by C. A. Szarek
She said nothing, but she didn’t back down, either. Carrigan squared her shoulders and stood taller. She glared up at him.
If he didn’t hate her ever-loving guts he would’ve admired her. Just a little.
“I did what I needed to do,” Carrigan said finally.
Jared clenched his jaw until pain shot into his teeth. He planted tight fists at his sides so he wouldn’t hit her.
He’d never wanted to hit a female in his life.
“Jer.” Cole’s voice. Close. His partner had a hand on his right biceps. The grip was tight, but not painful. “Let’s head to the hospital. Crowley’s going to take over the scene. Neil and his team are on the way. Chloe is too.”
Shit.
Chief would be next. As soon as he heard what happened. He’d make scene. Then, most likely, head to the hospital.
And Jared would be fucked.
He didn’t budge for a moment. He couldn’t.
Carrigan’s hazel gaze was unwavering on his face and Jared wanted to scream at her. There was no apology in those eyes.
Doesn’t she know how wrong she is?
“Jared. Let’s. Go.” Cole’s order was reinforced as the pressure on his upper arm increased.
Jared nodded and his partner released him. But instead of turning to follow Lucas, he intentionally towered over the FBI agent. Stuck his index finger in Carrigan’s face.
She didn’t even flinch.
“If he dies, I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mel wiped her face. “You’re being ridiculous. Stop it.”
Since when do you know me well enough to make that assessment? His words played on a loop in her head. Like a recording stuck on play.
He was right.
She didn’t know him well.
It didn’t matter.
Mel still loved him.
But don’t we know each other?
No, it hadn’t been very long. However, the time they’d spent together, laughed together, ate and talked together, made love. It counted for something, didn’t it?
She’d known him enough to recognize something was wrong tonight. Her gut had seen it. Her heart had, too.
When a new tear rolled down her cheek, Mel growled.
“What’s your problem? What he said wasn’t even that bad!”
David had told her worse. Much worse. Things about her body Mel hadn’t even admitted to Val. Her best friend would’ve killed him.
Jared had been stressed and rightly so, if that phone call was any indication.
God, I hope he’s okay.
Her heart took a dive to her stomach.
Antioch wasn’t the big city. It was affluent and mostly safe, but bad stuff happened everywhere, right?
Mel gulped and said a few prayers.
He’d hurt her for the first time, but she didn’t want anything bad to happen to him. Couldn’t fathom it. Wouldn’t get over it.
“But I’m not gonna sit here crying, either.”
Jared had been a jerk. His words had been a slap in the face.
Her doubts about relationships, love and trust had whizzed back into her head. David’s betrayal had stung like it was new.
Which is totally stupid.
“This is why I don’t date.”
Oh, but she wasn’t just dating Jared, was she?
Mel had fallen head over heels for him in a week.
She winced.
A friggin’ week.
She’d taken longer than a week to pick out a television at the big electronics store when she’d bought her house years before.
Where was her sense and careful planning?
Gone.
She sighed.
The first time, she’d pushed him, and it’d shut him down. Mel had failed the girlfriend test, big time. Jared had lashed out.
It hadn’t really been his fault—even if she’d been right.
“Wait. Knock it off.” She was inching dangerously close to the self-blame crap she used to do with David.
She’d made herself suffer from the things her ex had said too many times to count.
Jared was still different.
He still wasn’t David.
On the other hand, this isn’t my fault.
Yeah, sure, she’d pushed him, but he’d been the one to throw hurtful words. Had it been on purpose?
Had Jared been trying to hurt her?
Mel blew out a breath and reclined into her overstuffed couch. She crushed her eyes shut and willed the pain away.
Knowing it and feeling it were two different things.
Her heart was heavy and her chest burned, because she loved him.
She was torn between relief and sadness that she hadn’t told Jared how she felt about him. He’d been so fantastic about taking things slow with her—well, until he’d showed up on her doorstep the other night.
Although, that’d been okay, Mel had been ready to be with him again. And it’d been perfect. Hot and passionate, but tender and sweet, too. The look in his dark eyes, the way he touched and kissed her. With reverence. Caring.
Jared had made love to her that night, and every time they were together after that. Perhaps he had from day one, the night he’d brought her home from the bar.
The night she’d met Jared at McAuley’s hadn’t started a new chapter in her life, after all. Mel had gone and fallen for her one-night-stand the first chance she’d got.
Shaking her head at herself, she pulled the quilt she kept on the back of the couch around her and reached for the remote. She flipped through channels on the big TV and turned the volume up a little.
Mel wasn’t really watching it.
She still couldn’t stop replaying the evening like some stupid movie. Horrific, but she couldn’t look away. Like watching a car accident or something.
“You are sick. Seriously ill in the head. A glutton for punishment.” Her voice just made her even more disgusted with herself.
Mel scowled when she caught her reflection in the glass-top coffee table her dad had given her when she’d been trying to furnish her living room on the cheap. It was from a garage sale and was probably older than her, but it worked. However, at the moment, she’d rather throw it out. Or smash that clear clean mirror into a thousand pieces.
Her eyes were puffy and red. Her hair mussed—and she didn’t want to remember Jared’s hands in her long wavy locks.
He always went on and on about how he loved her hair. The waves were natural, and had always been her nemesis. As a kid, it’d always been a mess. The kinks never lying flat or even in a semblance of order until her dad had finally allowed her to have a straightener when she was a teen.
Somehow, her hair being disheveled from Jared’s hands didn’t bother her so much.
“Ugh!”
Stop thinking about him. Stop saying his name.
She couldn’t.
Maybe she should just go to bed.
Mel groaned and glanced at the clock on the cable box. It was only ten after nine. If she tried to sleep now, she’d only have trouble later, in the middle of the night.
I could call Val.
No. Mel wasn’t ready to tell her best friend about her argument with Jared.
It was just a little thing anyway. It’d blow over, wouldn’t it?
Her breath caught and her heart skipped.
What if it didn’t?
He’d said he cared about her, but what if Jared couldn’t handle a clingy—pushy—girlfriend?
Her detective had admitted he’d not had a relationship in a long time.
What if Mel had shown him he didn’t want one?
A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed as her vision blurred.
Her cell rang and Mel jumped.
Jared.
She grabbed the phone off the coffee table, her stomach fluttering.
Not Jared.
The number flashing wasn’t in her contacts.
“Hello?” The word cam
e out shaky, so Mel cleared her throat and sniffled.
“Miss Nash?” The voice was familiar but she couldn’t place it.
“This is she.”
“This is Cole Lucas, Ethan’s dad.”
“Jared’s partner,” she breathed.
He paused. “Yes, that, too.”
“Is he okay?” Mel blurted, gripping his phone tighter.
“Yes. Well, mostly. That’s why I called.”
Her heart plummeted to her stomach. “What happened?”
“Can you come down to the hospital?”
“Hospital?” Her voice came out a squeak.
“Not for him, he’s not hurt. I’m sorry, Miss Nash, I don’t mean to scare you. Jared’s fine. But his brother got shot, and he’s in bad shape. I think if you were here, my partner would be a lot calmer. When can you get here?”
His brother?
Jared had told her about his younger sister, Jenna, but had never mentioned a brother.
“Now. I’ll come now.”
“Lucas!” Mel heard a feminine shout in the background then muffled voices as if the detective had put his hand over the speaker.
“I’ve gotta go,” Detective Lucas said a few seconds later.
“Tell Jared I’m on my way.”
* * * *
He crushed his eyes shut and let his head fall into his cupped hands. Jared didn’t know where Carrigan or Lucas was, and he didn’t give a shit.
His legs had given up holding his weight as soon as he’d hit the waiting room.
A room he’d been in a dozen times.
Just never in this capacity.
“Fuck me.” His low voice greeted his ears, fragmented and really a half-sob.
He was only two seconds from losing it.
“Jared?”
When he heard her voice, Jared crushed his eyes shut and froze in his seat. He’d never told Mel about his brother. Had no idea how or why she was here, but he couldn’t look at her.
He swallowed hard when she slipped onto the chair next to his.
She slid her arms around him and Jared sucked back an honest-to-God sob. No way he was going to cry like a bitch in front of the woman he loved.
“Jared,” Mel whispered.
It was just like her to comfort without asking questions. After he’d been such an asshole to her tonight, why did she even care?
He didn’t know whether to be grateful and yank her to him or shake her arms off and flee the room.
“Why can’t this be some sort of sick nightmare?” His voice cracked as he forced the words passed his dry lips. He felt her warm fingertips above his left ear as she ran a caress through his thick hair.
“I don’t know, but I’m here for you. Anything you need.”
He choked as his throat started to close around a lump. “Cole call you?”
“Yes.” She paused, but he knew what she was going to add before she spoke. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”
Jared closed his eyes again. “God, hope it’s not had.”
Mel’s grip around his torso tightened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“No worries, baby. I guess I shouldn’t be morbid.” He finally raised his eyes to her beautiful face. Jared read compassion and concern in that crystal gaze and his heart skipped.
He threw his arms around her and crushed her to his body as best he could in their side-by-side chairs, burying his face against her. He inhaled deeply and squeezed his eyes shut. Mel’s scent was comforting. Familiar and normal, and all his.
“Thank you for coming,” he croaked. “I’m so sorry about tonight. I was a complete asshole.”
“It’s okay. I pushed you and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, too.”
“You should’ve. You were right.”
Mel hugged him tighter. “We can worry about that later.”
God, she’s too good for me.
He nodded into her neck.
A companionable silence fell, and they sat in the small waiting area, just holding each other.
It wasn’t the right time to finally admit how he felt about her, but Jared wanted to. He wasn’t through apologizing for what he’d said. He needed to see that Mel believed he was sorry, and only then could he bare his heart.
“I couldn’t tell you about Joe.” Jared cleared his throat. “He was—is. Fucking is—involved in my case.”
“I know.” She met his eyes when he lifted his face and caressed his cheeks with her thumbs, a small smile on her luscious mouth. “It’s okay. Now I know why you’ve been so tense.”
Jared nodded.
What the hell else could he say?
I love you hovered on his tongue.
“Detective Lucas said you needed someone to calm you. He told me your brother was shot. What happened? That he didn’t say.”
Jared stared into her pale eyes.
Where to start with that?
“Manning.” The voice of the person he wanted to hear least in the whole world, had his head swinging around to the waiting room door.
Cole was on Carrigan’s heels.
“Carrigan,” Lucas warned, but the FBI agent ignored Jared’s partner, striding forward.
Jared shot to his feet. Mel’s arms fell away from his body and he was cold. But he gripped the feeling with both hands and embraced the fury washing over him. “Get the fuck away from me.”
Mel gasped.
“Manning, I’m sorry.”
Jared ignored Carrigan and made eye contact with his partner. “Get this bitch away from me.”
“Jared!” Mel admonished, but he ignored the love of his life.
“Jared.” Carrigan’s use of his first name for the first time—ever—made him wince. “Lucas explained things. I’m so sorry.”
Jared narrowed his eyes. “It’s too fucking late for that, isn’t it?”
“Will you let me explain?”
“What’s to explain? You rushed in, ignored our commands and fucking shot my brother.” He took a step toward her, intentionally towering over her like he had at the house.
“Jared!” Mel’s hands enclosed his forearm, and he glanced into her crystal blue eyes. “Take a breath. It’s going to be okay.”
Pain warred with the anger that surrounded him like an aura. He looked at the FBI agent and back at the woman he loved.
He just wanted the hurt to stop. He wanted Joe to be okay, and he wanted Carrigan to pay.
“My brother didn’t kill anyone,” he whispered.
“I know.” Her hazel eyes were clouded with regret—and perhaps a little pain of her own.
Jared laughed, but it sounded bitter to his ears.
His partner winced from where he hovered over Carrigan’s shoulder.
Mel tightened her grip on him.
“Lucas told me just how wrong I was, and I’m sorry, Manning.”
Jared sat hard, the plastic chair creaked a protest.
Mel sat next to him and threw her arms around him again. He didn’t pull her to him, but he didn’t yank away from her, either.
“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it. My brother has a bullet in his head.” His voice broke. He was two seconds from sobbing, and he wasn’t about to do it in front of Carrigan. He averted his gaze, even though he could still feel her eyes burning his face.
“What the hell is going on here?” Chief Martin barked from the waiting room door. His wide shoulders filled the frame and he wore a scowl the size of Texas.
Jared sucked in air. He couldn’t talk to his boss right now. He just couldn’t.
If the man was still his boss, anyway.
Fuck.
“Boss, good to see you.” Cole was on it, meeting the chief of police before he could come into the room. “Let’s step out and I’ll brief you.”
Chief grunted, but threw Lucas a nod then they were gone.
Thank you, partner.
“Manning, I’m genuinely sorry.” Carrigan’s voice was thick and laced with regret.
Jared didn’
t give a shit.
“Get out. Just get the fuck out of here. You better pray my brother lives, or I’m coming after you.”
Mel gasped, but Jared didn’t give a shit about that, either.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“That went fucking fantastically, didn’t it.” Taylor crushed her eyes shut and sucked in the side of her cheek. She bit down to stave off threatening tears. The sting made her face throb but she didn’t care. Pain was good.
Tears?
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
And you’re still talking to yourself.
She needed something to focus on. Now.
How had doing the right thing ended up so skewed?
Joe Pompa wasn’t a murderer?
Manning had no clue how hard it was to admit she’d been wrong about him—about them both. Yet he’d rejected her apology like it was nothing.
She’d been chasing Joe Pompa since the morning John’s body had been found. She’d never forget that awful day for the rest of her life.
Taylor had insisted on identifying him herself.
Seeing his olive complexion so white had rocked her to her core. Lying on the cold metal table with a paper sheet covering him up to his chest, he hadn’t looked like the man she’d loved. Taylor had seen his hand first. Then his bare—bruised—arms and shoulders.
She’d had to force herself to look at his face. His dark hair had been swept off his forehead and John’s eyes had been swollen shut. He’d been beaten badly.
John had looked like he was asleep, as if he was resting, pain free from his wounds. The repose was false. He would never wake up again.
Taylor bit her fist as the first tear spilled over.
Turning toward the wall outside the waiting room, she swiped at her face, but her vision just blurred all over.
“No.” She wasn’t going to let Pompa—and Manning—do this to her.
Taylor had done what she’d had to do.
How was she supposed to know he wouldn’t actually shoot her? That he actually wouldn’t harm the detective who happened to be his brother?
She’d been protecting Manning and herself. Lucas, too.
Pompa could have easily turned and taken a shot at the former FBI agent.