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14
Eric
It would be good if we knew whether Carlotti was aware of my investigation, but if I gave into Ambrose now, he’d think he could control all my decisions. “I need to at least go in since I wasn’t around yesterday. My deputies will need to report into me.”
“Then you’ll come home?”
“Then we’ll see.”
“I don’t like it. Carlotti could strike anytime, and I need to be with you.”
“I’ll stay in town if at all possible. Anything that comes up out in the parish, I’ll send someone else unless there’s no choice.”
“I don’t—”
“I’m going to do my job.” I kept my voice calm but firm.
He scowled and waved me away. “Go get dressed.”
When I walked out a few minutes later in my uniform, Ambrose grinned. “Do I get to fuck you in that later?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? The bad boy and the cop in uniform.”
Ambrose shook my head. “Jesus, we’re such a fucking cliché.”
“No. Nothing about us is cliché. You… There’s no one else like you.”
“Don’t say things like that or you will not make it to work.”
He grabbed my uniform shirt and yanked me to him for a kiss that took my breath. I clung to him, not sure I could stay on my feet if I didn’t. I’d never been kissed like that, like I was someone’s lifeline.
“Don’t you dare get yourself hurt out there,” he growled.
“Same goes for you.” I didn’t think for a second he was just going to sit around all day.
“I’ll be fine.”
“You’ll just be here all day, knitting and petting Tubby?”
“I can knit, you know, though I’m better at crochet.”
I should have known he’d have crafting skills. “Goodbye, dear. Have dinner on the table when I get home.”
Ambrose glared at me. “I can cook too.”
“I have no doubt.”
“You better check in with me often. Don’t make me have to come looking for you.”
The thought of how that would go made me shudder. “I’ll do what I can.”
“Traffic tickets, cats in trees, and elderly people making noise complaints can be dealt with by someone else.”
“Occasionally we do have serious crime here.”
“That’s what you should stay away from.”
“Ambrose.”
“For today, all right?”
He looked scared, and I hated that. “Okay.”
I left before he could convince me to give in and stay home. I worked at the station for most of the morning, but in the early afternoon, a call came in about a break-in near Carlotti’s drop-off. Both the deputies on duty were out on other calls. I didn’t have a choice but to take it. I texted Ambrose as I headed out. He called me a second later, but I didn’t take the call. I had to do my job whether he liked it or not.
When I arrived on the scene, everything was silent. The front door of the small house stood open. Where was the woman who’d called in? Was she inside? Our dispatcher had told her to get out if she thought someone might still be in the house, but she’d ended the call then.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Something was very wrong.
I should call for backup, but I knew there wasn’t anyone available.
For a moment, I considered calling Ambrose, but he needed to lie low, and I couldn’t bring the Theriots in on official police business.
You did before.
And look where we were now.
I kept my hand on my weapon as I slowly approached the house. The sense that something was wrong increased with every step.
But if the woman who called was in there, injured or at the mercy of whoever had broken in, I couldn’t wait. She was depending on me.
15
Ambrose
Eric was in trouble. I knew it. I couldn’t explain how, but I did.
He’d checked in with me midmorning, but then he’d sent a text about going out on a call and refused to respond to my attempts to contact him.
I called him again. No answer. What the fuck was he doing—taking care of police business or lying dead in a ditch killed by Carlotti’s men because he was too damn stubborn to let me protect him?
I should have demanded he stay home. I should have tied him to the bed. That would have made for a much better day than this sick worry.
This wasn’t like me. I’d never been this anxious except maybe before my first mission as a Green Beret. For the first time in a long time, I wished I had someone to talk to. I needed reassurance one way or another. Did I sit my ass down and trust him to be careful, or did I go out there and drag his ass home, praying he was still in one piece?
Dax was the only person I could imagine explaining this to, but I didn’t want to bother him. I’d texted him a bare bones version of what was happening with Carlotti and insisted he continue with the cruise. What I needed wasn’t going to work via text, but I wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to take a call wherever he was, somewhere out at sea.
