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“A hundred grand worth,” Mick explained.
“I’ve got twenty grand for you. That’s all Carmen could put together tonight. I’ll get rid of these.” He slung the bag over his shoulder and handed Charlize the envelope of cash.
Mick knew Charlize wouldn’t be able to help herself. “How are you going to get rid of them?”
“Not important,” Luis said, his expression completely flat. “You better go, this isn’t a good place to hang out.” He gestured back at their SUV and they headed toward it.
Mick walked around to Charlize’s side and opened her door. He wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t something he would normally do but it felt right at that moment.
“A real gentleman,” she teased, but she touched his arm gently as she got in.
Things were different. They were different. Maybe that made them less prepared for this work. But possibly finally more prepared for each other.
CHAPTER 14
CHARLIZE
Charlize’s neck ached as she stared out the car window. Mick drove back to the corporate housing without much to say. The images of the captive women and children haunted her, each scene etching itself deeper into her memory. Mick's gaze remained focused on the road, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. She knew him well, he was hanging on for dear life just like she was.
Even the walk to their apartment was eerily quiet. He’d usually be good for a joke about how this was like a depressing version of the walk of shame. But he said nothing.
When they threw themselves on to the couch, she finally spoke. "Want to open the laptop and start researching Susan Morales? I know Carmen is going to work something up, but I’m curious if there are any obvious connections with this woman and the charity."
Mick shook his head in disagreement. "Charlize, it's late, and you've got to be at work in five hours. You need some rest."
Frustration welled up within her as she fought against the fatigue that threatened to consume her. Of course she was tired. So was he, but they could keep working. "I’m not suggesting we stay up all night but—"
“You're no good to anyone if you're running on empty. You know more of what you’re looking for tomorrow in the office. Maybe you can search about Morales in the records there. Right now, you need sleep."
Though she knew he was right, Charlize couldn't help but feel irritated by the delay. Every passing minute was crucial, and the guilt of not taking immediate action gnawed at her. Still, she reluctantly nodded, exhaustion winning the battle. It was so hard to admit he was right, to accept that maybe she couldn’t keep going tonight.
Mick's concern for her well-being was exasperating. Not because of anything he was doing. It was a flaw in her. Charlize wasn't accustomed to being taken care of or ordered around, but perhaps tonight, she needed it more than she was willing to admit.
Mick directed her to the kitchen, pulling her up by her arms and leading the way. He instructed her to sit down while he rummaged through the fridge. He retrieved a leftover pizza box, placing a cold slice on a plate before her. “Eat.”
Turning toward the counter behind him, Mick held a bottle of wine and began to pour a glass. However, he paused mid-pour, his lips curving into a wry smile as he glanced at her. With a soft chuckle, he emptied the glass of wine into the sink and reached for a bottle of whiskey instead.
Charlize joined in the laughter, appreciating his effort to lighten the mood. He was right. The smooth warm buzz of wine wouldn’t be enough tonight. She needed the good stuff.
Tossing in a large ice cube, he handed her a glass, and she took a sip, feeling the warmth of the whiskey spread through her. It was a comforting burn, a reminder that they were still alive and fighting. Mick poured himself a glass as well, and they sat in the nearly dark kitchen, the silence heavy with unspoken thoughts and shared burdens.
Charlize took another swig of whiskey and nibbled at the pizza. She knew she had to eat. Sleep was a necessity too. Mick was right, even if that was hard for her accept. He knew her, and that was terrifying.
He clanked his glass to hers and sat in contented silence. It was a fragile moment, a rare glimpse into their vulnerabilities. They had always been partners in work, but now they were considering leaving. Both of them. Together. It was heavy.
"You know," Mick began, his voice soft, "we’re still young. We can have a whole second chapter of our lives if we want it. A completely different life.”
She managed a weak smile. “I can’t think past tonight.”
"You’re right. You need to sleep, and you won’t calm down unless you take a bath," Mick encouraged, his eyes filled with concern as he leaned in closer to her. "It'll help you relax and clear your mind. You love a good bath."
She hesitated for a moment. She felt bare under his correct assessment of her needs. Charlize nodded, and Mick offered her his hand, guiding her into the bathroom.
He did it all. Lit the candles. Picked the best of the oils and bath salts. The sight of the warm bathwater was inviting, and Charlize couldn't resist its call.
He didn’t leave. Mick stood, slipped his finger under the strap of her tank top and slid it down her shoulders. He undressed her slowly, each piece of clothing falling to the floor as she shed the weight of the night. He didn’t take liberties with the moment. His hands didn’t glide to the places she was sure he wanted to touch. Instead, he held out one hand and steadied her as she stepped into the bath.
The water enveloped her, soothing her aching muscles and calming her racing thoughts. Mick sat on the edge of the tub, watching over her like a guardian.
