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There’s no doubt in my mind that she hasn’t seen a bed in over thirty-six hours or even longer. It’s a testament to her desire to want to solve this case, to get some form of peace and justice for Elizabeth Burr. I can’t pull from memory many missions that left me hyperfocused and unable to sleep until there was some form of resolution. It’s no different for her with this particular case, but maybe even that is an assumption. There’s a chance she’s like this with every case she’s worked.
Her hand lifts several more inches when I step closer to her as she approaches. I know not to risk her pulling her weapon. I wouldn’t just stand here and let the woman shoot me, but at the same time, it also hits me that she’s fearful of me. It’s either that or she feels the need to assert some form of power.
If the latter is the case, is it because I was the one in control the night we spent together? Does she regret the power exchange now?
“Lennox,” I say, watching as her eyes dart left and right as if she’s deciding which way to run even though her feet carry her closer as each second ticks by.
As a trained professional in reading body language, I know she’s struggling between the decision of fight or flight, but the fucked-up thing is she doesn’t need either where I’m concerned.
Even after having evidence that I wasn’t involved with that woman’s murder, she’s still afraid of me.
I’ve been inside this woman, had her lips wrapped around my cock, her tongue teasing the barbells along the underside of my shaft. I know what the clench of her cunt feels like when she orgasms, and yet she’s scared of me.
I hate knowing that.
I hate that she can’t accept the evidence she’s been provided.
I hate that her apology was forced.
I hate that I want so badly for her to drop to her knees and beg for my forgiveness.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I assure her.
“Is that what you said to—” She snaps her mouth closed, her eyes darting to the side as if the beginning of her response was an involuntary reaction.
Instead of lashing out or reminding her of my innocence, I step to the side, giving her access to her vehicle, and walk away.
The woman has clearly made up her mind about me, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I stand at the entrance to Jake’s, my hand on the door pull, and wait for her to drive away. I know she thinks I was only waiting for her to give her a hard time, but I needed to look into her vehicle before she got back outside. Max was able to gain access to the video evidence that exonerated me, and we concluded that the man who assaulted and killed Elizabeth Burr was either waiting for her in the car or made contact with her in the parking lot. I didn’t want the same thing to happen to Lennox, despite her not being appreciative of my presence.
It's eating me up inside to know that had I accompanied Elizabeth to her car, things would’ve gone a very different way. I know what happened wasn’t my fault, but that hasn’t stopped the guilt from seeping inside of me.
I don’t reenter Jake’s until after her taillights disappear down the road. I’d like to think the woman is capable of handling herself in dangerous situations. Before finding out I was more than likely drugged behind Jake’s when I went to take a piss, I would’ve argued that no individual person could’ve taken me down.
The bar seems too loud when I walk back inside. I didn’t think it was the best idea to come back here after what I went through today, but the guys urged me to let go of what happened.
I hold a finger up to Rochelle, indicating I need another drink. It only takes a minute for her to slide a tall glass of icy soda in my direction.
“Thanks, doll,” I tell her before walking back to the group.
I sit for another hour, listening to the conversations going on around me. I’m not exactly being excluded, but I’m also not as involved as I normally would be. This day seems like it’s been a month long, and I’m looking forward to falling into my bed at the clubhouse, with the hopes that tomorrow will be better.
“Are you heading to the clubhouse?” I ask Boomer as I stand, ready to get the hell out of here.
The man looks a little sheepish as he looks toward Drake who joined us at the table not long after his shift ended. I have to remind myself that Boomer’s announcement about being involved with Drake just happened this morning despite it feeling like last month’s news already.
