"I got this," I said.
"No. No you don't," he said.
"Yeah. I do."
I started the engine as Carter's eyes widened. "Jase? Don't do anything stupid."
I pulled at my lips, biting them between my teeth, and nodded. "I got this," I growled, pulling the car away from him and out of the lot. A blast of gravel and dust made him barely visible in my rearview mirror.
I glanced at her still form next to me. "Your mother still live in Queens?"
"I don't know," she whispered.
"Well? How's your mother? Is that a safe place I could take you where he won't bother you?"
She cleared her throat, but her voice still cracked. "Lost touch with her."
"Yeah? Had a falling out?"
"Something like that." She didn’t even flinch. She shrugged. Heartless. Suddenly, I realized that everything I thought I knew about this woman was a lie. Everything I remembered of her was just in my own damned imagination.
"Where do you live?" I asked her.
She stared out the window, watching the people outside. The wind from my window blew her hair across her cheeks. "Why don't you just say what you have to say and then I'll get myself home?"
My fingers squeezed the steering wheel; fireworks exploded through my bloodstream. "My lieutenant wants to put a car in front of your residence, just until we have Bren in. We could take him in now for selling, but I wanted to get his supplier. I also want to get him for setting up a hit on you. That'll be a nice little jail sentence." I smiled and couldn't help the venom in my voice, "Sorry, if that might hurt you."
"Tell your lieutenant I said, ‘thank you,’ but I'll be fine. Is there anything he needs me to do to help get Bren's supplier?"
"This isn't a request, Ms. Stone. I need your address. I'll drive you there now, and I will have twenty-four hour surveillance outside your front door," I snapped.
"I don't have a place. I live above the tattoo parlor," she whispered.
"Does Doc have the keys?" I asked slowly.
"Who's Doc?" she asked.
"Bren," I said, rolling my eyes.
"Unfortunately, yes he does. It's half his parlor."
Anger burned in my cheeks and I bit down, grinding out my jaw. Why the fuck would she be a business partner with a drug dealing asshole? "Fine then, where am I driving you? Your mother’s? Your father? Your family? A girlfriend?"
She laughed. Not a sweet sound; a very hurt, bitter one. "I don't have anywhere or anyone. Just take me to a hotel or let me out here."
"How about your husband and 2.5 kids then?" I snapped.
She looked out the window, her lips trembling.
"I'm taking you back to my place, then. It's not up for discussion." I was jeopardizing my job. What the hell was I thinking? I wasn't. I wasn't thinking at all.
That was a lie.
I was thinking.
All I was doing was thinking.
Thinking about why she lied to me. Thinking about the reasons she gave up on us. Thinking about wanting her to fight me. Fight with me. Thinking about the way those green eyes used to look at me and how no one ever looked at me like she did.
