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“It’s our daughter’s birthday tomorrow.” I pull back to study her face. The long angles of her jaw, and the deep wells under her eyes that were once full and plump and perfect. “You’ll be at the party, right?”
Her lips curl into a sweet smile that helps band-aid my heart, for a moment at least. “I’ll be at the party.” Stepping back, she unravels my arms from her and holds my hands until they’re down by my sides. Then stepping back, she breaks our connection and starts toward the end of the street.
“Don’t you have a bad guy to hunt down?” She stops at the corner and glances over her shoulder. “A man with a gun?”
“How do you—”
“I watched you on the news all night.” She swipes the pad of her thumb along her cheek to sweep up a stray tear. “I saw you holding that woman, Charlie.Fifi,” she murmurs slowly, as though to enunciate each syllable. “Mia told me her name is Fifi.”
I groan. “Jada, I didn’t—”
“It’s funny—well, not really, but…” she sighs. “You held her the way you used to hold me.” With a sad look and a slump of her shoulders, she turns in the street and leaves me.
Alone. Fucking tired. And questioning everything.
Was Iholding Sera last night at the bank? Was it too much? Too friendly? Was Archer right that I focused on Seraphina, and left Minka to die?
My phone bleats in my pocket, demanding my attention be placed on something other than Jada. Or Sera. Or Minka. Or Mia. The ringtone grates on my nerves, until the thoughts I’d managed to scrape together are released again, floating into the air, out of reach.
Exhausted, I fish the phone from my pocket and find Captain Bower’s name flashing back at me. So I swipe to answer and, pressing my back to the brick wall, I close my eyes. “This is Detective Fletcher.”
“Detective. This is Captain Bower. Are you at the hospital?”
“Uh… no.” I open my eyes again and study the small side street I’ve wound up on. The brick walls on every side, the potholed road. “I’m around. Did you need something, Captain?”
“Yeah.” His tone is hard. Biting. “I have a problem, Detective. And I’m gonna need your complete and entire honesty before I can proceed. Do you understand me?”
I hesitate as anxiety rolls through my stomach and almost brings me to my knees in my weakened state. “Of course, Captain. Honesty. Always.”
“I’ve heard whispers, Detective. About Detective Malone that now have Internal Affairs scratching around.”
“IA?” I shoot my gaze along the alleyway in terror. “What do they want?”
“Do you recognize the name Anthony Garzman?” he asks instead.
“Y-yeah. Arch and I have used him as an informant in the past. He spends his time at a local bar, drinking away every cent he’s earned selling intel to cops.”
“Right,” Bower grumbles. “So why was Garzman in my office this morning, claiming that Malone has purposely and maliciously slept on information provided regarding one of your open actives?”
ARCHER
“Aubs!?” A panicked voice echoes along the hall. “Aubree Grace! Where are you?”
“Eli?” Aubree shoves up from Tim’s knee, knocking Minka’s arm with her fast movements, and turns just as her older brother fights with the curtain at the door and pushes through with a grunt of exasperation.
“Eli!” Fat tears spring from Aubree’s blue eyes as she races around Tim’s feet and throws herself into her brother’s arms so he swallows her up in a hug.
Eli Emeri is legions taller than his sister. Six feet and a few inches to her petite five-five. So when he wraps her up tight and lifts so her feet dangle off the floor, he doesn’t even huff from exertion.
What he does is cry. Loud, howling sobs that peel layers from my stomach, and drain Tim’s face white as he watches on helplessly.
“I tried calling you,” Eli exclaims. “I tried a zillion times since I saw the news, but you wouldn’t answer.”
“I don’t have my phone.” She wraps her arms over his shoulders and buries her face against his chest.
She’s vulnerable with him in a way she isn’t with Tim; she lets down her walls and meets her brother’s storming emotions with her own. But with Tim, she’s quiet. Solid. Strong.
He doesn’t get to see this side of her.
