“Stop stalking me,” he said, voice flat.
“Stop tempting me,” I countered, then I left him there, pulse hammering in a way I didn’t like.
I told myself I wouldn’t come back.
I knew I was lying.
ELEVEN
Levi
I spentthe whole morning at the precinct pretending I was fine, forcing myself into the routine of paperwork and procedure as if that alone could keep my head straight. Paperwork usually helped. Assault reports, an incident log from a bar fight, a follow-up on a domestic that should’ve gone to Family instead of Homicide but somehow landed on my desk. I stared at the forms for the other patients of Oscar Dryden-Wells, recognizing way too many names from files connected to my dad, until the words blurred, then forced them back into focus. Line by line. Box by box.
I had the Cave hunting down Alex Dryden-Wells, but he’d vanished, which was concerning, with no social media trail and no financial activity. My gut told me we wouldn’t find him, but Caleb and Sonya remained optimistic that he was sunning himself on a beach somewhere.
I was trying to concentrate on anything except Alejandro, because every time my mind wandered, it went straight back to him and the heat of that alley, the weight of his body, and the sound of his voice in my ear. His hand clutching my shirt. His body hard. Spanish in my ear.
I signed my name in the wrong place twice and cursed loudly.
“Jesus, you’re in a mood,” Frank said.
“Fucking forms,” I snapped.
He raised an eyebrow before snorting, but he didn’t push, choosing instead to give me space, although it was apparent I wasn’t using it well. The bullpen was quiet, half the desks empty, the low hum of phones and the occasional printer the only sounds. It should’ve been the perfect morning to catch up on my real job.
Instead, I was counting the hours since the wall incident.
I checked the clock.
Again.
My skin itched with restlessness I couldn’t shake, and when I shifted in my chair, the way my body reacted reminded me far too much of the shower that morning—of the way I’d gritted my teeth and gotten myself off fast, pretending it was stress when I knew damn well what had set me off.
“Levi?” Frank prompted.
“What?”
“You’re doing that thing.”
“What thing?”
He raised his eyebrows. “The thing where you’re staring at the same page for ten minutes and not turning it.”
I looked down. Same report. Same paragraph. I hadn’t processed a single word.:
“Go get coffee,” Frank said. “Or, I don’t know, blink.”
“Stop your worrying, old man,” I muttered without heat, and smiled at him as I pushed back from the desk anyway. I needed movement, hell, I needed air.
I got coffee from the cart outside—one of those battered metal setups catering to overworked cops who lived off caffeine and whatever snacks they could grab without leaving their desks for long—letting the warmth ground me for a moment. Still,I didn’t go back into the break room because the last thing I needed was company while I spiraled. Instead, I found an empty bench in the courtyard, opened my phone, locked my screen, waited three seconds, then unlocked it again as if I was checking something. Habit. Cover. Then I opened the closed system that connected me to whatever the Cave was working on, helping me dig deeper than the usual background checks.
Doc.
Alejandro.
I tried them all. Variations. Cross-references in the database. Anything I could think of. The system spat back the same answer every time.
Nothing. Not even a hint of a paper trail I could follow. Before I could try another angle, my phone rang, and I answered as soon as Caleb’s name lit up the screen.
