Nate smirked and quietly muttered, “How’d you get on with Little Miss Spitfire?
Jarrett’s eyes rounded with amusement. “I told her I wouldn’t agree to jack shit until I talked to you first.”
“Okay.” Nate nodded.
“So what can you give me?”
“Not much.” Nate shrugged. “Human remains found in the back shed of the farmhouse on Fraser Road. Kelly is currently examining the scene. We won’t have any more details until the skeleton has been analyzed by a forensic anthropologist that Chad is calling in from Hamline University.”
Jarrett had his trusty pad of paper out, jotting notes and nodding. “And what else?”
“Nothin’.” Nate shrugged.
“Nothing?” Jarrett gave him a skeptical frown. “Gimme a break, man. You’ve got to know something more. This could be really big.”
“Well, it isn’t right now,” Nate told him. “I need you to keep this low-key.”
“What?” Jarrett was incredulous.
“Don’t be poking your nose in and trying to make it something bigger than it is. Not until we have more to go on.”
“You can’t ask me to do that.” Jarrett was shaking his head. “Not with a story like this.”
“I can ask you, and I will. Jarrett, you’ve got to give us some room here. I’ll feed you information as I get it, but please don’t jump the gun. And don’t get in the way.”
Jarrett’s expression darkened, so Nate gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “I’ll owe you lunch.”
“Lunch?” Jarrett scoffed. “Try plural meals. And drinks. And maybe your firstborn.” He wrinkled his nose. “Actually, scratch that last one.”
Nate grinned. “I swear I’m good for it.”
With a resigned sigh, Jarrett shoved his pen in his pocket and gave a reluctant nod. “Fine. I’ll report bare minimum for now, but I’m expecting something pretty damn decent when you know more.”
“You’ll be the first to hear it.”
“I want the exclusive.” Jarrett gave him a pointed look.
“You got it.” Nate held out his hand and they shook on it. “Now get out of here and let me get back to work.”
Jarrett wouldn’t comply—Nate knew well enough that he wasn’t going anywhere—but he did at least turn and head back to Lucas and Alaina.
Nate stepped back into the workshop to check on Kelly’s progress.
She was just placing her camera down, which meant she’d finished thoroughly recording the scene. Kneeling beside the skeleton, she started a close-up analysis just as Chad arrived to help her. Nate stepped aside to give him some room. The guy didn’t usually come out to the field, but this was a special case and he wanted to ensure the remains were moved as he’d been instructed by the forensic anthropologist, who was making arrangements to come down that week and examine the body.
Nate stayed for the entire process, asking questions and building as much of a story as he could. When Cam arrived, he went through the details with her, the evening disappearing as they discussed theories that couldn’t yet be confirmed.
While they were working the case, he felt like he was on fire—his brain alert and focused, his pulse upbeat and thrumming through his veins.
It wasn’t until the property had been cleared for the night and he finally dropped the car back at the station and collected his bike that everything came crashing down around him. Glancing at his watch, he noted the time—11:35pm—and felt like someone had just smashed him in the chest with a mallet.
“Shit.” He closed his eyes, bowing his head and squeezing his knee.
Sally.
He’d forgotten about Sally.
Reaching into his jacket pocket, he felt her gift and knew that trying to give it to her when he got home was potentially a wasted moment.
He’d screwed up big-time.
So much for a special night.
“Fuck,” he muttered, shoving the key in the ignition and gunning it home.
He didn’t want to waste time with a call or a text. He just needed to get in that door, apologize, and spend the night making it up to her.
Sally was a forgiving, patient angel. She understood that cases popped up. She understood that he had a job to do.
Clenching his jaw, he sped his way home and was relieved to see the lights on when he pulled into the driveway. She’d waited up for him.
As he hopped off his bike, the thought hit him that she’d waited up to yell at him. But that wasn’t Sally. She wasn’t a yeller. She went quiet.
Thankfully, he knew all the right moves to coax a smile out of her. She never stayed mad for long.
He stopped outside the front door and pulled in a slow breath before unlocking it. All the right words were drumming through his mind, but they were cut short when he nearly tripped over a suitcase by the door.
He frowned at it before glancing up at the sound of Sally’s footsteps.
She appeared in the room with Rusty by her side. She was wearing her favorite pair of blue sweats, her tattered college hoodie and a pair of scuffed white Converses. Nate focused on those, needing a minute before reaching her face.
Rusty glanced across the room at Nate and kind of whined, but he knew better than to leave his favorite girl. He gazed up at her and Nate followed his line of sight, landing on Sally’s face.
It tore him to shreds.
Her cheeks were pale and blotchy, her eyes rimmed red. She’d obviously washed her makeup off, but he could detect the faint mascara tears that must’ve been running down her cheeks throughout the evening.
He winced, his expression creasing with remorse. “Baby, I am so sorry.”
He went to move into her space, but she held up her hand and scuttled back so far she banged into the wall. She’d never reacted like that before and he stopped, fear clipping the edge of his stomach.
Glancing over his shoulder, he looked at the suitcase again and dread rushed through him. Icy blood turned his body cold.
When he looked back, she started to make his nightmare a reality.
“You forgot about me.” Her voice quavered like she was fighting for control.
“I…” He sighed, knowing she was right. “It’s a new case. That’s—”
“I don’t want to hear about your new case. I don’t care about your new case!” she spat. “Tonight was supposed to be about me. And I know that may sound selfish and immature, but I don’t give a shit. I could’ve been with my family and friends, but I gave that up for you.” She pointed an accusing finger at him, then spread her arms wide. “And big surprise, something more important came up.”
“I can’t predict when a new case will—”
“You don’t always have to be the first one there! There are other people at the AFPD! But you just can’t let these things go, can you? You are addicted to your work, and I am tired of always coming second to that. I want to matter.”
“You do matter.”
“Well it doesn’t feel like it!” She stamped her foot, her expression tortured. “I just… I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”
“What?”
“I…” She sucked in a shaky breath, then pressed her lips together and started blinking like she was fighting tears.
Nate’s air supply was being cut off as invisible fingers squeezed his throat. “Are you…saying you want to break up with me?”
She looked to the floor. “Maybe,” she whispered.
“Maybe? Why haven’t you talked to me about this?”
“I’ve tried. I just…” She shook her head and shrugged.
“You can’t have tried that hard.” Nate threw his keys onto the side table. “I thought you understood about my work. How important it is. Of course I care about you, but I’m a cop. I can’t turn my back on a case because it’s your birthday.”
Admittedly his voice had turned snappy as he argued with her, but the look on her face made him feel like he’d just been punched in the stomach.
He swallow
ed, instant regret flooding him.
The tears she’d been fighting trickled free. “Work will always come first, won’t it? No matter what is happening in my life, a case will always come before me.”
He couldn’t speak past the ash in his mouth.
“I can’t do this anymore, Nate.”
He blinked and looked at her like she was crazy.
Her chin bunched, new tears brimming on her lashes. “I can’t keep waiting around for you.”
Fear clenched him, panic making him reach into his jacket pocket for the gift. “I’m here now. I’m—”
“No! I can’t!” She held her hands. “I can’t keep making excuses. I need a break.”
No. No. She couldn’t be saying that!
It was Sally.
She understood!
“We need some space.” She shook her head and started crying.
“I don’t need space,” he argued. “I need you.”
Her body trembled as she let out a broken laugh and slashed the tears off her cheeks. “No you don’t. You need your work. That’s all you need. And I thought I could do it, you know? But tonight gave me a chance to really think it through.” She sniffled. “I was imagining the future and what that might look like. You know, I’ve been hoping for months that you’d propose, but as I sat here, waiting for you yet again, I realized I don’t want this life. I don’t want a husband who is constantly late and always puts work before me. What if we had kids one day? They would never see their father. You would miss everything, and I’d be raising them alone. I can’t do that.”
He gripped the present in his pocket, struggling for the right words, but finding none.
“I can’t do it, so what’s the point of us being together? We have no future, Nate, so we may as well end it.”
Letting the gift go, he pulled his hand out of his pocket and crossed his arms, an unexpected anger coursing through him.
She was giving up. Just like that.
Ending it. Just like that.
She wasn’t even letting him have a say. It was like being fucking blind-sided.
Running trembling fingers through her hair, she pulled herself tall and walked around him. He could’ve so easily caught her wrist and pulled her close. He’d hold her tight and whisper into her hair.
But this time, she wouldn’t let him.
He could feel it.
She’d made up her mind, and nothing was going to stop her from walking out that door. So instead he stood with his arms crossed, staring at the spot where she’d once stood. The pastel green wallpaper mocked him as the sound of Sally’s footprints echoed on the hard wooden floor.
When the door creaked open, Rusty let out a confused bark. “It’s okay, boy. Go to the car. We’re going to see Yvie.”
So she was high-tailing it to her parents’ place.
Most women would be kicking him out. The house belonged to Sally; the mortgage was in her name, and Nate had no right to it.
“I know you weren’t expecting this, so I’ll stay at my parents’ until…”
Nate filled the silence, his husky voice barely audible. “I’ll be out before sunrise. This place isn’t mine anyway.”
He didn’t glance over his shoulder to see her expression, but her soft whimper made him cringe. He closed his eyes and listened as the door shut behind him. He remained a statue until he heard her car pulling out of the driveway.
As the silence engulfed him, he shuffled to their room, staring down at the bed like a robot who’d just had its system wiped clean.
He had no idea how long he stood there, but eventually he sniffed and pulled the small black box from his jacket pocket.
Brushing his finger lightly over the red ribbon, he threw it onto the bed and then turned for the closet.
He said he’d be out before sunrise, and that was exactly what he intended to do.
9
Saturday, April 28th
1:25am
The duffel bag on Nate’s back weighed a thousand pounds, but he adjusted his shoulders and kept driving. He pulled up to Blaine’s apartment block and locked up his Harley before taking the stairs two at a time.
He didn’t care what the time was. He pounded on his brother’s door until it finally jerked open.
“What! The hell! Is your problem?” Blaine gritted out, running his hands through hair that was already standing on end.
His chest was bare and he was wearing a pair of boxer shorts…back to front and inside out.
Nate frowned at him, then muttered, “I need a place to stay.”
The comment took his brother off guard.
Blaine paused for a second, blinking in confusion before the lights slowly came on. “What happened?”
“She’s had enough.”
Blaine’s expression crumpled with sympathy, but there wasn’t an inkling of surprise evident.
Nate’s nostrils flared. “If you fucking say ‘I warned you,’ I’m going to smash you in the face.”
“Not saying it.” Blaine shrugged, then glanced over his shoulder. “But you can’t stay here.”
“What? Why not?”
Blaine’s cheeks flared red. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
“The middle of…” Nate’s question evaporated as he quickly figured it out. “Aw, gross.”
“You don’t want to be sleeping on my couch tonight. Go to Dad’s.”
“You asshole. You’re gonna make me stay with Dad?”
Blaine snickered. “It won’t kill you.”
“Can’t you just explain to Rosie that—”
“No!” Blaine cut him off. “I’m having a good time, and not to sound harsh, but I’m not giving it up to help your sorry ass. Not when there’s a perfectly decent guest room waiting for you.”
“I don’t want to go home,” Nate practically whined.
With a firm expression, Blaine pointed at his face. “You’ve barely been back there since you left for college. Now get over yourself and get out of here.”
Blaine closed the door before Nate could form another argument. Instead, he kicked the door just to really drive home his annoyance.
Blaine ignored him, no doubt already whipping off his boxers and diving back into bed with Rosie.
Jealousy tore through Nate, hot and fierce. He should’ve been in bed with Sally right then, making love and celebrating her birthday. But instead he was standing alone in a dark corridor.
He could go sleep at the station.
“What a joke,” Nate grumbled.
‘Sleep’ and ‘station’ were two words that did not go together. He’d end up in a fitful sleep that would no doubt be interrupted, and then he’d wake up with an aching back and sore neck.
There was a perfectly comfortable bed available at his father’s house, but the idea of going there was like acid in his throat. It was the house his dad and Gillian had bought when they first got married. The house Silas had tortured him in. The house Blaine had been born into. He hated it there.
With a heavy sigh, Nate wiped his burning eyes and shuffled away from Blaine’s door.
He needed sleep.
If he was going to do this new case any justice, he needed to come at it fresh in the morning.
Fresh was probably a big stretch, but if he was going to get anywhere near that, he had to swallow his angst and get over to the house on Chestnut Lane.
Nate grumbled his way down the stairs and gritted his teeth for the entire motorbike ride. Parking next to his father’s Buick, he had to force himself to walk up the path and knock on the front door.
It was a half-hearted thump, but his dad still heard it.
The stairwell light shone through the cracks in the door, and a few moments later it inched open.
His father’s brown eyes took a second to register who it was, and then his dark eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Nate?”
“Yeah, it’s me. I need a place to stay.”
“Wh… Is Sally okay?”
The
old man loved Nate’s girlfriend, probably more than he loved him, and it hurt to choke out the words “We broke up, and no, I don’t want to talk about it.”
Harry Hartford’s head jerked back in surprise. He brushed a shaky hand over his beard before finally murmuring, “Okay. Okay. Uh…co-come in.”
“Thank you.” Nate’s shoulders tensed as he walked into the house, memories flooding him with each step. The fights at the dinner table, the unfair way Gillian yelled at him when Silas had been the one to break the vase, stain the carpet, or pull apart the radio. The dreaded silence that descended every time he was sent to his room and the way his shy, noncombative father never stood up for him. His mother would’ve whooped Gillian’s ass.
He shut his eyes to ward off the emptiness that threatened to swallow him whole. Being reminded of that lost boy who was trying to survive without his mommy still hurt, and he wasn’t sure he could stand it.
He nearly turned and fled, but then his father’s hand landed on his shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze.
“I’ll get some sheets. Do you want to sleep in your old room or…?”
“I can just take the couch.”
“I’ll make up the bed in the guest room.” Harry gave him a half smile and shuffled off.
Nate’s bag thumped onto the floor in the entrance and the silence settled around him like a thick, suffocating fog.
He didn’t know how he was going to survive this.
Sally was his light, and without her the world seemed shrouded in a darkness that wanted to feast on his soul.
10
Monday, May 7th
6:20pm
It had been ten days.
Ten awful days filled with tears and regret and second-guessing.
Each emotion was countered by a different family member assuring Sally that she’d done the right thing.
She’d taken two days off work to hug her pillow and cry. Her father forced her back to the hospital, knowing it was what she needed.
It had been.
Lena listened to her during every break, again with the reassurances. She was surrounded by them. Yet it still hurt.
Dark Horse (Aspen Falls Novel) Page 5