“Well,” I say.
“Gray!”The pretty boy—he must be Robin—is panting as he trots up to us.He reminds me of Martha’s Yorkie.It’s a teacup Yorkie, and when she runs, she pants like that.She bit Gran on the ankle once, and Gran said next time, she’d turn her into a pillbox.“Gray, oh my God, he chargedin here!”
“I didn’t, actually.I asked if I could talk to you, and he pretended you were busy.”I don’t like to be mean, but Detective Dulac did make all those comments earlier, all that beefcake nonsense, so I look at the vape he’s still trying to hide behind his back.
He blushes.Only a little, but I’ve never seen that before either.You’d think it wouldn’t look good with the freckles, but it does—not an all-over blush, but these red circles high in his cheeks.He turns toward Robin.
“He didn’t have an appointment!”Robin squeaks.
“What fucking appointment?”Detective Dulac says.
“I thought he was going to bother you—”
“Out.”
“He was mean!”
“Good fucking Christ,” Detective Dulac says.“There are puppies who are meaner than he is.Get out.And next time somebody wants to talk to me, you send them back to my office.This isn’t the fucking White House.”
Robin slinks out of the room.It takes him a while because he’s sending long, miserable looks to Detective Dulac, and darting nasty little angry ones at me.When he’s finally out, I close the door behind him.Out in the hallway, he makes a noise to let me know how rude I am.
“God fucking damn it,” Detective Dulac says.“Lock it.Barricade it.”
“I think he likes you.”
“Oh yeah?Is that what you think?”And he looks at me in this way I can’t quite parse, like he’s trying to start a fight.Then it’s gone, and he lets out this little laugh and rolls his eyes, like he can’t believe whatever he’s seeing.“Robin’s actually really good at his job most of the time.I don’t know how I’d do this without him.But he’s got a thing for authority figures, I think.If you’d showed up in your uniform, he probably would have creamed himself.”Then Detective Dulac grins.“Want to try and find out?”
I haven’t actuallytalkedto Detective Dulac much.Not one-on-one.But I’ve been around him enough to know two things: first, that’s just how he talks, and it’s not about me, or even really about Robin; and second, he’ll go on all day if you let him.
Since that feeling is back, like something is wiggling its way up inside me—oh God, a part of me thinks that sounds like something Detective Dulac would say—I start talking.“Detective Dulac, I want to talk to you.”
“What?You do?Why?”And then he sits up straight and looks past me, like he can see through the door.“Did John-Henry put you up to this?Is he here?”
“I don’t think so.I didn’t see him.Did he say he was going to be here tonight?”
“No, but you’re here, so—” He stops like the rest of it should be obvious.Then he frowns.“Look, if this is about yesterday, I was kidding around.I’m sorry I ruffled your feathers or whatever.I was in a seriously fucked-up headspace, so please don’t file a sexual harassment charge because that is literally the last thing I need right now.”
“No, that’s not—no.”
He waits as though I might say more.Then he cocks his head, and his mouth softens like he’s about to smile; you can tell, with him, because he always thinks he’s so funny.“Good.”He lowers his voice, and it gets all gravelly, like I’ve never heard it before.“Then I meant it.I’m desperately in love with you, and I want your body right now.But we’re going to have to hurry unless you want Robin to join in.”
It’s not like Imeanto think about it.It only happens because he’s running his mouth again.Just—justthoughts, not really words or images, not like it’s a movie in my head.Impressions.I’ve seen him in the locker room.What his skin must feel like.His voice.I know he’s doing it for fun, but he must soundsomethinglike that, at least a little.
I must be blushing because Detective Dulac laughs again.“God, it’s actually so easy it’s not even any fun, you know that?”
I’m still trying to wade out of those thoughts.My brain isn’t hooked up to my mouth anymore, but somehow I manage to say, “Detective Dulac, I want to volunteer at WISP.”
It takes a moment.And then he says, “Seriously?”
“Yes, sir.”I don’t know why, but as soon as the word is out of my mouth, I blush harder.“I mean, yes, I want to.”I launch into the spiel I’ve been preparing on-and-off all afternoon.“As you know, I’ve received departmental training for working with victims of abuse.I also have experience handling domestic and intimate partner violence.I’m reliable, and I’m a hard worker, and I think I could be an asset to your organization.”
“Yeah, yes, whatever, stop talking.You’re hired.I mean, in the sense that I won’t pay you anything and I will absolutely use you as much as I can.We’ve got to run a background check and get you through some additional training, but in the meantime, I’ve got a shitload of admin work I need you to do.”
This, I know, is where things get tricky.“Actually, Detective Dulac—”
“Knock it off with that.Call me Gray.”And there’s that softness around his mouth again, like he’s playing with a smile and not quite ready to bring it out yet.“Or sir.”
“Well—” I make myself say, “Gray, I actually wanted to be involved in something, um, a little more visible.If you know what I mean.”
