“Sir?” I greeted, stepping into the doorway of the captain’s office. He thudded the door closed behind me. I flinched like a scared little puppy with the sound.
“What happened between you and the dentist?” he demanded.
“Harris…” I hissed, fed up and trembling. I didn’t want to be behind closed doors with that man. I didn’t want to feel anything for him or be confused by any of the messed up crap I had going on in my mind.
“Brooke. Your brother told me about both crime scenes. I know you were close with the cadets who were killed. How close were you with the dentist?”
“Harris. I went on one date with him. Two weeks ago.”
I saw the hurt in his eyes.
“I never even kissed him. And it was after we split up.” Why was I explaining any of this to him?
“It’s been a month, and I still think about you. About us.”
“Captain Anderson, I really don’t think we should entertain this conversation any longer.”
“Brooke, I want you to take vacation time and stay out of the office for a while.”
“What? I can’t just—”
“Yes, you can. I’ll modify your duty. Stay home.”
“But why?”
He leaned in closely, and spoke low. “Because I really do care about you, and I’m worried. I know I fucked up, and I will never forgive myself for what happened. I was drunk and upset, and there is no excuse, but I really wanted to make this work between us.” He took a deep breath and stepped forward, placing his hands on my shoulders. “I need you safe, okay. Take a few days off and maybe, I’ll stop by. Bring you some dinner. Breakfast in bed. Maybe, we could start over.”
My thoughts spun around. I didn’t want dinner or breakfast in bed. I didn’t want to start over.
“That’s not going to happen, Sir.”
He bowed his head closer to me and brushed his lips lightly against my cheek. “You have no idea what I could make happen, sweatheart.”
Someone knocked on the door, and I jumped clear across the room, reminding me how our relationship really was. For almost three months, we hid our feelings in front of everyone. He was afraid people would say I was sleeping my way up the ladder. But that wasn’t true. I had liked him, really liked him.
I slipped through the opening of the door when he was too busy to notice. My stomach was tangled into knots, and I clutched at it, trying to settle the storm about to spew out of my mouth. When I walked into the 124-room Ryan’s brother Cameron was sitting at his desk. My feet skidded to a stop and for a moment, I was surprised, pleasantly surprised.
“Hi Cameron,” I said, giving him a wave.
“Yeah,” he said, never turning his attention to me.
I walked closer to him, wondering where he was actually supposed to be.
There were dozens of papers strewn across the top of Ryan’s desk, all of them covered with penciled sketches of people that were sitting around the office. True to life, photographic drawings. There was Dean, leaning back in a chair with a phone to his ear. His feet were up, a lace on his sneaker undone. Another one was Martinez, drinking from a cup of coffee. Lipstick smeared along the rim of her mug, just like in real life. I stood stunned. Amazed by the amount of talent that could come from one teenaged boy.
“Oh my God,” I whispered under my breath.
“Hey.” Ryan’s voice was low and somber behind me.
I had to drag my eyes away from Cameron’s hand, to look in Ryan’s direction.
“What didel Capi-tansay?” he asked, sipping at a bottle of water.
“That I’m on paid vacation until further notice,” I said, ashamed.
Ryan eyed me strangely as I moved closer to Cameron. The way the skin around his eyes bunched up as they narrowed put me on edge.
“Did you know he could do this?” I asked, pointing toward all the sketches. Cameron was drawing me now. My eyes were sad, and the corners of my lips were turned down. I looked back up toward Ryan, my face filled with wonder.
