t you working?” I asked.
“It’s my night off.”
I sighed and stared up at the drop-dead gorgeous man. His dark hair was a little longer than it had been in the past, and his face had a day’s growth covering his jawline.
“You didn’t need to come over,” I said.
He shrugged. “I wanted to.”
I caught Trevor grinning and smiled at him. “Hi, Trevor.”
Trevor Tupou was a Tongan expat and the size of a small building. He was a math teacher by day and worked as security a few nights a week for what he called “fun.”
“Hey, Macey. How are you this fine night?” Trevor asked.
“I’m good. You’re letting all the riff-raff in, apparently?”
Trevor chuckled. “Only the ones with guns.”
“Looks like he’s my watch dog for the night,” I said.
“I’ll relax then,” Trevor retorted.
I chuckled. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Ready?” I asked Dallas.
“Lead the way, beautiful.”
I forced myself not to let his words settle deep as I led him to the main elevators and into one of the cars. If I did, it would give me hope, and I wasn’t ready for hope. He constantly told me how beautiful I was and how much he loved me, even with the scars, but I couldn’t bring myself to believe that his words weren’t out of obligation.
Once at my floor, I made the short walk to my apartment, unlocked the door, and pushed inside. The beep of the alarm sounded, and I hit the code to disarm it as Dallas locked the door again.
“I’ll do a sweep, huh?” Dallas said.
“That would be great. Thanks.” My heart calmed immediately. As silly as it was to even worry about such things, considering the fact my apartment was on the seventh floor, with no possible entry into it without scaling equipment, his words put me at ease. Dallas headed to the back of the apartment and I walked into the kitchen.
“Do you want a beer?” I called.
“Nah. I’ll
just crash on your couch,” he said as he joined me. “All clear.”
“Thanks, Dal.”
He reached out to touch me, apparently thought better of it, and lowered his hand. He gave me a gentle smile and said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I nodded and headed back to my room. I dropped my purse on the chair by the bed and removed my scrubs, heading to the shower. Biting back tears of frustration as I climbed under the water, I counted to ten, then did a mental exercise to remind myself of the good things in my life. All tools my therapist gave me to help.
I forced my sadness aside. I still hadn’t given him the hug I’d discussed with Brock, but I hadn’t gone back on my word either. No other man had comforted me physically, and they wouldn’t. Not before Dallas. But since I didn’t believe we would ever have that again, I had to move forward. I couldn’t dwell in what could have been. It did me no good.
I turned off the water, dried off, and pulled on pajamas before climbing into bed. Hearing Dallas moving around in the other room was both comforting and saddening at the same time. I chose to dwell on the comfort and, with the knowledge that I was safe, I was confident that sleep would come quickly. “Goodnight,” I called.
“Night, honey,” he called back.
* * *
Dallas
In the living room, I pulled off my boots and stretched out on Macey’s sofa. Dragging my hands down my face, I knew I’d have a tough time sleeping with her so close, but I’d deal. I’d done this before. Slept in her living room when Payton was gone. And I knew I’d do it again. We were making our way back to each other. Slowly, but it was happening, and I’d wait as long as it took.
I’d almost fallen asleep when her blood-curdling scream had me off the couch within seconds and rushing to her door. It was locked. “Damn it.”
She continued to scream, and I was forced to do something I knew would bite me in the ass in the morning. I broke down the door and switched on the light on in her room. Macey was thrashing in the middle of her bed, screaming ‘no’ at the top of her lungs. Her long, dark red hair still damp from her shower stuck to her face as she turned her head from side to side, living her nightmare out physically.
When she screamed, “Dallas,” I didn’t think, just reacted and wrapped my arms around her, earning myself nails down my face as she fought him. I pulled her hands away and held them above her head. “Mace. Babe, it’s me. It’s Dallas. Wake up, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
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