Logan nodded toward the chief's office with a grimace. "Best you hear it from him like the rest of us did."
"Come on, Pierce." I picked up my laptop and opened it to get to my CAD, working while probing him for information. "I don't wanna bother him. If it's another month of forced overtime, I can handle it. I just don't wanna get stuck with Remy as a patrol partner again. He keeps checking on Parker, since she's pregnant, again. I don't get it. There's only so much someone that pregnant can do to get in trouble, and it's never a good idea to bother someone when they're asleep. Yet he keeps doing it, no matter how much she yells at him."
"Why are you even here, Ian? I thought you were only taking on therapy clients. That's the whole point of having a therapist on the staff."
"Because I have to maintain my licensing, smart-ass. One month a year, working patrol for half the week. The other half I get to counsel your whiny asses."
Logan knew I wasn't serious, just like I knew he was giving me a hard time. Especially since he had an appointment with me the following day.
"You didn't say anything to Teri, did you?" The sudden panic in his tone hit me like a ton of bricks.
I shut my computer for dramatic effect and then checked over my shoulder to make sure that no one was there. When I saw that no one was there, I turned and gave my friend and client my full attention.
"Logan." He froze while he waited for my next words. "I'm a therapist. First and foremost. Whatever you say to me is completely confidential. Every single bit of it. Am I going to give Teri a hard time? Absolutely. I'm also going to push you to face the truth about yourself, and about what you put the two of you through. I'm also going to tell her that you're crazy about her when you show up and ask her for help to get your costume ready. That's not a secret. She knows it; I know it. Hell, even Bee and Nox know that you're crazy about her. Your commitment issues and the things holding you back aren't going to leave the space we carve out in my office."
So my way of letting him know that I provided a safe space turned into a rant, but we weren't sitting in my office, so it didn't have to be all about him at that moment.
"Thank you." Logan's voice was practically nonexistent. "Not only for that, but for helping me."
With a shrug, I opened my laptop again and got back to paperwork. "That's what they pay me the big bucks for. Plus, the overtime that I get paid for covering patrol doesn't hurt either."
"Keller," Chief Townsend barked from his office door. "I need to see you."
With a longing glance at the only half-finished report that I still had to work on before clocking out, I closed the lid again with a sigh. "Coming, Chief."
"Good luck," Logan mock whispered.
I flipped him off and walked away, hoping whatever it was wouldn't ruin my weekend. Not that I had a plan other than to think of a way to get Chloe to talk to me. Maybe I could burn dinner or something and ask her to take pity on me. Everyone knew I was the world’s worst cook.
"What's up?" I closed the door behind me, making sure to glare at the still-smiling Logan while he tried to eavesdrop.
When I turned around, I saw Benton Mays standing next to the chief's desk.
"Ben." I held out my hand and shook his when he leaned forward. "What are you doing here, man? Not teaching another Criminal Justice Academy class this time around?"
"Nah." He shook his head. "Got a backlog of client work to get through for the firm."
He shot a look at the chief, who sighed and sat behind his desk with a huff. "I know. I already gave you the time, Mays. Just get it done."
"Thanks, Chief." Ben held out a manilla envelope with my name scrawled on the front. "I need you to come to Bangor tonight. After work. For the reading of Kevin's will."
I'd been reaching for the envelope when he said Kevin's name, and my hand froze in midair. "I'm sorry, what?"
"You heard me." Ben pushed the envelope into my hand. "I figured I'd have problems getting you all there at the right time, so I had to arrange it with Alex." He shot a look at the chief. "He's gracefully let the entire unit off for the day, and then for everything else that has to happen."
"Damn inconvenient," Chief muttered. "But we'll make it happen. Luckily you're done with your patrol shifts for the year.”
“What are you talking about?” The words came out hoarse, more of a croak than anything else. “I don’t understand.” While my cheeks flushed, I laid it all out there. “Chloe broke off the engagement.”
“I know.” Ben nodded toward the envelope in my hand. “The stipulations are for the entire fire team, not just you. It has nothing to do with your relationship with Chloe. Can you just… be the only amenable client that I have to deal with today and show up like I need you to? The sooner we get this taken care of, the sooner Chloe can put Kevin’s assets to rest.”
“I’ll be there.” The words ripped themselves from my throat.
No wonder Remy and Linc warned me not to murder anyone.
Assholes.
They could have warned me.
But while I drove to Bangor almost on autopilot after work, I knew if they told me, I’d have run in the opposite direction.
I wanted an excuse to see Chloe, but not at Kevin’s expense. Again.
Up until I pulled into the parking lot at Ben’s law office, I thought about leaving. About turning around and going home. About closing the drapes and vanishing. Then I saw Chloe, standing alone, with her arms wrapped around her waist, and the panicked expression on her face, and I practically dove out of my truck.
“Chloe.”
Blindly, she reached for me, and everything felt right, for just a second.
“Ian, I can’t.”
“You can,” I told her with more confidence than I felt. I didn’t tell her that I’d been about to chicken out, too. “You have to.”
“I still hate you.” She whimpered as I guided her into the office.
Her words stung, but the iron grip that she had on my hand, refusing to let go, eased some of the pain. “I know.”
There was a fine line between love and hate. I just needed to figure out how to push her onto the other side of the line. That, and not lose her in the process.
5
Chloe
I thought the worst day of my life was the one when I buried Kevin's casket. I was wrong.
The worst day of my life was when I had to force myself to walk into the building where one of Kevin's friends, and his lawyer, would read his will.
What thirty-three-year-old man had a will in the first place?
I knew it was standard practice for all Marines to have one, but I didn't have to be there for it. They could just put all of his money in an account that I'd never touch. Ever. That was his. And one day, I'd figure out how to handle his death. Maybe I'd donate all of it to a charity meant to help veterans.
Yeah, he'd like that.
I couldn't even force myself to go into the building. I stood there, holding my arms around my body, trying to hold myself together. But I felt it. Pieces of my heart and soul seeped out through my fingertips, and I couldn't move. My limbs were frozen in place. My feet refused to listen to my brain.