Searching for Love (Behind Blue Lines #2)

by Christine Zolendz

  He roared and pulled out a drawer, throwing it across the room. With one giant swipe of his arm, things flew off the table, dishes crashed against the walls. The spaghetti hit the ceiling and stuck.

  There were strands of stringy, sticky spaghetti hanging down from my ceiling.

  Stunned, I grabbed him like he was a perp, my own brother. It gutted me, and I couldn’t hold onto him, because he was my brother. I couldn’t restrain my screaming, crying little brother. He flung himself away from me and started banging his head against the wall, so hard. He was just smashing his head against the wall. Fists punching at his own face. His eyes completely vacant.

  What triggered it?

  Was it me?

  The television and me talking at the same time? Was it something I said? Just like the covered pot of spaghetti and water, left unattended, he just boiled over.

  Cameron just blew up, exploding over everything.

  He ran into the bathroom with all his clothes on and turned on the shower. I had no idea what to do. I didn’t know anything. Couldn’t even think. He slammed the door in my face and somehow locked it on me.

  I banged on the door and screamed for him.

  I pulled out my phone, and I hesitated over Brooke’s number. I didn’t want this to be how I called her for the first time, but I didn’t have anyone else that would know what to do. She was the only face that came to my mind in the chaos.

  “Hello?” She sounded like an angel.

  “Brooke? Um. I’m really sorry. But I don’t know what the hell to do. Cameron. He’s going crazy. I don’t know what to do. He’s hurting himself. Hitting himself in the head. What do I do?”

  “Where are you?” she asked, softly. Her voice so calm I wanted to lose myself in it.

  “In my apartment. He’s in the bathroom. In the shower with all his clothes on. He…”

  “Give me your address,” she said, quickly.

  I gave her everything she needed. Through the phone, I heard her get in her car and the seat belt binging.

  “You could shut all the lights.” Her voice drifted like a dream to me.

  “What? Why?” I stammered.

  “Because it might calm him down.”

  “He was punching himself in the head, Brooke.” My voice sounded small and weak. I felt lost. I didn’t know how to help him. She just needed to tell me how to turn it off. “How do I turn him off?”

  “I’ll be right over,” she said, calmly. But what was she going to do? What if he was burning himself with the hot water? What if he was using my razors to cut into his skin? What if he swallowed all the mouthwash?

  Without another thought, I kicked through the door.

  Cameron was soaked, the bathroom filled with steam, and he was under the stream of the shower.

  He came out pacing like an animal. Wailing and clawing at his head.

  I ran ahead of him and shut all the lights.

  How was this supposed to work? Now, it’s just dark in here.

  I heard the front door open, and the television shut off. Cameron’s sobs and curses filled in the silence of the room. I never heard him curse before. The words were garbled and awkward in his cries.

  Brooke walked in swiftly and gracefully. I watched, dumbfounded, as she took control of the situation. I pressed myself up against the wall and tried to regulate my breathing as I watched her silently redirect him onto the couch, and wrap him in a dry towel she pulled from the bathroom closet.

  Eventually, she got him to change into his pajamas.

  She took one look at the mess in the kitchen and asked, “Did either of you eat?”

  “Dinner is on the ceiling.” My throat was dry, and my voice cracked hoarsely.

  She climbed over the mess carefully in the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She came back in and sat in front of Cameron. She held up two hands and asked, “Are you hungry? Yes or no?” The right hand she held out for yes, the left she held up for no.

  Cameron tapped her right hand.

  She took out her phone and pulled up an app. He watched her hands carefully, trying to grab for her phone when it suddenly said, “I would like to eat…”

  Cameron looked at her phone carefully for a moment and pressed the screen. “A sandwich,” the electronic voice said.

  Within five minutes, Brooke had him eating a ham sandwich as he sat calmly on my couch.

  My knees gave out, and I slid down the wall until my ass hit the floor.

  She walked past me, back into the kitchen and returned with another sandwich on a dish, placing it on my lap. “You okay?” she asked.

  “Nope,” I said, looking up at her. “It was stupid thinking I could pull this off.”

  She dragged my living room chair over to face me and sat down.

  I shook my head and glanced toward Cameron. “I had to clean shit out of his pants when we got out of the car today,” I blurted. “There was shit, dried shit caked down his legs.”

  Her face softened, and she reached out and placed her hand on my knee.

  “And the only thing I could think of was, why me? How freaking selfish is that?” I said, laughing darkly. “All I could think about is what the hell my family could have done to deserve this. I hate myself for it.”

  “Don’t,” she said, low. “It’s okay to feel angry about it. It’s normal to not want to have to deal with it. Don’t think you’re the only one, Cage.” She leaned closer, balancing herself on the edge of the cushion. “I’ve volunteered for years with special needs children, each of their families is dealing with the same feelings. Every once in a while you need to stop and scream and question it, as long as at the same time you keep realizing just how amazing these kids are.”

  “Yeah, but my poor mother. She got a shitty hand of cards with her husband and kids. I always want to help her, like letting her go on this damn vacation, but it’ll never be enough. Not with all the shit she’s had to deal with.”

  Cameron nosily thudded his dish onto the coffee table and walked into the bathroom. The light switch flicked on and with the door wide open we could hear him running the sink water and brushing his teeth. “He’s getting ready for bed,” I whispered, shocked.

  “That gives us time to clean up, huh?” she smiled.

  I peeked my head around the opening of the kitchen, “I could just move to another apartment. It’d be easier.”

  Her smile was dazzling. “Come on,” she said, holding out her hand.

  But when I took her hand, and I felt her skin against mine, all I could think of was how much I wanted to kiss her.

  And then my lips were against hers. Tasting something I knew I would instantly never get enough of. Backing her up against the wall, feeling something I have never felt before. Some new emotion that I never knew—never thought possible—something intangible and unimaginable. A sensation that breaks open your chest and steals your breath and makes you think that every other pair of lips you’d ever touched before were but shadows of these. Every one of them wrong compared to this kiss. A fiery rush of helplessness, and need exploded with an intensity that made the room sway and bend.

  Our bodies were pressed together, but I knew we’d never be close enough. Everything around us vanished. Silence and bliss blanketed over us. Cameron was fine. The world was good and everything was—

  Her lips suddenly backed away from me.

  “Stop,” she breathed heavily, pushing hard at my shoulders. Her hands slapped over her mouth in disbelief. “We can’t… We can’t do this.” There was a moment when we both stared at each other in combined confusion and shock.

  She quickly slid away from me, her eyes teary and not able to look directly into mine. “This can’t happen,” she said, turning her back toward me.

  “Why?” I grabbed for her shoulders as she slipped out of my reach.

  “Because it can’t, okay? Don’t be an asshole.” Her voice trembled. “Just, don’t do this. Okay? Just don’t.” Her voice was high-pitched now, and her hands clutched at her
stomach, like I’d made her sick.

  I slumped back against the wall, stunned and more than a little embarrassed.

  She looked around the room, confused, like she was suddenly wondering how she got there. “I should go,” she whispered.

  “Yeah. Okay,” I replied, softly.

  Then, she just walked out, slamming the door behind her, and I was left standing there alone, wondering what the hell just happened—what the hell did I do wrong?

  Chapter 7

  Brooke

  Ryan hates me.

  He was sitting at the edge of Dean’s desk and moved away as soon as Dean sat me down in his chair. “I wanted to ask you and your partner a few questions about the similarities in the crimes scenes,” my brother said, coolly. He thought whoever killed the cadets had something to do with the break-in at the dentist’s office.

  Without giving me so much as a sideways glance, Ryan dragged another chair over for Mark to sit on, then shoved his hands in his pockets and stared down at the floor.

  Even though Dean was asking Mark and me questions, I couldn’t stop myself from stealing quick glances at Ryan, and not giving any answers. I had none to really give. I was stuck daydreaming about how Ryan’s tongue had felt in my mouth.

  How stunned his face looked when I pushed him away.

  How I desperately wanted to pull him back, but was too damn scared. Being with someone else in the same office, again? I couldn’t deal with seeing the Captain every morning now. I wanted a transfer so badly I could taste it. Harris was already saying that I had started a relationship with him, because I wanted a promotion. What would my reputation be after it got around that I was screwing with someone else a higher rank than me?

  I peeked at Ryan again. He leaned back on the edge of another detective’s desk, arms folded across his chest. His face looked grim, like he had a lot on his mind, his eyes never looked up from the floor.

  Dean fired questions at Mark while I kept my mouth shut, for fear I would embarrass myself and mention the words kiss, tongue, or anything about the damn dreams I had about Ryan all night.

  Those dreams were so real my thighs were still tingling. I swallowed hard and tried to pay attention.

  Mark was doing most of the talking. He mentioned Nathan’s and hotdogs a lot.

  When we were both excused, Ryan straightened up and softly reached out to my wrist, tugging me back toward him. “I need you to tell me about your ex, Brooke,” he whispered. His eyes looked around behind me, “I’m going to need his or her name.”

  “His or her?” I repeated.

  “Trying to be politically correct here.”

  “Well thank you. It’s been all men,” I said, stunned he asked so casually. He didn’t flirt at all like he normally did, and I found myself bothered by it. I wanted him to say something like great there’s more of a chance for me, but he remained quiet, gazing past me. It made my chest ache.

  “There’s no need for you to know,” I said softly, shaking my head. “Believe me, this doesn’t have anything to do with him.”

  “You went on a date with the dentist, and you worked closely to both cadets. One cadet even had a fight with his girlfriend, because she was so jealous of all the time he spent talking about you.” His tone was flat, and his eyes stared out over my shoulder. He waved to someone behind me and smiled with that flirty crooked grin of his. I would’ve bet it was the gorgeous-haired Martinez. Something strange burned in my chest, and I closed my eyes, pushing the jealous thoughts away.

  “That’s not true, that’s…I…but…” I couldn’t focus on the words.

  “It’s exactly what was said to me by his girlfriend,” he said, curtly.

  “Cage. I promise you that there’s nothing—”

  “Why are you so scared to tell me?” he snapped.

  I couldn’t seem to stop myself from watching his lips move—the lips that kissed me. Did he think about the kiss at all? Or did he give up thinking about it, because I rejected him?

  “Look, Fury. I understand if you don’t want to talk to me about it. I’m sorry about what happened last night. I should have never touched you,” he took a deep breath and raked his hand over his head. “And I promise, it will never happen again. But, at least tell your brother, so he can check shit out.”

  “No, that’s…that’s not why I won’t say—” I stammered.

  “Fury!” the captain roared in the hallway.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. Not now. I didn’t want to deal with this now.

  “In my office, now!” he shouted, banging his fist on the door.

  Ryan pinched his lips tightly and shook his head, “Just talk to your brother, okay? Or the Captain. Tell someone you trust.” He kicked the chair out of the way with his foot and stalked off toward Martinez’s desk, instantly making me feel like vomiting.

  Ugh. Get over it. It was my choice to push his gorgeous stupid lips away. Now, I had to deal with my decision.

  “Sir?” I greeted, stepping into the doorway of the captain’s office. He thudded the door closed behind me. I flinched like a scared little puppy with the sound.

  “What happened between you and the dentist?” he demanded.

  “Harris…” I hissed, fed up and trembling. I didn’t want to be behind closed doors with that man. I didn’t want to feel anything for him or be confused by any of the messed up crap I had going on in my mind.

  “Brooke. Your brother told me about both crime scenes. I know you were close with the cadets who were killed. How close were you with the dentist?”

  “Harris. I went on one date with him. Two weeks ago.”

  I saw the hurt in his eyes.

  “I never even kissed him. And it was after we split up.” Why was I explaining any of this to him?

  “It’s been a month, and I still think about you. About us.”

  “Captain Anderson, I really don’t think we should entertain this conversation any longer.”

  “Brooke, I want you to take vacation time and stay out of the office for a while.”

  “What? I can’t just—”

  “Yes, you can. I’ll modify your duty. Stay home.”

  “But why?”

  He leaned in closely, and spoke low. “Because I really do care about you, and I’m worried. I know I fucked up, and I will never forgive myself for what happened. I was drunk and upset, and there is no excuse, but I really wanted to make this work between us.” He took a deep breath and stepped forward, placing his hands on my shoulders. “I need you safe, okay. Take a few days off and maybe, I’ll stop by. Bring you some dinner. Breakfast in bed. Maybe, we could start over.”

  My thoughts spun around. I didn’t want dinner or breakfast in bed. I didn’t want to start over.

  “That’s not going to happen, Sir.”

  He bowed his head closer to me and brushed his lips lightly against my cheek. “You have no idea what I could make happen, sweatheart.”

  Someone knocked on the door, and I jumped clear across the room, reminding me how our relationship really was. For almost three months, we hid our feelings in front of everyone. He was afraid people would say I was sleeping my way up the ladder. But that wasn’t true. I had liked him, really liked him.

  I slipped through the opening of the door when he was too busy to notice. My stomach was tangled into knots, and I clutched at it, trying to settle the storm about to spew out of my mouth. When I walked into the 124-room Ryan’s brother Cameron was sitting at his desk. My feet skidded to a stop and for a moment, I was surprised, pleasantly surprised.

  “Hi Cameron,” I said, giving him a wave.

  “Yeah,” he said, never turning his attention to me.

  I walked closer to him, wondering where he was actually supposed to be.

  There were dozens of papers strewn across the top of Ryan’s desk, all of them covered with penciled sketches of people that were sitting around the office. True to life, photographic drawings. There was Dean, leaning back in a chair with a phone to his ear. His feet we
re up, a lace on his sneaker undone. Another one was Martinez, drinking from a cup of coffee. Lipstick smeared along the rim of her mug, just like in real life. I stood stunned. Amazed by the amount of talent that could come from one teenaged boy.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered under my breath.

  “Hey.” Ryan’s voice was low and somber behind me.

  I had to drag my eyes away from Cameron’s hand, to look in Ryan’s direction.

  “What did el Capi-tan say?” he asked, sipping at a bottle of water.

  “That I’m on paid vacation until further notice,” I said, ashamed.

  Ryan eyed me strangely as I moved closer to Cameron. The way the skin around his eyes bunched up as they narrowed put me on edge.

  “Did you know he could do this?” I asked, pointing toward all the sketches. Cameron was drawing me now. My eyes were sad, and the corners of my lips were turned down. I looked back up toward Ryan, my face filled with wonder.

  “Yeah, of course,” he said, dryly. He scratched at the back of his neck, and twisted his lips like he had more to say.

  “What?” I asked, impatiently. “Whatever you need to say, spit it out.”

  He tilted his head at me, suspiciously, giving me a nasty smirk. “I guess it’s good to be in close with the captain huh? Paid vacation and all.” I didn’t like the implication, but I ignored it, even when the words burned hot across my chest and made my heart beat faster.

  I shrugged it off like his words didn’t just knock me on my ass. “So,” I said, clearing my throat. “Why is your brother here?”

  “Because I had no other place to put him; it’s Saturday,” he said dryly, walking past me. “Unlike some people, I can’t just shake my ass and get days off with full pay.” He yanked over a chair next to his brother and sat down, pulling out a file from under all the drawings.

  A few desks away, Lydia snorted out a laugh.

  I continued to stare at Ryan blankly, not wanting to let his words sink in—not wanting to let Lydia’s laugh affect me. Yet, I was barely holding it together. A sharp ache ripped through my throat, and I gulped back hot shame. I tried to smile, as if it were nothing more than a joke—but my chin quivered, betraying me—and my cheeks burned red, displaying all my secrets.