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“That,” Bishop says when I turn back around, beer in hand, and pull out the chair across from him. “Is why we need to talk.”
“What?” I ask, twisting the top off and raising the glass bottle to my lips.
“The look on your face. The one that says you aren’t impressed and would rather run out of the room.”
I have two choices—lie and tell him he’s reading me wrong or tell the truth and finally air out all of this shit.
“Are you telling me escape is an option?”
Stormy and Legacy both chuckle, but I still can’t find the humor in any of it.
“I want to apologize to you.”
I tilt my head to the side in confusion, this taking a much different turn than I expected.
“I was quick to judge you. I formed an opinion of you based on only a handful of details instead of asking questions. I know what Cerberus stands for. I also know that Kincaid hand picks every one of us. I should’ve been more concerned, should’ve asked one of the other guys about it when we found you damn near passed out that first night we got here.”
I swallow. He’s talking about that night.
Legacy and Stormy grumble their agreements.
“I can’t take it back, but I want you to know that I made a mistake thinking you were the type of guy that gets wasted every chance you get. Because of that snap judgment, nothing was done to try and track down who drugged you.”
I take a deep breath. I commend him for apologizing and doing so in front of others rather than pulling me to the side and making his confession in private.
“I shouldn’t have been distracted,” I mutter. “She’s dead because of me.”
“She’s dead because some psychopath chose to hurt her. That isn’t on you.”
“I should’ve been able to stop the person from drugging me.”
“And you know damn well that could happen to any of us,” Stormy argues.
“Being on and vigilant all the time is impossible,” Legacy adds.
“Could happen to any of us,” Stormy repeats.
“We were just getting ready to head to Jake’s,” Bishop says. “How about you join us?”
I know what the offer means. We’ve ended up at the bar, going separately, many times since that night I was unknowingly drugged. His offer means a lot.
“Sure,” I tell him as I stand.
***
I don’t know if the line of marked and unmarked cars outside of Jake’s are for a show of force or if something more is going on, but no one has their lights on.
“Busy as hell in there,” I mutter as Stormy pulls into a parking spot.
Legacy rubs his hands together in glee. “Think all the badge bunnies are in there?”
Bishop chuckles and shakes his head.
Cops and Cerberus at Jake’s? Makes it good for business and increases the night’s choices for those looking for some company.
Without hesitation, I scan the entirety of the bar, looking for one person only, feeling the slump of my shoulders when I don’t spot her.
I walk toward Colton, knowing they both work in Homicide.
“Hey, man,” I say, tapping him on the shoulder and offering my hand when he turns to acknowledge me. “Is Lennox coming?”
He’s slow to respond as if he’s trying to determine what my intentions are.
Colton isn’t Cerberus, but he’s married to Dominic’s daughter. Dominic and club president Kincaid are brothers, and that’s a tight connection to the club, if you go by the old saying that blood is thicker than water.
“I doubt she’ll show,” Colton finally says.
“Yeah,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck and trying not to show how disappointed I am over the news. “She needed a little downtime. I think the bags under her eyes have bags.”
Colton scoffs. “I doubt she’s getting rest. The woman never sleeps. If there’s a case, she’s got all of her energy tied up in it.”
I’m not surprised by his words. I determined the very same thing when I saw her this morning, but it doesn’t make me happy. The woman is exhausted. She was literally falling asleep at her desk.
“If she doesn’t take some time to recharge, it’s going to get dangerous,” I say. I thank Bishop when he walks up and hands me a beer.
Colton waits until Bishop walks to the tables in the far back corner where Cerberus always congregates. We both watch as several women get up and make their way in that direction. Several of the plain clothes cops that were in here have already walked up to the bar and are closing out their tabs. It seems the competition isn’t exactly welcomed.
“Ugly,” Colton says on a sigh, shaking his head as if he feels like he misspoke.
“What?” I prod, wanting to ask a million questions about the woman but also torn with wanting to learn everything I can from her personally.
She shut me down earlier, and although there’s a part of me that is grateful because I’m not a man to get into anything remotely resembling a relationship with someone, it also left me feeling a lot rejected.
