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"Look, I know things can be tough," I say, softer now. "But there are better ways to?—"
"Better ways?" she interrupts, her green eyes suddenly glistening with unshed tears. "You think I don't know that? You think I wanted this?" Her voice breaks, and it's like watching a dam crumble.
"Hey, hey," I reach out instinctively, then pull back, remembering who I am, what I represent. "I'm not here to lecture you. Just talk to me. Why tonight? Why this store?"
"Because I'm tired, okay?" Lori blurts out, and something in her expression shifts, a rawness that wasn't there before. "Tired of being hungry, of counting pennies, of feeling invisible unless I'm in cuffs."
The confession hits me hard, a punch to the gut. There's an ache in my chest that doesn't belong in the job description. I'm supposed to uphold the law, not bend it because a pretty girl with sad eyes makes my heart race.
"Being down on your luck doesn't give you a free pass to break the law, Lori." My voice is firm, but it sounds hollow, even to my own ears.
"Being a cop doesn't give you a free pass to judge my life," she retorts, and damn if she isn't right.
"Listen," I say, locking onto her gaze, "I'm not your enemy.”
“Then what are you?” she asks, her voice a bit breathy, and damn if that doesn’t twist me all up in knots inside.
I don’t answer. Instead, I stride closer, the streetlights outside the convenience store framing her like some kind of modern-day delinquent Madonna. The fluorescent lights cast a halo around her jet-black hair, and those damn green eyes flicker with something I can't quite name. It's vulnerability mixed with defiance, along with an innocence that shouldn't be there given the circumstances. She's a walking contradiction, streetwise yet somehow unspoiled by the grime of this city.
"Officer McLean?" Her voice is a whisper, but it slices through the tension like a blade. "What's your verdict?"
The badge on my chest feels heavier than ever, but so does the pull to let her off the hook. I step into her space, close enough to catch a whiff of her scent—some cheap shampoo that surprisingly smells like wildflowers. My pulse throbs in my temples as I lean down, bringing my face inches from hers.
"Here's the thing, Lori," I murmur, my gaze locked onto hers. "You've got this innocence about you that doesn't fit the crime scene. It's..." I search for the right word, "...captivating."
She looks up at me, those piercing eyes narrowing slightly. "Innocence? That's not what most people see when they look at me."
"Maybe they're not looking close enough."
There's this heat between us, sparking and sizzling in the cramped aisle. My mind races with images I have no business entertaining—not here, not with her, not on duty. But hell if I don't want to explore every inch of that tension.
"Captivating or not, though" I continue, my voice rough with restraint, "I can't just ignore what you did."
"Then don't," she says softly. "But maybe...give me a chance to make it right."
“Go on,” I urge her, pride swelling in my chest.
"Let me work it off. The stuff I damaged—it wasn't much. I can pay back the store."
It's against protocol, bending the rules like this. But looking at Lori, seeing the desperation etched in the lines of her youthful face, I'm done for. I want to believe her, to believe in that untouched part of her that seems to be reaching out to me.
"Alright." The word comes out before I can stop it. "A warning, this time. But Lori,"—I take a step back, trying to regain some semblance of authority—"if I catch you shoplifting again, it won't be a warning. Understood?"
"Understood, Officer McLean." Her voice is steady, but her eyes are alight with relief—and something else, something that might just be gratitude.
"Good." I straighten up, adjusting the uniform that suddenly feels too tight. "I'll be keeping an eye on you."
"Is that a promise?" There's a hint of a tease in her tone, daring me to cross the line I've already blurred.
I crack a smile despite myself. "It's a warning, Lori. Don't make me regret it."
As I turn to leave, the air feels charged, electric with unspoken promises and perilous possibilities. I've just defied my duty, let my guard down for a girl with eyes like sin and a heart that might just be purer than I ever expected. What am I getting myself into?
* * *
I step out into the chaos of New York's relentless pulse. I can't shake her from my mind. The look in Lori's eyes haunts me, a mix of wildness and vulnerability that I've never seen before. My boots hit the pavement, each step echoing the rapid beat of my heart—a rhythm set off course by a nineteen-year-old with too much trouble in her gaze.
"Dammit," I mutter under my breath, feeling the weight of my badge and the burden of my conscience. What the hell did I just do? The city hums around me, indifferent to the internal storm raging through my veins. I should feel satisfied with handling the situation, but satisfaction is far from what I'm feeling. It's more like I'm on the edge of a cliff, and I've taken one dangerous step too close to the drop.
