I wore black leather pants that rested above my ankle boots, with a simple cream tank underneath a black leather biker jacket. A dark army green leather purse hung off my arm. My hair was pulled back into a loose bun, and a few pieces of shorter hair fell forward and framed my face. I slipped on a pair of sunglasses and headed to the waiting cab.
This guy better not be a creep, or Lisa would lose all her pull to sucker me into a date.
As I walked into the station, my aunt called.
“Hey, sweetie, you ready?”
I smiled at her name for me. I was in my thirties, but she still saw me as a little girl with pigtails and an ice cream dress. “No, but I will be for you.”
“I know blind dates aren’t your thing, but he’s really nice, and you might have a little fun. I won’t hold you to another date. I just want you to try to see that other men are out there. Tell me you’re wearing heels, no flats, Spencer, and no sneakers either.”
I waved a hand at the girl at the front desk and squeezed by the cleaner as he mopped the bottom of the stairs.
“Morning,” I side-whispered politely at him as I hurried by.
He grunted at me and went on with his work. He really wasn’t much of a people person.
“I’m just walking into G’s office.” I dismissed her fashion tips. “I’ll tell him you said hello.”
“Yes, please do, and give him a hug for me too. Call me afterward. Love you.”
“Love you too.” My uncle looked up as I opened his door. “Lisa says hi, G.”
He leaned up from his desk, and I saw his love for his wife flash across his face. She didn’t often come to the station, so any time during the day I could mention her name, I did. He turned around his screen to show me the Nordstrom website. Their anniversary was coming up.
I pointed to my suggestion.
“Thanks.” He smiled, pleased with my input, before he leaned back and stretched his stress away.
“Have you seen Blake today?” I pulled a mint out and hoped it would clear the film of coffee left in the lining of my mouth.
“Last I heard, he went back to the crime scene.” He eyed my outfit. “Where were you?”
“Your wife thought it was time for me to meet Mickey.” I rolled my eyes but knew Lisa only wanted the best for me.
“Like you could say no to her, anyway.” He laughed.
“True. Oh!” I clapped my hands together. “Get this. I finished my chapters this morning, and book two is well on its way to being completed.”
“I don’t know why you’re surprised, Spence. This is what you’re made to do.”
I beamed like a child happy to have impressed her parents. G was my father’s identical twin brother, so sometimes when we were hanging out, I pretended for a moment he really was Dad. Hard to let go of someone when you saw them every day.
G held up a finger when he answered his phone, and I stole an orange from his fridge. I could use a little fuel.
“I made it very clear, that was not supposed to happen.”
I peeled the skin off in one long piece and tossed it in the trash before I eased onto the edge of the couch.
“Spencer,” G had the phone away from his ear, “someone just paid Will’s bail. He’s out.”
Chapter Twelve
Jonah
My laptop was hot, and the motor screamed for a break. I had a deadline on my next book, and the words couldn’t flow out of me fast enough. I thought this might the book that got me noticed by Netflix. I felt that sinking feeling that hit my stomach every time I thought of that channel. I missed my opportunity when I had one.
The lock on the door retracted and it flew open.
“You’re home late.” I stared down at my coffee cup and pretended not to be hurt. She had been out late for the past four days and had gone away for a week-long trip. I was never allowed to say anything, and when I did what she asked, she still came home late. Sometimes I wondered if she was cheating. I mean, I’d never know.
“Busy day at the office.” She hung her coat and tossed her keys in the bowl. “Any more of that left?”
“Yes.” I wouldn’t look at her.
"You get anything written?”
“Yeah, a lot, actually.” I loved when she took interest in my passion. She moved to stand over me and read the last paragraph. “It’s darker than my normal stuff.” I felt a little raw with how fresh the words on the page were.
“Your darkness is what drew me to you.”
“I can be anything I want, a hero, a kingpin, a badass cop…” I trailed off in thought. I had a backbone in life and with my writing, but when it came to Tiffany, I was spineless and weak, and I was unsure why that was.
“Mm,” she muttered, ignoring my comment, and went to the fridge.
My fingers stayed wrapped around the mug as an anchor. “I did what you asked.”
“Yeah?” She seemed slightly uninterested. “And?”
“And I got it.”
“Where is it?”
I held up a Ziploc bag with a purple silk scarf inside.
“Anyone see you?”
“No.”
“How did you get it?”
“Just like you said, slipped into her office, acted like I was delivering a package, and pulled it from her jacket that hung over the chair. In and out.”
She stood over me and went to reach for it, but I slid it back out of reach.
“Why are you having me watch her?”
“Give it to me, Jonah.” Her tone matched the sudden flash of anger that tore through her eyes.
I wanted to stand my ground, but it wasn’t worth the fight or her leaving me again. Slowly, I handed it to her.
She snatched it away and glared down at me, her free hand wrapped around my chin to hold it in place. “Remember who you have left in this world, and who can very easily leave you with nothing. Don’t make me use the sandpaper.” I blinked back the memory of the first time I had crossed Tiffany and how she used sandpaper to make her point. Said pain was a good teaching tool, and that I needed to learn a lesson. I let her do it; I knew the pain was worth it to keep her. The spot on my thigh never looked the same. I was weak around her, and we both knew it.
She roughly kissed my lips before she headed into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.
I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed the pain back, just like I did whenever I thought of my parents’ grave or my sister’s ashes that still sat on my mantel. Tiffany was right. I had no one but her.
Someone bumped into me, and I was pulled from my flashback. I focused on Spencer Peters, who beamed about something her uncle said. She had an effortless beauty to her that made her stand out from the rest. Maybe it was because she didn’t try to be anyone but herself. She was good enough as she was. There was a part of me that envied that.
“Hey, man.” Benny, who never remembered my name, held up his wet hands. “Can you help me out? I dropped my coffee in the restroom, and that floor is friggin’ slippery. I’m in a hurry.”
I nodded. “Sure thing. It would be my pleasure to help you out.”
Asshole.
He looked up when he heard Spencer laugh and forgot I was there. He didn’t think to move as I awkwardly maneuvered my water pail around him.