Hayden was a good guy. We’d always gotten along but Cassidy had always been there. She’d always been the buffer between us. And in those moments we’d found ourselves alone, we were always talking about her.
“I’m sorry,” I barely whispered after a while.
“You’re sorry? For what?” Hayden asked, confusion written all over his face.
“I’m sorry I didn’t help her. I couldn’t save her,” I admitted.
The truth was it’d been eating away at me from the moment I’d found her. I should’ve done more. I could’ve done more. I’m still not sure what that was; it seemed no matter how many times I replayed it in my head, I still couldn’t figure out where everything had gone so wrong, but it had. And it was on me. And that was something I was going to have to worry about and live with for the rest of my life.
“It wasn’t your job to save her, Skye. It was mine,” Hayden replied bitterly as he tossed back the rest of his drink and walked towards the back door, staring out across the yard. A yard I knew Cassidy was looking forward to filling with kids.
“No! You weren’t responsible for her safety, Hayden,” I started only to be silenced with a look that made me shiver. It was no wonder Hayden was such a good cop, he was scary as fuck when he wanted to be.
“I’m a cop, Skye. It’s my job to protect people. It’s what I’m supposed to do and I couldn’t… I didn’t…” The words caught in his throat.
Hayden was a mess and rightfully so. I knew he would be and that's why I’d come. Well, part of why I’d come. I’d also come to apologize but it didn’t seem like he was in the mood to hear it. Hayden and Cassidy’s romance was one for the story books. It was the one poets wrote about, singers sung about, and single people, people like me, were envious of. It’d been fast and ferocious but it was real. Anyone who’d seen them together, anyone who’d spent any amount of time with them, would know that. Time didn’t matter. Outside opinions and gossip went unheard. Their extravagant New Year’s Eve engagement party had shown their worlds how much they adored each other and I had no doubt their fairy-tale wedding would’ve only been the start of their happily ever after.
“How can I help?” I offered, fidgeting in my seat. I mean, there was a wedding to cancel, a tour that needed unwinding, her house—I had no idea if Hayden planned on staying here or not, but anything I could do to help, I wanted to. I needed to. Being useful was all I knew. It was what I did and if it made this even just a little bit easier for Hayden, then I wanted to help him.
Both of us sitting here consumed with guilt wouldn't make anything better. It wouldn’t bring her back and I knew Cassidy would want us to be happy. It was who she was.
After a long quiet moment, Hayden moved towards me, pinning me with a stare that made me uneasy. “I need to know what you know,” he told me gruffly. “Even if you think it’s nothing, even if it seems insignificant, I need to know.”
“I already told the police…”
“And that might be true, but you didn’t tell me. And I’m the one who’s going to find Cassidy’s murderer.”
9
HAYDEN
I don't knowthe last time I’d slept, at least a decent, full night's sleep. Most nights I napped in my car or at my desk. My face had broken out, covered in acne like a teenager, probably because I hadn’t had a decent meal since I don’t know when.
I’d flown to Atlanta and tried to talk to the detectives in charge of the case, hoping they had leads but they weren’t exactly forthcoming. Turf wars were real and I knew I was treading on toes, but I didn’t give a flying fuck. Someone out there had killed Cassidy and I wasn’t going to rest until they were rotting behind bars.
“You look like shit,” Dickson commented as he handed me a burrito.
“Yeah, yeah. Any luck?” I asked hopefully, or maybe it was desperately.
“We still haven’t found them.”
“Look harder!”
“Hayden…”
“Don’t Hayden me, Dickson. Find them. It’s the only lead we have so we need to chase it to the end of the earth and find the fucker who stole those guitars,” I growled.
I was being a dick. Dickson knew it and I knew it but this was eating away at me. It’d been two months since we’d laid Cassidy to rest and I was still no closer to finding the prick responsible. Two months. We should’ve been living it up and enjoying married life. We should’ve been reminiscing about our Hawaiian honeymoon and trying to find time in her crazy calendar to escape there again. Instead, I was pouring over the same reports I’d already read a hundred times, still no closer to an answer.
After stuffing half the already cold and soggy burrito in my mouth, I headed to the bathroom and splashed some water on my face. I needed a break. I knew I needed one. I just couldn’t bring myself to take the time off. I was scared. Terrified if I stopped, life would catch up with me and kick me in the balls, and I’d already had enough.
A call came through, someone wanting to report a burglary in a nearby apartment, and before I knew it Dickson was herding me into the car and we were on our way. After doing what we could, and not making promises we couldn’t keep, we were back out on the street and on our way to the next problem. The day continued like this until it was time to call it.
Dickson went home, leaving me sitting at my desk, reviewing everything I knew again. There was something I was missing. A piece of the puzzle I didn’t understand.
Grabbing my phone, I dialed a number I’d promised myself I’d never call.
“Hello?” a fragile voice answered and immediately my shitty attitude dissolved. I may have lost Cassidy, but I wasn’t the only one.
