Frank watched him disappear into the surgical wing. “Charming guy.”
“Overworked,” I muttered.
“Underpaid,” Frank added.
“Annoyed we exist,” I said.
“Story of our lives.”
But underneath the banter, something coiled tight in my chest. Last-minute leave. No forwarding details. Abrupt exit. A surgeon connected—maybe loosely, maybe not—to a man found dumped and butchered from a case tangled in my father’s past.
Everything was sliding together in ways I didn’t like.
TEN
Alejandro
I couldn’t stop thinkingabout Levi’s hand on me. His breath on my throat. The way he’d dragged me into his apartment as if he didn’t want any space between us. The way he’d taken everything I gave him and wanted more. It hit me hard and wrong—it had been a lifetime since I wanted anyone. I never hooked up, never had a sex life, never had a partner, never wanted one. And now one cop—a fucking cop—and I was crossing lines and wanting more? Wanting what I’d spent my whole life cutting out of myself. Wanting something was dangerous.
I shut my eyes for a beat and exhaled, waiting for regret and confusion, but instead I had only want. Ishouldregret even going there. I knew that. I understood the shape of regret, the idea of it, the way people were supposed to feel it. It wasn’t something I’d ever had the luxury of feeling.
So why did I feel more ashamed than regretful? I’d been in the apartment of a detective who’d already tried to put a gun to my face, which was the kind of mistake that could get someone killed.
Why was I ashamed? It wasn’t tied to guilt or conscience or the weight of what I’d done with Levi. Shame was a reflex, not a feeling—my body remembering lessons I should’ve outgrown, reacting to a man I shouldn’t want, a man who could end me if he ever figured out what I really was.
“I’m not ashamed. I took what I wanted. It’s okay.”
I winced—fuck, was I becoming someone who used affirmations? Whispering shit to myself as if it made a difference? Fuck that bullshit.
But the worst part was the silence that followed—the kind that left too much room in my head. Thoughts I didn’t want crept in. Wanting Levi wasn’t an itch or a distraction; it felt like something crawling under my skin, settling in my blood. A pull I didn’t choose. A pull I didn’t trust.
Men like me didn’t get what they wanted. Want got you killed, or used, or twisted into someone else’s weapon. Wanting to keep my momma alive had made me a torturer; wanting to save my sister had made me a mass freaking murderer. And yet here I was, sitting on the edge of my bed like some idiot with a crush, pretending I hadn’t let a cop put his hands on me, pretending it hadn’t been the best and worst mistake I’d made in years.
My head wasn’t where it needed to be.
I gave up on working in my office, went and took a shower, and the hot water hit me like a punch. I braced both hands on the tiles, head down, steam curling around me. I didn’t mean to touch myself—didn’t plan it—but the second the spray hit my chest, I needed to come.
Perfunctory. Like a typical morning.
But then I pictured Levi, his hands on me.
“No,” I said, but who was I kidding? He replaced the normal images I summoned to get off, and my grip tightened before I could stop it. Slow, then faster, rougher, chasing the burninstead of the pleasure, because fuck if I was going to enjoy this. I wanted it to hurt because then it might make sense. My forehead pressed to the tile, breath coming hard. I hated how fast my body reacted, how easy it was to tip over the edge when I remembered the sounds he made in my ear.
It didn’t take long. I came with anger and need tangled so tight I couldn’t separate them. The water washed the evidence away.
Except my pulse stayed wrong.
Once and done. Get him out of my system and prove to myself that sex with him was a waste of my time, even if that felt like lying through my teeth. If it was meaningless, why was he still under my skin? Why was my body still wired tight? Why did it feel as if I’d opened a door I couldn’t close again? It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. It wasn’t supposed to be anything. And yet every thought I had kept sliding back to Levi, as though my mind didn’t care what the rules were anymore.
I shut off the water, dressed, holstered my knife, and pocketed the hypodermic after checking that the reserve was full. I wouldn’t attach it to my wrist until I left the house and my hands were steadier, but for now, it was there and ready.
I headed back to my office. Time to stop thinking about Levi. Time to move money and check in on safe houses.
“Uncle Alli?”
I glanced up from my desk to find Molly hovering by the door, biting her lip as if she’d been standing there for a while.
“Hey, Mols, is everything okay?” My default was to worry. “Is it Bradley again?”
