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He pressed his hand over hers. “I’ve loved you for so long, my Sara, but I never dreamed that I would hear those three sweet words.”
“Then I’ll say them again. I love you. And I don’t want you to go.”
“Am I?”
“You’ll find a way out of this,” she said, tapping the band around his chest. “And when you find Tasha, you’ll take her and run.”
“I will. I’m sorry, but I have no wish to live my life in a cell, and we both know the prosecutor is excellent.”
“Luke, don’t joke.”
“Then come with me.”
“You know I can’t.”
“Star-crossed,” he said, cupping her cheek. “Our first love was stolen from us. This time, we’ll be yanked apart.”
“But we always find each other.”
He brushed a tear off her cheek. “Yes, my love, we do.”
* * *
Sara spent the next day at the office dealing with the mundane, which, after viewing the dead so often, had been a welcome change.
Afterwards, she forced herself not to go straight to Luke’s, and to instead join Petra for a drink at Probation. “It seems like you’ve disappeared on me,” her friend said when Sara slid into her chair, then gratefully took a sip of the whiskey that was waiting for her at the table. “Did Division 6 swallow you up?”
“You could say that,” she admitted. “I wish I could talk more about it, but—”
“Covert division, big secrets, yada yada. I get it.”
“Trust me, you don’t.”
Petra shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.” She hesitated, then leaned forward. “Listen, Sara, there’s something—oh, never mind.”
Sara frowned. “What’s going on?”
Petra shook her head. “Nothing. Really. It’s just that I worry about you. That’s all. And,” she added, pointing a French fry at her, “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” Sara said, then shook her head. “Honestly, Iwouldmiss you, but I haven’t had time. I’m working pretty much twenty-four/seven.”
“Don’t you dare burn out. Work in some chill time at least.” She paused, then grinned as she studied Sara’s face. “Oh. My. God. You are such a liar.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not working around the clock.” Petra leaned in and lowered her voice. “Not unless wild sex is part of your job description.”
“Petra!”
“You’re going to deny it?”
She felt her cheeks burn, and Petra laughed so loud the guy reading the paper two tables away turned and gaped at them. “It’s Luke. The guy from the night of the Stemmons’ verdict. We’ve gotten, well, serious.”
“Ha. I knew it.” She popped two more fries in her mouth. “Tell me everything.”
Sara didn’t fully comply with that request, but she told Petra as much as she could, egged on by Petra’s claim that she needed to live vicariously.
They’d stayed out until almost ten, laughing and talking, and by the time she got to her condo, Sara knew that she had to do better. She couldn’t lose herself entirely in her work; not if it meant sacrificing her friendships.
