Save Me

by Margaret Watson

  "Schmidt has a drug problem. He owes a guy a lot of money. He's paying it off."

  Livvy swallowed past the terror backing up in her throat. She read thrillers. She knew how this worked. Dugger wouldn't tell her all this unless he was going to kill her.

  She had nothing to lose by fighting back. "So you're going to shoot me in here? In front of all these lawyers and cops? You think you'll make it out the door?"

  "I'm not an idiot, Livvy. I have a suppressor on the gun. I'll shoot you here if I have to, and no one will notice. Stop stalling. Stand up. We're leaving."

  * * *

  Panic and anger filled Ryan's chest and shortened his breaths. Livvy. He was a block away. He'd switched off his siren two blocks ago. His lights were still flashing, but the intersection was blocked. There was nowhere for the cars in front of him to go.

  Fear coiled more and more tightly inside him, until finally he threw open his door and raced down the street, resting his hand on his gun as he ran. When he got close to The Winking Judge, he slowed to a fast walk. As if he were late for a meeting, but not late enough to run.

  As he reached the pub, he saw Livvy sitting in a booth at the window. A man sat across from her. Ryan spotted the gun in his hand and drew a shaky breath as he stepped into the pub. Breathed in, then out, before he turned toward Livvy's booth.

  He walked past Livvy but didn't look at her. Couldn't. If he saw fear on her face, or panic, he'd lose his focus. Make a mistake.

  So he smiled and waved, as if meeting someone in a booth along the wall. As soon as he passed Dugger, he pulled out his gun and put it to the asswipe's head.

  "Drop the gun, Dugger. Right now."

  Dugger froze.

  "I don't see that gun on the table and your hands in the air in two seconds, you're a dead man. One. T.."

  The gun clattered onto the table. Dugger raised his hands.

  The restaurant went completely silent.

  Still holding his gun, Ryan yanked Dugger out of the booth and shoved him to the floor. He slapped on cuffs and dropped his gun back into his holster. Then he hauled Dugger to his feet and patted him down. Wasn't gentle about it, either.

  He found a sheathed knife in Dugger's jacket. Six inch blade. Thinking about what Dugger might have done to Livvy with that knife, Ryan's stomach churned.

  One hand on Dugger's collar, he dialed 911 with his cell. "This is Detective Ryan Ward. I have a suspect in an attempted murder at The Winking Judge. Across from the Daley Center. I need a patrol car ASAP."

  Dugger took a step toward the door, and Ryan yanked him back. "Down on the floor," he snarled. "Now."

  Dugger dropped to his knees. Lowered himself to the floor, face down.

  Two uniformed cops elbowed their way through the gawking crowd. "You need a hand?" one of them asked.

  "Yeah." Ryan's hands shook as the adrenaline spiked in his veins. "Take him outside. Wagon's on its way. I'll be there in a minute."

  The two uniforms each took one of Dugger's arms and hoisted him into the air. Then, holding his arms, they led him out the door.

  Finally, Ryan reached for Livvy. She sat in the corner of the booth, her face white, her eyes huge. Dark.

  "Liv," he said, drawing her out of the booth. He drew her into his arms. Closed his eyes and inhaled her scent. "Liv."

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and gripped him tightly. She shook violently, her tears soaking his shirt.

  "Oh, god, Ry. I was so scared."

  "I know, babe." He smoothed one hand down her back. "I know."

  She sniffled against his shirt and gripped his waist. She'd leave bruises, and he'd cherish every one of them. They meant she was alive.

  "I knew you'd come," she said. "I knew you'd get here in time."

  Chapter 14

  Ryan stood in The Winking Judge, his arms tight around Livvy. He ignored the people crowding close. The questions thrown at them from every direction. The wailing siren announcing the arrival of a squad car.

  Instead, he breathed in her sweet orange scent. Felt her toned muscles beneath his hands, her now-familiar shape molded against him. The tickle where strands of her hair caught in his scruff. All proof Livvy was alive. That Dugger hadn't hurt her.

  Nothing else mattered.

  "Livvy!" Cilla's voice.

  Livvy lifted her head from his neck and stepped away. She reached for his hand, though, twining her fingers with his and clutching as if she never wanted to let go. "Cilla. How did you…?"

  Her sister jerked her head at him. "Ward called me. Asked me about Dugger. Said you'd called." She grabbed Livvy and squeezed hard, knocking Ryan's hand out of the way. "You were so damn smart to call him like that."

  Cilla finally let Livvy go. Cilla turned to Ryan and threw her arms around him. "You got here in time. Thank God."

  Wetness seeped into Ryan's shirt as he awkwardly patted Cilla's back. Was Cilla Marini crying on him? The tough woman who could stare down any vicious, hard-assed perp?

  The cold-as-stone woman who'd arrested him?

  "Yeah," he said as Cilla's shoulders shook beneath his hand. "Afraid I was gonna have to put on the Bat Suit and grab the Bat Car. Would have blown my cover."

  Cilla hiccupped a laugh and pushed him away. "Too bad, Bat Boy." She sniffled. "I bet Livvy would love to see you in that skin-tight suit."

  Cilla took a deep breath, then turned to the crowd surrounding them. Pulling her badge off her belt, she held it up. "Everyone back off. Sit down until we can get people in here to take your statements. We see anyone on their phone? It'll be confiscated." She glanced up to see two more squad cars pull up. "We clear?" She glanced around the room before she nodded once and headed outside.

  Ryan curled his arm around Livvy's shoulder and steered her out the door. Three squads now had the street blocked off in front of the pub. Dugger was gone – the first squad car had whisked him away.

  Ryan kept his arm around Livvy as she told the uniforms what had happened. Then he said, "There are a bunch of witnesses in there. We need statements from all of them. Detective Marini already warned them about cell phone use."

  He took a deep breath as the cops headed into the pub. The air in the pub stunk of spilled beer and fear. Out here, it smelled like the Loop – exhaust and burnt toast. "Let's get out of here. Want to go home?"

  Livvy shook her head, not letting go of him. "I want to tell Gus what happened, then give my statement. I want to make sure Dugger doesn't wiggle out of this."

  "You sure you don't want to go home?" He drew her closer. "You can give your statement tomorrow."

  "No," she said, her voice fierce. "I don't want to forget a single detail. He was going to drag me to his car, take me somewhere and kill me. I refused to leave. If you hadn't arrived when you did, he would have shot me in that booth."

  A fresh wave of rage swept over him. His hands itched to get hold of Dugger. He wanted to rip the dirtbag apart, one limb at a time. He could almost feel his hands around the bastard's throat, squeezing the life out of him.

  He'd threatened Livvy. Scared her. Came close to killing her.

  If Dugger had hurt her, or worse, killed her, Ryan would have been wrecked. Completely destroyed. He never would have gotten over Livvy.

  Whoa! A wild rush of panic swirled through him. That's not what he meant. What happened to fun? Uncomplicated? He wasn't supposed to think his life would be over if he lost Livvy.

  He'd promised himself this wasn't a long-term thing with her.

  It was the heat of the moment, he told himself. The adrenaline rush and the fury Dugger had released in him. His emotions were all over the map. Things would go back to normal after the burn subsided. He'd be able to think straight again.

  He glanced at Livvy as he guided her across the street, still holding her tight against his side. They'd get back to what they'd been before this – hanging out, talking, great sex.

  She didn't wait for him to open the door to the Daley building. Before he could grab the handle,
she yanked the door open and walked in, ramrod straight. Determined. Unwavering. The strongest woman he'd ever known.

  The truth hit him squarely between the eyes – there was no going back to not-serious with Livvy Marini. He was already too far gone. Already in lo… Panic bubbled up like a geyser again.

  He wasn't ready for this. Not for a real relationship, the kind that involved commitments. Promises. The white picket fence and two point four children.

  He had no idea how relationships worked. No idea how to share his life with a partner. He'd end up hurting Livvy, and that was the last thing he wanted.

  What the hell was he going to do?

  * * *

  Long hours later, Ryan watched two uniforms haul Dugger out of the interrogation room and off to holding. The detective who'd questioned him stood at the door, watching Dugger go, his signed confession in her hand. James Dugger would be shipped off to Cook County tomorrow to await a bond hearing.

  Ryan would do his best to make sure it was denied.

  Livvy was slumped against him, sound asleep, her head resting in the crook of his arm. His limb had gone numb an hour ago, but he hadn't wanted to wake her.

  He could sit here for hours, watching her sleep.

  Watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, knowing she was alive.

  They couldn't sit in the observation room all night, though. She'd have a sore neck and his arm would fall off. "Hey, Liv," he murmured, kissing her head. "Wake up, babe."

  Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled up at him, open and happy. Because she was with him.

  It felt as if she'd punched him in the gut.

  She shifted to look at the observation room and frowned. "Where did he go?"

  "On his way to Cook County. Julia Carlton got a confession out of him. We've already rounded up David Blaine, and once Blaine found out Dugger was talking, the detective interrogating him couldn't get Blaine to shut up.

  "He got an expensive lawyer, and the slick son of a bitch got Blaine and Dugger both a deal. They're not going to get as much time as they deserve. If it were up to me, they'd go away for life. But they've implicated Bates in a lot of crimes. Anson's not getting bail. He's not going anywhere for a long time. I'm guessing Anson's fancy lawyer has already dumped him."

  "What about Cory Schmidt?"

  "Picked him up, too. He's still claiming he was held up in a meeting, but they'll find what they need on him. Especially after what Dugger said about him being on Bates' payroll."

  He smoothed a hand down her hair. "Not much more we can do here. Do you want to go home?"

  "Yes," she sighed, laying her head on his shoulder. "Take me home, Ryan."

  * * *

  Livvy watched the streetlights flickering past as Ryan drove north on Lake Shore Drive. He hadn't said much since they got in the car. He'd asked if she was hungry. Cold. Asked if she wanted to tilt her seat back so she could sleep. Otherwise, he'd been silent.

  As he turned onto her street, she swiveled to face him. "You can put your car back in the garage. I'm leaving my car on the street tonight. It'd be silly to waste the parking space."

  "That's okay," he said, slowing at a smallish parking spot two buildings down from hers. "This is fine."

  He slid the car into the spot with the ease of a seasoned Chicago driver, then plucked her garage door opener from his visor. "Stash this in your briefcase to remind yourself to put it back in your car."

  "Isn't that your job?" she teased, reaching for the door handle. "Reminding me to do things to keep myself safe?"

  He stared down at his hands. "I'm not sure you need me for that. You did a pretty good job keeping yourself safe today."

  "I'll always need you, Ryan." She reached for his hand and twined her fingers with his, squeezing hard. His hand was stiff and cold, but he eventually squeezed back. Then he let her go as he climbed out of the car.

  Livvy stepped into the cold night air, watching Ryan come around the car. He was still avoiding her gaze.

  She began to shiver. The cold had seeped beneath her skin and burrowed into every corner of her body. Her ice-filled chest made it hard to breath.

  Something was wrong.

  "Ryan? Are you okay?"

  Maybe it was a delayed reaction to everything that had happened today. He'd told her about his visit with Anson. He'd rescued her from Dugger. They'd both given statements, and they'd watched hours of interrogations.

  Maybe he was just exhausted.

  "Let's go inside, Livvy," he said.

  Or maybe it wasn't just fatigue or the aftermath of an adrenaline rush.

  Her heart racing, her stomach twisting with nerves, she fumbled with the key to unlock the front door. Walked up the stairs slowly, every muscle and joint stiff with anxiety. Finally, once they were in her apartment, she turned on the lights and turned to him.

  "Something's wrong, Ryan. What is it?"

  He rubbed a hand over his face. "What makes you think that?"

  "You've hardly said two words to me since we left the First District station. You won't even look me in the eye."

  He met her gaze then. "What do you want from me, Livvy?"

  Everything. She wanted the whole nine yards with Ryan. "I'm exhausted, and I'm sure you are, too. Why don't we just go to bed? Remind each other that we’re both still alive. We can worry about the case and the loose ends in the morning."

  "I shouldn't stay, Livvy. I don't belong here."

  "What are you talking about? This is exactly where you belong." She reached for him, but he eased away from her.

  He scrubbed his hands across his face. "I can't be with you, Livvy. I'm a mess. A lousy cop, a lousy brother, a lousy son. I can't give you what you need. What you deserve. What I want you to have."

  "The man I've gotten to know this past week isn't a lousy cop. You've fought as hard as anyone could to keep Bates in jail. And there's no way I believe you could be a lousy brother or son."

  "We've spent a lot of time together, but you don't really know me, Livvy. If you did, you'd run as fast as you could." He took a step back from her. Closer to the door.

  "That's not true, Ryan." She wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to brace herself against the shaking. "I care about you, Ryan. I'm looking forward to seeing what normal life is like with you."

  "Are you sure, Liv? Because maybe all we had was forced closeness because of the case. Maybe I was just a port in the storm because you were scared."

  All we had.

  She swallowed around the huge lump in her throat. "Not for me. I…" She swallowed again. Maybe it was too soon, but she knew how she felt. She stepped closer to him. "I love you, Ryan. Which is odd, right now, because you're being a real ass. But I do. You're not a port in the storm," she added, biting the inside of her cheek to stop the tears that wanted to fall. "Not 'forced closeness'. I love you."

  He edged toward the door. Put one hand on the doorknob. From five feet away, she saw his knuckles whiten. "I'm…I really like you, Liv. You mean a lot to me. But I can't jump into a relationship with you. I'm screwed up. I wish I was worthy of you, but I'm not."

  "I thought we were already in a relationship," she said, struggling to keep her voice level.

  "I thought this was a 'have fun while we can' kind of thing. Easy. Great while it lasted. No strings attached."

  Her eyes prickled, and she drew herself up. She would not cry in front of him. "I know that's your usual thing. But I thought we had more than that."

  "I'm not relationship material." He twisted the doorknob, as if desperate to escape. From her. "I have to get my head on straight before I can get involved with anyone else."

  "You don't have to change for me. I love you the way you are."

  "I have to change for me, Livvy." He yanked the door open. Slid one foot over the threshold.

  Her lip trembled, and she bit down on it. Maybe he'd always had one foot out the door, and she'd just been too besotted to see it.

  "I have to go, Liv. I can't…I ca
n't be with you."

  "So this is one of those 'it's not you, it's me' things?"

  "Yes."

  "I don't think so." Finally, anger blurred the edges of the pain. "I think you're a coward who doesn't want to commit. Thanks for the help keeping Bates in jail. Now go to hell."

  She shoved him all the way out the door and slammed it behind him. He didn't leave – she'd have heard the stairs squeaking. For a long moment, she imagined she heard him breathing on the other side of the wood.

  Finally, he headed down to the vestibule. When the door closed behind him, she sank to the floor, put her head on her knees and wept.

  * * *

  Empty and numb, Ryan sat in his parked car for a long time, staring up at Livvy's apartment. Light bled out the windows at the edges of the blinds, creating an aura of brightness around her apartment. A sign of life.

  Was Livvy crying behind those blinds? He'd seen her eyes filling. Seen her bite her lip to stop the tears from falling.

  Or was she angry? Throwing things? Cursing him?

  He hoped she was angry. He didn't want to think about her crying, devastated by his betrayal. The agony of that picture made him want to run upstairs and tell her he didn't mean it. That he wanted to stay with her.

  He forced himself to start his car and pull away from the curb. He drove past her building without looking up again.

  He didn’t know how a real relationship worked. His own broken family was a piss poor example, and it was the only one he had. He didn’t want to wreck Livvy. She mattered too much.

  So instead, he'd wrecked them proactively.

  His heart told him to go back. Hold her. Celebrate life with her, and try to figure out a way together.

  Instead, he pressed down on the accelerator and kept driving.

  She might not see it right now, but he was doing what was best for Livvy.

  Even though it left him completely hollowed out inside.