Chapter 12
Ryan
It was a rough night. A lot more complicated than I thought it would be. Cameron was fine, which was good. He seemed to be comfortable when Brooke was around. She was natural at turning his episodes into creative projects or at least experiences where I didn’t have to clean spaghetti off the ceiling with a windshield scraper.
The rough part was when we all went to sleep—when the house was quiet and everyone was settled into bed—knowing Brooke was between my sheets as I laid alone on the couch. I stared out the window, trying to focus on anything other than the tears I had watched fall from her eyes. The sky outside was clear, dotted with stars, beautiful—yet—my thoughts kept turning back to Brooke. I heard her sniffle a few times behind my bedroom door, and I knew she was still crying.
It bothered me more than it should have to know the tears were for another man. A man who hurt her. She should have known better. She was a cop for God’s sake; she should have seen the red flags of a liar right away. Maybe she was blinded. Maybe she was lonely, like she said. But I didn’t take her for desperate.
The next day, I rushed into work and stormed through the offices. Lydia sat drinking coffee at her desk, her eyes melting when they saw me. “Ryan,” she gasped, smoothing down her shirt. “You’re in earlier than usual,” she smiled, fluttering her eyelashes.
I nodded at her and smiled, “Morning, gorgeous.”
She squirmed in her seat and shifted her body in my direction.
“Do you know if Sargeant Kannon is here yet?” I asked, quickly.
“Yeah, sure. I saw him earlier.” She leaned back in her chair and twisted her finger through her hair. “Hey, what are you doing after work tonight? You want to get a drink with me?”
“I have my brother, remember?” I said, slowly.
“Yeah, but isn’t Fury watching him? I thought she got suspended, and you’re letting her watch him?”
“She didn’t get suspended,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Where did you hear that?”
She shrugged her shoulders, “Everyone is talking about it. The way I hear it; she’s sleeping her way through the entire detective squad.” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down.
“That’s a lie, so don’t repeat it,” I said in an even tone.
“That’s not what I heard,” she laughed darkly in a singsong tone.
I froze mid-step and stared down at her. “Does it actually make you feel better about yourself if you put another woman down?” I shook my head, appalled. “Are you one of those people? Because that’s pretty dishonorable and screwed up if you are.”
“What?” she stammered, looking up at me wide-eyed.
“Brooke Fury didn’t sleep around with everyone in the office.If there issomeone who is spreading that rumor, it’s only because they want to tarnish her name and make her look bad.” I leaned in close to her and touched my fingertips to her desk. “If I were you, I would be pissed off that someone would want to do that to another colleague of mine—instead of joining in on the crucifixion. You’re just slut-shaming her, and she didn’t do anything to you. You don’t even know the whole story.”
She stood up, jamming her hands on her hips. “You sound like it has something to do with you, like it’s personal. You didn’t take what she’s been offering everybody have you?”
“And now, you just sound jealous,” I said, shaking my head, walking away.
I launched myself into the hallway, trying to calm my accelerating pulse. How the hell could a woman be so cruel to another woman? Why so jealous? I didn’t understand them at all.
Once I reached the Sergeant’s door, I knocked hard.
There were a few beats of silence before I heard Kannon’s voice call out, “Yeah, Come in.”
As I opened the door, a young, uniformed officer was just stepping out. “Thank you Sarge,” she said. As she walked past me, she looked up, and her wide brown eyes looked startled—almost scared—as if she was just caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar.
I stared down at her and nodded a hello. A wall of strong perfume hit me, making my eyes sting. I shook my head and blinked rapidly.
The girl turned beet red, but said nothing. I held the door open for her, waited until she was in the hallway and closed the door.
Sergeant Kannon had his phone up to his ear, waving his hand for me to come in and have a seat.
I felt a twinge of unease as I slid into the chair across from him. He seemed to be yelling at someone over the phone, and it sounded personal. I leaned forward in the chair, and twisted my neck, trying to unstiffen it. There was a picture of Kannon’s family on a shelf to the side of me—his wife and two daughters. I had met his wife at the Holiday party, a quiet woman, the kids, both of them, two fiery balls of energy and voice. I remembered someone said his wife was a writer, and there was some sort of whisperings that she wrote erotic literature. I couldn’t picture it.
Kannon slammed the phone down grumbling.
