He looks at me with a shit-eating grin and leans forward on the table. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“What was in the syringe? Was the plan to kill her?” Sanders asks, his indifference act gone since he had to step in and take over for me before I kill the man-boy in front of me.
The little fucker looks at me again, the smile still on his face. “Nah, man, a few of the guys wanna play with ‘er first. That was just to knock ‘er out.” He follows it up with a wink.
I’m clenching my jaw so hard that my molars might crack as I look at the little fuck across from me. When a muscle in my jaw twitches, he smiles.
“What’s the matter? I’m sure they won’t mind letting you in on the fuck train while she’s knocked out.” He leans closer to the table. “That little pussy’s gonna be wrecked.”
My control slips, and I lunge across the table. The little fucker is fast, and he tries to stand up but ends up falling over backward in his chair. As he scrambles away laughing, Sanders gets me in a chokehold as I try to walk around the table.
Detectives watching through the two-way rush into the room and grab the asshole from the floor.
With his fist over my chest, firmly gripping my shirt, Sanders addresses the detectives. “We need a break.”
The one closest to us sarcastically lifts his eyebrows. “You think?”
I walk into a different room with Sanders on my heels, and he slams the door behind him and yells. “What the fuck was that?”
Linking my fingers behind my head, I walk in a circle, willing the anger to leave my system. I shouldn’t care so much, but just the ‘what if’ is making me fucking lose my mind. It would fucking kill me if something happened to her. I shouldn’t care about her any more than I would any other civilian. But I do.
I never lose my composure. She’s gotten under my skin.
Kicking one of the chairs that’s pushed under a table, itskids across the floor and hits the wall. It takes a minute, but I get control of my anger and turn to Sanders, hanging my hands on my hips.
We stare at each other for a moment before he speaks. “You’re compromised, and you’re going to fuck up this investigation.”
“I’m not compromised.”
He jerks his head, and his eyebrows fly up to his hairline. “Then what the fuck, Abbot?”
I am compromised, but I’ve got to fix this before it goes any further, he could have me removed from the case. He knows it, and I know it. Just entertaining the thought that she could be removed from my protection and given to someone else makes my stomach sick.
Not only would she feel betrayed and probably never speak to me again, but I don’t think anyone can protect her like I can.
Taking a deep breath, I say, “He just rubbed me the wrong way.”
His eyes narrow, and he mirrors me by putting his hands on his hips, his stupid henley stretching across his chest. “Are you fucking her?”
“Sanders.” My voice is low as I tip my head at him, it’s a warning. He may have the upper hand in this, but I’m still his supervisor.
He takes a step towards me. “This is a reportable offense, and there were multiple witnesses. I need to know if you’re going to fuck up this case. Are. You. Sleeping. With. Her?”
“No, I’m not sleeping with her! No lines have been crossed.” That’s all I’m going to fucking give him. I’ve been avoiding her for two days because when we were in that room together and I kissed her head, I did it blindly, like it was a natural fucking thing that I do every day.
I’m so fucking compromised that I could ruin nearly twoyears of late nights, long fucking weekends, and a year of one step forward and two steps back.
Everything around her is natural, when she busts my balls with that fucking sass of hers, when I watch her walk across the kitchen in the mornings in her skimpy little pajamas while blowing on her giant mug of coffee, which I know is just another way to bust my balls, that are turning blue, by the way. Or when I go into the bathroom and her ‘stuff’ is everywhere. It feels like she’s supposed to be there.
“So, it’s just an attraction?” He asks, breaking through my thoughts.
“It’s a small one, nothing I can’t control. But you heard what he said, Sanders, they were planning on drugging her and using her before they killed her. Doesn’t that piss you off? For any woman?”
He lifts a hand and points a finger at me. “You know as well as I do that’s a fucking skeezball tactic to throw you off, and it fucking worked. He knows it, I know it, and you know it. You fucked up.”
He’s right, I fucked up, and I know it. I’ve never let an interview rankle me, this is the first time I’ve ever lost my cool.
We stand silently in the room, staring at each other. He’s still sizing me up, and I can only pray that he doesn’t report this.
