by Nicole Helm
“Sorry my moral code offends you so damn much. Now, why don’t you—”
“Don’t be a dick when I spent the night with you.”
“I thought that’s what you wanted. Me to show you a flaw. Here you go, Tess.”
“You know what? Forget it.” She turned and walked to the door.
“I thought so.” Because, yes, no matter what she seemed to think she wanted, his temper was selfish and ugly and no one wanted that. No one wanted him to want to be important, they wanted him to stand by and keep his feelings and wants to himself.
“You’re not making the point you think you’re making.” She wrenched the door open then hesitated and closed it again.
After a second or two of silence, she turned to face him. “I care about you,” she said fiercely. As if it was an important, irrefutable fact she wouldn’t let him deny. And that froze him, froze his anger, made everything seize up inside him.
What was he supposed to say to that? Who had ever turned to him when he was being a dick and said they cared? Hell, how many said that to him when he wasn’t being a dick?
“Maybe I don’t know how that’s supposed to go. Maybe I’ll never figure it out, but it doesn’t change that I do. Ass face.”
He felt shaken, flipped over. So he clung to the least important part of her message. “Ass face, huh?”
“I am nothing if not creative in my pet names.”
They stood at opposite ends of the room. Her eyebrows were drawn together, lips pursed, everything about her tense and irritated. But...also concerned. About him. About what he felt.
She thought he mattered. Last night does not prove that. But he knew how to deal with last night–type things, didn’t he? Hadn’t that been what he’d been telling himself? He was used to that. He could keep...being used to it.
“I care about you, too. For the record,” he managed to say.
“I know, but I think it’s more important you know. You don’t have to hide your feelings away from me because you think I won’t like them. A disagreement, an argument, it doesn’t negate the feelings we have for each other. Any more than not knowing how we’re going to manage a future does.”
He wasn’t convinced of that, any of it, but the fact she was trying to convince herself of it was...something. She was something and he’d be an idiot to push it away.
A fucking moron.
“We really should get ready for work, but maybe tonight...tonight we can talk.”
Her lips curved, not a full-blown smile, but enough to know she was cheered, encouraged. That smile should serve as a reminder that this was a mistake, knowing it couldn’t end the way he wanted it to. If he wanted to keep his heart intact, returning that smile would be disastrous.
Well, maybe he’d already screwed that up.
* * *
TESS DROPPED HER utility belt on the kitchen table, locked her gun in the safe and then stood in the middle of her apartment.
Anger coursed through her, but something deeper lingered after her father’s latest message.
A hurt she didn’t know how to ignore, a hurt that made her want to give up. Quit BCPD, give Marc the brush-off and just accept the fact she was her father’s keeper.
I found some things of your mother’s. Burning them if you don’t come get them today.
She was being manipulated. She knew that, she felt that.
She shouldn’t care. She should not give one second’s thought to something of her mother’s, the woman who had abandoned them both before Tess could even remember. Why should she care about that woman’s things?
But she did care. She had never seen anything of her mother’s, never had anything. Once she thought she found a picture, of a woman who she’d seen a resemblance to, but Dad had claimed it was of some cousin and thrown it in the trash.
She trudged to her room, shedding her uniform shirt and adding it into the pile on the floor. Followed by her pants. Then she stood in front of her closet and tried to figure out what on earth she was going to do.
She had to go. She couldn’t focus on having a talk with Marc if she had this hanging over her head, and, damn it, just as she deserved Marc, she deserved something of her mother’s, even if she ended up burning it. That would be her choice, and maybe she could find some clue...some piece of the puzzle of why her mother would abandon her with Dad.
She dragged on some jeans, stripped off her undershirt and replaced it with a T-shirt. She was going to get what was hers.
Damn straight.
She glanced at her watch. If she really hurried, and Dad didn’t pitch a fit, she could get back without being too far off her and Marc’s usual schedule. So she shoved her feet into tennis shoes and hurried.
Of course, when she arrived at her father’s apartment complex, her heart all but stopped. Two BCPD police cruisers were parked in front of the building, a crowd and a few of the evening officers in the yard.
Tess hurried out of her car, heart hammering in her ears. “What are you—” She stopped herself as it finally sank in that they weren’t near her father’s apartment—it was 1C, where the sketchy guy from the other side of the building lived.
“What’s...going on?” she asked the first officer she saw, grimacing when she realized it was Granger.
“Busted that guy for distribution,” he replied, gesturing toward the door. “Starting to be a little suspicious you’re always around, Camden.”
“If you recall, my father lives here.”
“Tell your father to get better accommodations. This place is a shit hole.”
She wanted to tell him to fuck off, but what did that serve? Besides, it was a shit hole. But it was the only shit hole she could afford and her father agreed to live in. So, really, Granger could fuck off, but telling him did nothing.
So she bit her tongue and turned to her father’s apartment. She had to remember she was hurrying. She had one purpose and one purpose only. Get her mother’s things and get home to Marc.
“You know, just because the captain thinks rainbows shoot out your ass doesn’t mean everyone thinks that.”
It took a great feat of will to keep walking, not to turn around and let her temper loose. But once again, pricks like Granger only fed off response. Got off on thinking they were important.
And he wasn’t. Of course, as she slipped her key into her father’s lock, she wasn’t so sure she was dealing with important here, either.
He’s your father.
Who had put that voice there?
Feeling immeasurably tired, Tess announced her arrival. Her dad stepped out of the shadows of the hallway looking halfway decent. As if he’d showered and shaved and dressed this morning.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Tess.” He scratched a hand through his thinning hair. God, he was getting old. Looking old.
She swallowed at the lump in her throat. “I want Mom’s things.”
He shuffled into the kitchen. “All right.” He started pawing through cupboards, not making any eye contact or addressing all that stood between them.
“Where are they? What did you find?”
He shrugged. “I...was lying.” He stopped his puttering, although he kept his back to her. “I’m sorry, Tessie. It’s been a bad few days. I always miss her a little more in the spring.”
Which wasn’t true. Not exactly. He used that excuse a lot. I miss her a little more in the—seasons, months, days of the week sometimes finished the sentence. He was always missing her a little more.
Almost thirty years later. It didn’t seem right. How could you still miss someone so much after thirty years that you threw your life away to wallow in your misery? She had no reason to believe otherwise, but she had to believe, for her own sanity and hope for the future, that love didn’t mean ruin.
A
nd if it did, maybe she’d find a way to stay far, far away.
All of it made her vaguely uncomfortable, so she started edging backward toward the door.
“Abandoning me again?”
“I’m not abandoning you. You won’t help yourself so—”
“If you’ve come here to scold and yell and try to ship me off to a treatment center, I suggest you turn around and leave. That doesn’t help me.”
She meant to say she’d come for something of her mother’s, that he’d manipulated her here, but that didn’t come out. “What would help you?” Tears burned her eyes; the pleading note in her voice was desperate. Because she felt so damn desperate. “What would help? I’d do anything, Dad. Please. Please.”
“I’ve had enough of you berating me.” He opened the refrigerator, stuck his head deep inside. “Next time you get groceries, I want bagels.”
It was dismissal. It was...so many things she didn’t know what to do with. Why had he got her to come? Just so he could treat her like shit?
She needed to be stronger than this, so she did what she’d been doing for so many damn years it was just sad. “All right.” And turned to the door.
“You were supposed to save me, Tessie. I don’t know why you can’t.”
It’s not my fault. It is not my fault. She wanted to say the words aloud, but she couldn’t force them out. They stuck in her throat, in her mind, and she wished she could get them to stick in her heart.
She stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind her. She had things to do tonight that did not involve guilt trips she didn’t deserve. She had someone waiting for her. Someone who cared. Who didn’t blame her or hurt her.
That was the kind of relationship she needed to be reaching out for, pouring her effort into. She wouldn’t abandon her father. Couldn’t. But she didn’t need to be his crutch, either, running to him every time he beckoned with his lies and manipulation. And he didn’t need to be some bizarre crutch in assuaging her misplaced guilt.
No more manipulations. No more...
Who’re you kidding?
She trudged toward her car, any strength or anger or determination completely and utterly erased. How did he always manage to break her?
“Quick visit.”
Tess startled, whirled around to where Granger was lurking in the shadows. She’d never gotten a threatening vibe from him, just harmless dick behavior, but something about the way he was staring at her right now made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
“What do you want, Granger?”
“Nothing. Just can’t help but think you’re acting a bit shady, Camden. Maybe I should be watching you closer.”
She rolled her eyes, doing her best to loosen the tension in her shoulders. “I don’t know what your deal is lately, but I’d work it out in a different way than picking on someone who’s your superior.”
“I’d watch the superior act. It can be taken down a notch.”
If he wasn’t a fellow cop, a coworker, some kid she’d trained out of the academy, she’d have her hand on the butt of her weapon. As it was, she kept her hands loose and ready, but at her sides. “Try and threaten me again, kiddo. See what happens.”
She took a deep breath and turned toward her car, listening intently for sounds that he was following her. Though her gut remained coiled with tension and fear, she made it to her car, slid inside, all without Granger making a move.
But he was watching her, his gaze cold. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her shiver, so she casually pushed her car into Reverse.
And breathed a sigh of relief once she was driving down the road. Until a few minutes later she noticed a BCPD police cruiser behind her—346. Granger.
What the hell was this guy’s problem all of a sudden? Okay, it wasn’t exactly sudden. He’d always had a little problem with her being a woman, but she thought she’d gotten him over it. Sure, he might think she got special treatment, but he’d gotten over some of that antagonism.
Not so much anymore, apparently.
She turned off two streets earlier than she normally would, and Granger didn’t follow. You are being ridiculous. But everything in her gut—that little intangible thing she almost always believed—told her that something about that kid wasn’t right.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MARC STARED AT the clock and tried not to grind his teeth. An old bad habit he’d kicked a long time ago. Or thought he’d kicked. But with Tess fifteen minutes late, after last night, and the impending doom of actually having to talk about himself or his feelings, he felt the need to grind something.
When a knock sounded on the front door, Marc frowned at it. Tess didn’t knock. She slid right in. Who could this be? Maybe he could ignore it and it would go away.
Okay, no, he could never ignore a door knock. He looked through the peephole and panic froze him.
His parents. With Tess due any minute. Sound the alarm.
Trying to feign as much cheer as he could muster, Marc opened the door. “Mom. Dad. Hi. I didn’t know you were coming over.”
Mom moved in without waiting for an invitation or without him even moving out of the doorway. She pushed until she was inside, eyes assessing every inch.
“This place...is...something.” Mom wrinkled her nose, then sniffed the air. “You’re cooking.” Before he’d even closed the door behind Dad, Mom was in the kitchen smelling and tasting and making noises about his garlic use.
“Not much of a kitchen. And the outside of this place. My goodness. Why didn’t you buy a house like your sister? I’m sure Jacob could have pointed you in the right—”
“I don’t need a house,” Marc said as equitably as he could manage. “I wanted somewhere small.” Possibly somewhere not totally permanent. Just in case.
In case of what, he had no idea, but it hadn’t felt smart to buy. Not here.
Mom started adding random spices to the sauce he’d been simmering and Marc tried to find some way to get her out. Get them out. Tess and his parents...that was a thing he didn’t want mixing. It was bad enough he’d agreed to talk.
The door creaked open and Tess slid through, her back to the three of them as she closed and locked the door behind her. “You would not believe what just happened to me. Something is up with Gra—” The moment she turned around, looked up, gaze landing on his parents, she stopped speaking, mouth hanging open. Since he wasn’t beyond wide-eyed terror himself, no words came out of his mouth, either.
Mom was the first to break the silence. “Whoops. We barged right in and didn’t even give Marc a chance to tell us he...had plans. Don’t mind us, we’ll be right on our way.”
“No. No, you don’t have to leave on my account,” Tess squeaked. “Please, I’d feel terrible if you left.” Her gaze flicked to his briefly. “You must be Marc’s parents.”
“Yes, and you must be...”
“Boss lady,” Dad said with a sly smile.
“Oh.” Mom drew out the syllable.
“No ohs. This is my neighbor Tess.”
“I see. So not who Leah was talking about?” Mom’s mouth curved downward into a pout. But as quick as it occurred, it disappeared and she clapped her hands together. “Either way, it’s so good to make friends with the neighbors. Marc isn’t always good at the friend making. You must have really charmed him.”
“Mother.”
Mom waved a dismissive hand in his general direction. “Well, now, you know it’s true.” She smiled at Tess. “I take it you were the recipient of dinner, so we will just skedaddle.”
“But you’re visiting. You should—”
“Nonsense.” Mom grabbed Dad’s hand and started moving toward the door. “You two have your evening. We’ll see Marc tomorrow.” Mom got Dad to the door. “It was nice to meet you.”
He should be relieved and thankful they were getting the hell out of here instead of harassing Tess.
But it was just plain hard to accept that, knowing the reason behind their departure was that his life wasn’t half as important to them as Leah’s.
“A surprise visit, I take it,” Tess said, looking at him with a cocked head.
“Yup.” He turned to the food he was making, trying to make his expression, his feelings, everything as neutral as possible. “Not even sure why they came.”
“I’m sure they came because they wanted to see you.”
“Right,” he muttered. Before he could tell her dinner was ready and make it clear that he wasn’t going to be doing any of that talking he’d promised, Tess wrapped her arms around his waist from behind.
“They seem nice.”
“Nice. Yeah. They are.”
She squeezed. “You’re so unconvincing.” She rested her cheek against his back, and even though he knew she wanted him to explain himself, even though he knew she had to have been late because she’d visited her father, he relaxed.
It felt good to have someone wrap their arms around him. Good to be comforted, period.
But he wasn’t at all sure about Tess seeing that weakness, offering support, even if it felt good. So he pulled away.
“Grab a bowl. Dinner’s ready.”
“It smells amazing. You didn’t sneak something healthy in there, did you?” She sniffed at the casserole dish of spaghetti squash, but he stepped in front of it and took the bowl from her hands.
He scooped the shredded pieces of squash, covering it with the sauce he’d made, then handed it to her and nodded toward the little table he’d bought on his last day off. With her help. “Sit down and eat. Then tell me what you were going to tell me when you barged in.”
She let out a huff and slid into one of the chairs. She poked her fork into the bowl. “You did hide healthy stuff in here.”