“What?”
“You’re punishing her.” Thayer nodded slowly as she came to the realization. “Like the parent of a young child who runs into the street after their ball and nearly gets hit. They’re just acting on instinct, but that parent watching is so terrified of what might have happened they lash out in anger, scaring them in the hopes they never do it again.” She cringed inwardly at comparing Corey to an impulsive child, but she could see her words hit home.
Collier had the decency to look shamefaced. He cleared his throat and covered his emotion by leaning over, opening a drawer. He set Corey’s wallet, phone, and glasses on the desk in front of her.
Thayer picked up her glasses, frowning as she glanced around the obnoxiously lit room, fluorescent lights humming and flickering. She stood and snatched up Corey’s things, jamming them into her purse. “Take me to her—now.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
They took the stairs to the basement. The floor was cement and the walls yellow painted cinderblock. It was cold and harsh. The lights were bright and unforgiving, making everyone she passed a sickly color.
There was a bench bolted to the floor with a man cuffed to it by one wrist. He was slumped over, head on his chest, and Thayer had to stop herself from reaching out to take his pulse. He smelled like vomit, booze, and urine, but she could see the steady rise and fall of his chest.
Jim led them through a swinging door and into a small room with an officer behind a desk, a camera set up in one corner against a white wall with black hash marks along one side marking heights.
“Sarge.” The officer nodded. “What can I do for you?”
“I need someone out of holding. The woman I brought in an hour ago.”
The officer nodded. “The drunk?”
Thayer shook her head sharply. “She wasn’t drunk.”
“Corey Curtis,” Collier specified.
“Yeah, I know.” The officer nodded and tapped on his keyboard. “The tall one. She started puking all over the place twenty minutes after you left. Then she passed out in the cell. Maintenance just left a few minutes ago after cleaning it up.”
Thayer’s heart lodged in her throat, her voice panicked. “Get me in there, now.”
“Buzz us in.” Collier grasped the handle of the heavy steel door. “Open her cell.”
She could hear male voices to the left, echoing around a cavernous space, but he guided her down a hallway to the right. She heard the loud echoing clank of metal as a cell door was released and she rounded a corner opening into the holding area.
Thayer’s breath caught, tears springing to her eyes at Corey huddled on her side on a narrow bench facing the wall. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself. The lights were harsh and the cell smelled musty.
“Corey, I’m here.” She knelt next to her and placed a hand against her cheek. Her skin was pale and clammy and her breathing shallow, her eyes tightly closed.
Thayer whipped off the sweatshirt she still wore and covered her, but Corey didn’t give any indication she was aware. She rummaged in her purse for her medication and the bottle of water, wanting to be prepared, but desperately hoping she wouldn’t need it. She turned Corey’s head and pressed the meds past her lips, angling the water to her mouth, getting it into her.
“What’s wrong with her?” Collier asked. “Do you want me to call an ambulance?”
“They can’t help her.” She glared at him. “It’s a migraine—a bad one. Effects of the head injury. They’re triggered when she’s under extreme physical or emotional stress or from exposure to bright, harsh light. What the hell did you think the glasses were for anyway?”
“I didn’t know.” His eyes were worried. “She never said.”
“Help me get her up. We need to get her out of here. Is there somewhere we can take her? Somewhere we can make dark and she’ll be comfortable?”
“Yeah.” Collier stepped forward. “I got her.” He slid his hands beneath her shoulders and behind her knees lifting her in his arms. Corey groaned, cracking her eyes, dull with pain and exhaustion.
“It’s all right, sweetheart.” Thayer was immensely grateful in that moment for Jim Collier’s size and strength as he effortlessly lifted her five-foot-ten-inch frame.
“Sarge?” the officer asked in surprise as they moved hurriedly past him.
“I’ll do the release paperwork later,” Collier said and led them to an elevator.
Back on the second floor they were fortunate not to run into anyone else as Collier led them down a hallway off the main room and kicked open the door to a dark room. “It’s for families or interviews with children.”
The room was small but there was a full sofa and chair, table and small refrigerator with microwave and coffeemaker on top. In the corner was a plastic bin, overflowing with worn toys and coloring books.
“Can you get her down on her stomach?” Thayer asked as she adjusted the lights to a level that allowed her to see but wouldn’t aggravate Corey.
Collier shifted her in his arms as he lowered her to the sofa and carefully rolled her onto her front, turning her head gently to face out. “What can I do?”
“You’ve done enough,” Thayer said sharply. She perched on the edge of the sofa and raised Corey’s T-shirt, before coating her hands in peppermint oil. “Please see we aren’t disturbed.”
“Sergeant Collier, a word, please,” a woman’s voice commanded from the hallway.
Thayer stilled her hands against Corey’s shoulders and turned at the sharp voice to see Jim slip quickly out of the room and close the door. With little other sound but Corey’s irregular breathing, she could hear the exchange well enough. She wished she could close out the voices, not wanting to deal with anyone else’s anger or problems tonight.
He began. “Not here.”
“Here’s fine.” The woman went on, likely unaware she was being overheard. “Sergeant, you seriously crossed the line tonight. You could make those garbage charges stick if you really wanted, but you will do it without my help.”
“You wanna dial it down a notch, Officer Austin?” Jim growled, and Thayer suspected it was more concern over being overheard than over her hostile rebuke.
“No, sir, I do not. I will accept an official insubordination reprimand in my jacket if that’s what you feel is necessary, and if it torpedoes my chance of advancement, so be it. I will not be silent on matters of abuse of power. Arresting Corey the way you did and in front of Thayer and her friends, after the help they have provided this department and everything they’ve been through wasn’t just wrong, it was cruel and I’m ashamed to have been a part of it.”
Thayer released a slow breath and resumed her massage. She had assumed from the woman’s tone it was a commanding officer but now knew she was listening to Steph Austin vent her rage against Jim. There was a long pause and Thayer tilted her head toward the door, curious now.
“Did you know she gets migraines since her head injury?” Jim asked.
“Not specifically. She hides it pretty well but it’s obvious to anyone paying attention she’s not completely healed.” Steph’s voice lowered but lost none of its edge. “Why?”
“She got one after I left her in holding, after I humiliated her on the street, hauled her in and took her glasses that help block out the fluorescent light.” He said it loudly enough that Thayer suspected he wanted her to hear him take responsibility. “The booking officer assumed she was drunk. She was throwing up and passed out in the cell.”
“Jesus. Is Thayer here?”
“Yeah. She must have expected this might happen and came with some pills for her. She was barely conscious when we got to her. I carried her up here.”
“Where?”
“In there.”
Thayer heard the door handle turn.
“No,” Jim said. “Not right now. Doc Reynolds will take of her.”
“I should get back out there,” Steph said after a long moment of silence or conversation she couldn’t hear. “We
still haven’t found these assholes.”
“No. You’re off the clock.”
“You’re benching me?”
“Go home and get some sleep, Austin. That’s an order. You look like hell. I’ll see you back here in the morning.”
“Yes, sir.”
Thayer stood and stretched, feeling her joints pop from the few hours of sleep she got in the chair. She moved back to the sofa and perched next to Corey who was sleeping deeply and comfortably on her side. She brushed hair off her face and kissed her temple.
Thayer had spent nearly an hour massaging her back and neck with oil until she finally felt her muscles loosen. The pain must have been excruciating, and the thought of Corey going through that alone in a jail cell made her want to scream in rage.
Instead she busied herself investigating what the room had to offer. The small fridge held several bottles of water and juice and a couple small cartons of milk. There was a tiny freezer and some popsicles. There was a small cabinet over the microwave that had coffee and filters so she set about making a pot. She could use one and she suspected Corey would need one soon.
There was a soft knock at the door and she heard the unmistakable sound of Jim’s voice from the other side. She cracked the door to see him looking as beat as she felt. She moved away from the door to let him in.
“You okay, Doc, er, Dr. Reynolds?” he asked, unable to meet her eyes.
“Forget that, please, Jim,” Thayer said. “I’m too tired to be angry right now.”
“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “Everything you said. You were right.”
Thayer pressed her lips together seeing the profound remorse etched across his face. “I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”
His eyes moved past her to Corey and his breath shuddered with a level of emotion Thayer had never heard from him. “I don’t know where to start.”
Thayer gave his arm a squeeze. “Just talk to her, Jim.” Thayer scooped up her purse. “I’m going to find a washroom.”
“Just down the hall on the left.” He handed her a visitor’s pass to clip on and gestured down the hall.
Thayer paused at the door, unsure if leaving Corey alone with him was the right thing to do. She knew she would wake up disoriented and weak, but she hoped if they talked and Corey didn’t hold back, there would be a chance they could salvage their friendship.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Corey’s head felt foggy and her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton as she struggled to open her eyes. She was crashed out on something soft but she didn’t recognize it as either her bed or Thayer’s. She smelled coffee close by, much too close unless she was sleeping in the kitchen.
She groaned and dragged her eyes open. It was dim and she had no memory of how she got here or where here was. She pushed herself up on shaky arms.
“Go slow,” a deep voice rumbled and she looked around, her head spinning with the movement. Her gaze finally found Collier, a mug of coffee in his hand. She sat up on the sofa, dropping her head into her hands. Her world was spinning in what she recognized as a post migraine fog of confusion and medication.
“Are you all right?”
She raised her head, unsure how to answer as the memories of last night and what he put her through came rushing back, up until the point they arrived at the station. After that she had no memory of what had happened. She saw her phone, wallet, and glasses on the small table in front of her. “I need to call Thayer.” Her voice was rough and her hand shaky as she reached for the phone.
“She’s here. Been here all night. She just went to the washroom.”
Corey nodded and dropped back against the sofa closing her eyes. “Am I still under arrest?”
“No. I dropped all the charges. It’s like it never happened.”
“Like it never happened. Yeah, just like that.”
He poured another mug of coffee and set it on the table in front of her. “I meant there will be no record of your arrest.”
“I know what you meant.” She eyed the coffee from beneath her lashes. “I need some water first. Is there water?”
He produced a bottle and opened it for her before setting it down and taking the chair across from her.
She was shaking so badly that she had to hold the bottle with two hands to keep from spilling it all over herself. It must have been a bad one. “Where are we?” she asked after draining half of it.
“At the station. In one of the family interview rooms.”
“How did I get here?”
He looked away from her, his jaw clenching. “I carried you.”
She breathed a humorless laugh. “That must have really fluffed your fucking ego, huh?”
His eyes snapped back to her. “Why didn’t you tell me about your migraines?”
“When was I going to do that? Before or after you arrested me?”
“If I had known I wouldn’t have—”
“You wouldn’t have what? Put your hands on me in anger? Pushed me around? Fucking handcuffed me? I bet you fucking loved that.”
He swallowed audibly and cleared his throat. “I’m not going to insult you by asking for your forgiveness for what I did to you, but I hope you will, at least, hear my apology.”
She took several deep breaths to try and calm down, or she’d roll right into another migraine. She tried to pick up the coffee but she couldn’t hold the mug, even in two hands, without sloshing it everywhere.
He plucked it deftly from her hands and poured a third of it into his own mug before handing it back to her. She eyed him curiously, as he seemed so lost in thought about what he was about to say that he didn’t even notice his act of kindness. “I’m listening.” Corey sat back, cradling the more manageable mug to her chest.
“I know we like to pretend we don’t care about each other. I think you know that’s not true—at least for me. You may feel differently, especially after last night.” He looked up, seemingly expecting some kind of comment.
Corey offered a small shrug, too tired and angry to help him out.
“I think you are…remarkable. And I’m proud to call you my friend.”
Corey’s brows rose at him in surprise.
“I also think you are pigheaded and reckless and when I learned you ran after those punks like some lunatic, putting yourself in the line of fire like at the construction site...”
She didn’t have the reserves to guess what he was trying to say so she stayed silent, watching him and trying to get a handle on her own ragged emotions.
“I understand your anger and your instinct to protect those you love. Hell, I share it and that’s why when I heard you were in danger again, I didn’t even have to imagine what that looks and feels like because I already know and I just...” He cleared his throat several times. “The world is a better place with you in it. Jesus, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Her brain was so fried she was having a hard time picking apart words so uncharacteristic of him, but if she didn’t know better, he just told her he loved her, but she couldn’t hear it yet. “You used your power to hurt me.” She could barely speak around the emotion clogging her throat and the intense feeling of betrayal. “You wouldn’t talk to me or even look at me the whole way here, and then you just left me alone in a fucking jail cell.”
His head hung. “Christ, Corey, I—”
“Don’t you dare fucking call me that,” she snarled, knowing he only ever used her first name to express affection for her like a term of endearment. She couldn’t handle it. Not from him. Not now. Her trembling hands were too much even for half a mug of coffee and she set it on the table with a clatter and splash of liquid. “What do you want from me?”
He looked up at her again. “A chance to set things right with you. To earn your trust back.”
Like every day after a migraine that needed medication, her emotions were exposed and fragile, and Collier arresting her one moment and begging her forgiveness the next was too much. Her humiliation w
as complete when she started to cry silently. She swiped furiously at the hot tears streaming down her face. She was enraged at her weakness in front of him, and couldn’t bear the sympathy and regret in his eyes.
“I’ll find Doc.” His voice was hoarse with emotion.
“I’m here.” The door opened immediately letting them both know Thayer had been just outside the door.
Corey saw Thayer and the love and tenderness in her golden eyes and came completely undone as Thayer crossed the room to sit next to her, wrapping her in a strong embrace, stroking her back and whispering soothing words. They never heard the door close as Collier left.
After a few minutes Corey took a shuddering breath and pulled away. “I need to speak with Collier again.”
Thayer shook her head. “I think you two could use some time away from each other.”
“It’s not about me,” Corey insisted.
Thayer thumbed away the last of her tears. “You’re exhausted, sweetheart. It can wait.”
“No, it can’t wait. I saw them. I remember and I need to give him a description and…Rachel?”
Thayer smiled gently. “She’s okay. A few sutures. Maybe a badass scar on her arm. Dana left me a message this morning. Rachel is already back to work supervising the cleanup and repairs.”
Corey breathed in relief. “That sounds about right.”
“No one else went to the hospital. Some people were pretty shaken up but otherwise fine. The girls saw what happened to you, though, and are worried. I’ve already texted to say you’re all right and not in any trouble. I kind of got the impression Rachel was disappointed she wasn’t going to get to visit you in prison.”
Corey laughed and it felt really good. She already knew she would forgive Collier. Like him she was no stranger to mishandling her emotions. But not today and probably not tomorrow. She was too raw. “I need to talk to him before the memory fades.”
Thayer reached for Corey’s glasses. “Put these on. It’s worse than the hospital out there.”
She blinked and squinted as her eyes struggled to adjust to the harsh light and was assaulted by the cacophony of voices, telephones ringing, and clacking of fingers on keyboards. She swayed slightly, feeling weak, but steadied when Thayer’s arm went around her waist. “Holy shit.” She breathed as she looked around at the men and women busy protecting and serving. “It’s like a fucking dog pound in here.”
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