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Then she disappears, leaving me stunned, stumped, and frozen in place. The heavy hotel room door slams shut, the sound echoing around the room, leaving mussed sheets, fuzzy memories, and an empty silence in its wake.
That’s the day I vowed to leave Vegas and never return. But before I did, I went to the station and amended my statement, taking full responsibility and submitting my resignation. Then I left the city and the events that happened in my rear view and didn’t look back.
The scene with Marlee making one thing glaringly obvious. I was never the victim. I turned myself into one of the villains. That’s something I never thought I’d be.
Then again, I didn’t think I’d ever have Marlee Manning tell me to forget her either. That’s something I cannot and will never do.
Chapter 1
Aiden
12 months later
Regret is a petty bitch.
It screws you up, tears you down, and if you let it, it can dictate the future direction of your life.
When you destroy your life as spectacularly as I did, you get two choices--wallow in pity and stay down or try to rebuild everything from the ground up.
At first, I chose the former. After Vegas, I returned to San Francisco and didn’t leave the house. I drank myself into a hole until I’d black out. It was the only way to numb the pain and block out the disappointment and self-loathing. Then I’d wake up the next day and do it all over again, just sitting on my couch and locking myself away from the world.
I lost everything in one fell swoop. I did not pass go, I did not collect two hundred dollars and I definitely did not get any semblance of a happy ever after. All I had was a ruined reputation, a broken heart twice over and an empty bed. All because of one stupid, dangerous, reckless decision that led to the kidnapping of two innocent people, one of whom was shot, and being royally screwed over by a third. The only good thing to come out of it was that the man behind it all went to prison and will never breathe fresh air again. Then I screwed over the last person I had in my corner, one who had my back but who I hurt so badly, she cut ties forever.
Ten months ago, when I was at my lowest and considering things I had no business considering, I received a phone call. It was a lifeline, an opportunity, a chance that I grabbed hold of with two hands. I’m still plagued with guilt and regret for what I did and what could’ve been, but I also have a new life here in Seattle, away from all the bridges I burned in my past.
“You're in early,” my friend and boss Harry says as he walks into our small, seen-better-days office in Tacoma and sits behind his desk. It was Harry who dragged me out of the deep black hole I was burying myself in and offered me a job as a private investigator.
“Couldn't sleep. Figured I might as well work on this stealing case.”
Harry's brows arch. “The one with the sticky-fingered employee?”
“That’s it. He’s a wily one. Seems to know where all the cameras are, even the pinhole ones I put in last week. And he hasn't stolen a thing since. It makes me think he's got his own surveillance in there.”
“Makes sense,” he says, rubbing his chin. “But how would he do that? Or know to do that? He’s what, twenty-two?”
“Yeah, but he’s also studying computer science at Seattle University. So, he's smart with stuff like that.”
Harry's gaze turns calculating, an expression I've seen him wear many times since I started working for him both here and back when we were detectives for the SFPD together. “Maybe we can use his skills,” he muses, tapping his pen against the desk. “I think I’ve just come across a case that may need an amateur hacker. It could be right up his alley.”
I lean forward, leaning my elbows against my desk. “You want to bring in the thieving employee of a client for a job interview?”
He shrugs. “Two birds, one stone. It would get him out of the shop and away from his computer while you go in and install some of my new cameras that can't be seen, and I'll distract him with a fake job interview.”
“You think that'll work?”
“It'll give us a chance to close the case sooner rather than later and he won’t see it coming. You know just as well as I do that sometimes the only way to outsmart people like that is to beat them at their own game. If he's watching the feed and lining his pockets on our client’s dime, then let’s give him the chance to become the star of his own show. Except this time, it’ll be us dictating the plot and the outcome.”
I nod, impressed with Harry's cunning plan. He’s always been the kind of man who’s one step ahead of the game. It’s what made him a successful detective with one of the highest closing records in SFPD history—until he retired, and I picked up the reins and beat his standing record a year later.
It’s the same tenacious approach to life that has made him an even better private investigator. “Alright, I'll set it up and talk to him. But we need to make sure he doesn't suspect anything.”
Harry nods in agreement. “Leave that to me. I'll handle the fake job interview and keep him busy while you work your magic.”
“OK. Sounds good. I'll call the owner.”
He gets up and walks around his desk, resting his ass on the wood. “Since you're here, be prepared to hand over this case to me because I’ve got another one coming in hot, and I want you to take it.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, interest piqued.
