Bend, Don't Break

by Skye Callahan

  Trent cleared his throat, and I focused on him again.

  “Stop racing through the possibilities,” he said. “Richards turned it down. Said we’d risk spooking them too soon.”

  “To be honest. I think they already know we’re on to something. And I don’t think they’re spooking, more like taunting.”

  “You don’t think the viaduct was a coincidence?”

  “Something doesn’t fit.” I shook my head, more to try and shake away the exhaustion. “I think we just walked away from a big chance. If they’re a step ahead of us, we’re not likely to catch another break.”

  I waved and headed for my car, my fingers wrapping around the newest key on my key ring. I hadn’t put Rose’s spare key back in the garden. It had been an hour since she’d texted me that she was home safe, and even though she’d probably be fast asleep by now, I needed to see her.

  I drove like the all-around paranoid person I’d become, zigzagging up side streets and lollygagging about until I was too exhausted to keep up the charade.

  Rose’s house was dark and quiet.

  You’re going to scare the bejabbers out of her.

  I tried sending a text message, but she probably turned her phone off before she went to bed, so despite knowing that it was a bad idea, I slid the key into the deadbolt and let myself in.

  There wasn’t even a sign of Trapper as I crept up the dark stairs and opened the bedroom door. Rose’s quiet breathing set my heart back to a near-normal pace.

  She’s fine, I told myself, leave her be and go home before you give her a heart attack.

  But I couldn’t. I knelt beside the bed and whispered her name.

  She moaned and her eyes twitched, but she didn’t wake.

  “Rose,” I repeated, brushing my fingertips through a strand of hair that fell across her forehead.

  Her eyes opened and she stared at me for a moment before jerking awake. “Is something wrong?”

  “I needed to see you.”

  “In the middle of the night?” She dropped her head. “Must’ve been bad.... Whatever you were called in for.”

  “Another heroin overdose.”

  She slid over and pulled back the covers, so I kicked off my shoes and took the invitation. As we readjusted she winced and buried her face in my shoulder.

  “Took my meds,” she said. “Unfortunately, they also give me the false belief that I can move my arm.”

  I rubbed her skin, carefully avoiding the injured part of her arm, until she relaxed again.

  “Was it someone from the Retreat again?” she whispered.

  “No. Someone who’d met Raini through a job workshop.”

  Every time her eyes reopened, it obviously took some effort, so I didn’t explain further. It could wait for another day if we ever discussed it at all. She didn’t need to know of further horrors courtesy of another day at my job.

  Chapter 15

  So Much for Pretending

  For one long week after another, we chased down endless or dead end leads. Kirk—or Bentley, whatever he wanted to call himself these days—had disappeared, along with most of his known contacts.

  The bastard either took a well-timed vacation or he knew we were onto him and went into hiding. Even Richards finally gave in and let us send one of our own out to request an escort for the night. After three attempts, he came up with nothing. Either the girls were also onto us or the whole thing was legit.

  We had no line on the heroin, the missing girls, or their connections to the escort company, and every person we interviewed gave us just enough to keep us digging, but never enough to get us where we needed to be.

  The only thing I looked forward to was the weekend—not that I believed I was going to get an uninterrupted day, but as burnout loomed even the promise of a brief lull was encouraging. I just needed a few hours to forget the frustration and reset.

  On Friday night, Rose was waiting for me at her house by the time I finally escaped another endless day at the station. She was stretched out on the couch with Trapper laying across her stomach and the television on across the room.

  “Hey, Sugar. How was your day?”

  “Better before I spent the last couple of hours worried about what had happened to you.” She tossed Trapper onto the floor and dusted the fur off her top.

  “I texted you so you wouldn’t worry,” I said, distracted by the packed bags waiting in the hallway. “Planning a trip?”

  “Really?”

  I put my hands up and glanced around, to see if she’d left another clue laying around.

  “I told you last week and again a few days ago,” she said. “I’m spending the weekend in Rockhill. There’s wedding planning to be done and dresses to try on.” She ended with a sardonic eye roll.

  Apparently, I’d been more distracted than I thought. “Sorry about that.”

  She snorted and shook her head, patting the couch next to her. “You can still check in on Trapper, right?” she asked. “Peter’s coming up to—”

  “Peter?” I fought to loosen my jaw as I spoke, but it didn’t want to move. Since we’d gotten word about Elizabeth’s death, the nightmares had worsened again, sending me back to the Retreat every night while every day gave me new fodder to add to the burning pit. I opted to stay in the doorway, away from Rose, where I hoped my anger would have room to melt away.

  “Yeah,” her eyes widened at my reaction. “The guy who’s marrying my sister. You’re really going to be angry about it when you didn’t even let me finish.”

  “Fine, then finish.” The edge to my voice only made the situation worse, but I was too tired to put on a façade.

  She jumped up to storm out of the room, but I grabbed her and spun her into the wall, holding her there with my bodyweight.

  “Stop being an ass,” she hissed through her teeth.

  I knew she was right, but I didn’t care. The thought of him, for whatever reason, made my entire body tingle with the need to remind her....

  She has a right to friends, I reminded myself. Trent was right, and I was overreacting over every single man she mentioned, talked to, or sat in the same room with. Even though she’d never given me a reason.

  “James,” she said softly. “He’s going to be up this way to pick up something for the wedding, and he’s giving me a ride down so I don’t have to drive alone. That’s it.”

  She didn’t struggle against me. Instead she stood there, right where I held her and let me. Even then, for the life of me, I couldn’t calm down.

  My fist connected with the wall a few inches from her side. She closed her eyes, but barely flinched.

  “I let you go once,” I whispered, then shoved myself away from her, and stormed through the hallway, grabbing my keys on the way to the door.

  “James. Where the fuck are you going?”

  “I’ll be back,” I called over my shoulder. I needed a place to blow off steam—I should have done it before coming home to her. Between the questions, rooting around through my memories, and imagining her with Peter, I felt like I could shoot missiles out of my fingertips.

  I felt guilty for leaving her. Stupid even. But I would have been even stupider to stay.

  I drove to the gym, it was the closest place with a punching bag. I didn’t even have anything to change into, but I checked in, picked up some gloves from the shop and went upstairs to meet the punching bag.

  I tore into it until my body couldn’t take anymore and my mind finally started to clear—whether from exhaustion or blissful surrender. Collapsing against the wall, I stared through the ten foot tall window to the blue sky outside. Now I had to do the hardest part. I had to fucking go back and face her—if she as still there.

  Her car was still in the driveway—a good sign, but a familiar black car also sat out front, parked on the street. Trent met me at the door, closing it behind him before I could get inside.

  “Before she rips you a new ass. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Which part?
”

  “You can’t get fucking up in arms every damn time she’s around another guy. How bad was the heart attack when you saw my car out front?”

  I swallowed, but my throat was dry and sticky from dehydration. “I’m fighting to keep everything together, and....”

  “You’re still not sure that you’re good enough for her?”

  I turned on him. “I never said that.”

  “Then why are you, James Carter, so fucking insecure about her spending the weekend with her family and an old friend? She’s yours, and if you don’t see that, you have to be blind.”

  I didn’t have an answer, unless I wanted to admit to losing my mind.

  “She called me because she was worried about you and wanted to know if I might be able to find you. I knew right were you were, so I decided to stay here and wait instead. I’m still not sure who the fuck needs protection from who.” He sighed and pushed open the door. “Once you two make amends how about we all have dinner—we’ll have Katie and Chad join us, too.”

  “Not sure about leaving us alone?”

  “I think you both might need a chaperone or three. A low-key change of scenery might do you both some good.”

  “I’ll ask, but I’m not sure she’ll—”

  Trent shoved me inside and closed the door. I turned and scowled at it for a moment—mostly because that gave me a short delay from the inevitable.

  Let the sucking up of the pride commence. I walked into the living room where she sat balled up on the edge of the couch. Instead of sitting next to her, I knelt on the floor in front of her. “I’m sorry, Rose.”

  “Why are you on the floor?” She nudged her foot against me.

  I rested my chin on her knee and she fought a smile, looking up at the ceiling instead of down at me. First point in my favor.

  “Will you get up, crazy man?”

  “Not until you’re not mad. I didn’t want to hurt you,” I admitted.

  “No, you punched the wall and still hurt me.” Her fingers slid against my scalp, gentle in contrast to the power of her words. “Maybe not physically, but—”

  “I know.”

  “You were already worked up when you got here—Trent kinda told me what’s going on at work.”

  “It’s a mess.” I closed my eyes. “Everything’s a mess.”

  “I know, but I need you to talk to me, James, and listen to me.” She shoved me back with her knee and slid to the floor beside me. “I enjoy talking to my sister, hearing about Peter and the baby. All the little things he does for her—it’s sweet and romantic. He’s coming up here to get a special ring custom made by a friend of his.”

  There wasn’t a drop of jealousy in her voice, just her gentle sweetness, maybe a bit of awe. It gave no reason for me to be jealous either—except the very things she spoke of were things I currently felt were out of my grasp.

  “I don’t know that I’m good at romantic.”

  “You are,” she laid her head against my shoulder, nestling against me as she talked. “But neither of us are going to be good at any of this relationship stuff if we keep shutting each other out.”

  She said we, but it was clearly pointed at me. I’d made a habit of shutting down or turning to anger over every conversation that pushed my comfort zone.

  Settling back into a regular routine was supposed to help me regain control over my life, but the last few hours told me otherwise. I could throw myself into a case all day, and shallow conversations with Rose at night. Even though we disguised it as getting to know each other better, I still kept up the façade, just to hide my remaining secret.

  Come clean, tell her. Of all people, she deserves to know. “I’m not sure what I’m capable of, especially where you’re concerned.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “I have dreams where I’m hurting you.” I closed my eyes, unable to face her expression as I continued. “It’s not always entirely unpleasant.”

  “As in?”

  Wasn’t that enough? I wasn’t keenly interested in going into a play-by-play. “As in wrapping my hand around your throat. Forcing you to do things you don’t want.”

  “You want to choke me?” she asked. Her voice was smooth, barely any evidence of emotion behind it—utterly calm, and it knocked me off my guard.

  “Choke—I,” I was the one imagining it and I didn’t even know what the hell I wanted. “I don’t know what I want.”

  She climbed to her knees in front of me and lifted my hand to her throat, but I refused to play along, it was too real.

  Staring me straight in the eye, she spoke with an even tone and no sign of hesitation. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  She looked at me like I’d just asked the stupidest question she’d ever heard. “You’ve had every opportunity in the world. I’ve pushed you, goaded you, risked your life when you didn’t have a whole lot of options, and if you didn’t hurt me then, why the hell would I think you’d do it now?”

  “I did at the bar, and almost today.”

  Her brows wrinkled and she shook her head. “You squeezed my hand too tight because you were thinking about something else. You weren’t doing it on purpose.”

  “And that’s the problem.”

  “Well, if you’re ever in a bar looking for a fight, I’ll be sure not to let you wrap your hand around my neck.”

  “Smart ass.”

  She tilted her head to the side and smiled. “Thought you were used to that by now.”

  Taunting. She trusted me too well.

  I flattened my hand around her neck, just to see what she’d do—what either of us would do.

  My hand tightened, but there was still no panic in her eyes. I grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled her down to face me, keeping my hand firmly around her neck, but she smirked. “What the hell are you doing to me?”

  “You’re still not hurting me.” She took a long breath. “I’m perfectly capable of handling whatever it is that you need.”

  “I don’t want you to.” Keeping my hand around her throat, I pushed her down to the floor beside me.

  Which one of us would crack first?

  “I do, James.” Somehow she remained relaxed under my grasp. “And if it’s too much—if you get out of hand—I’ll tell you.”

  “I’m bigger than you.” I leaned over her face, pressing her into the floor. “How much do you think you can do if I really get out of hand?”

  She shook her head—her lips pressed into a tiny line that I had the steadily increasing urge to kiss rather than fight.

  “How badly have you really wanted to hurt me?”

  “I don’t,” I said from pure instinct. I released her, groaning as I sat up again. “Remember—” I almost called it back. It was dangerous to ask her to dredge up memories. “In the kitchen, when you decided you wanted to submit—to give me what I wanted.”

  “And I called you out for getting riled up when I pushed back? That’s what you want?” She crawled back to me, head slightly lowered, eyes half closed, and her green eyes peeking up through her lashes.

  “All the stuff I couldn’t wait to get away from—plugs, and clamps, and watching you fight it before giving in. I still want it and I can’t reconcile all of that,” my voice was thick and rumbled from my throat.

  “You’re still trying to convince yourself that Kirk is gone,” she said. “Trying so hard that you don’t realize that the guy in front of me is all that I want and you can’t understand what on earth would possess me to still want you after everything that happened.”

  I was frozen in my place. Where was this coming from? She’d been watching me as closely as I watched her in the Retreat, seeing through my avoidance and anger.

  “You didn’t take the easy way out,” she continued. “Maybe not everyone will see it that way, because not everyone was in our situation, but I’ve had a lot of time to think and as far as I’m concerned, you did the right thing.”

/>   I shook my head, but she held my face between her palms until I couldn’t argue. Until all I could do was face her.

  “Do you trust me?” she asked.

  “Yes.” I finally unlocked my body and pulled her closer, into my lap.

  “Then, use that until you trust yourself again. Whatever war is going on in your head,” she sighed, “you’re just driving yourself crazy. I know because I’ve been there too. Telling myself that I never wanted to experience any of those things again, even though the thought of what you might do to me...,” she closed her eyes, but her face remained lax—unadulterated by whatever she was going to say.

  When her eyes opened again, they pulled me into their depths, letting me inside her in ways physical closeness couldn’t accomplish. “You pushed me to put my trust in you—in ways I’d never trusted anyone. I still ache for that—for your ability to take me to places I never imagined. I’m not a big fan of pain, but what you give me is different.”

  “I’m not even in control of myself, and you trust me?”

  “Are you out of control or just second guessing your instinct because you think it’s off?”

  I splayed my hands against her back and watched as she arched into me. Taking any motion and pressure I gave her, letting me control her body with a single touch. “Since when are you so good at reading me?”

  “I had a month with nothing to do except study you,” she came back down to earth and poked me in the chest. “Then a month to stew on those studies. And weeks with cranky detective you since then. I guarantee that whatever it is you think you’re still protecting me from—I don’t need it.”

  “No?”

  “No, James. I stayed with you. I schemed with you. I played my part for you. For the other girls. I killed a man—” She shuddered and the tears began instantly.

  “Rose.” I wanted to pull her back out of the memories and chase it all away, but she put two fingers across my lips silencing me.

  “Let me finish. I let Ross and his friends use me. I watched you get a blow job from the only girl there who was my friend. I sat on that table while Milo tortured us—while you drove the pain away in front of everyone. I chose you.” Even though her chest shook with emotion, she raised her voice even more. “I chose to live. And I dare anyone to tell me that either of us made the wrong choices.”