I glare at him. “Sounds like you and Rock might want a permanent job there. Or better yet, why don’t I arrest your ass and see how you’d like him as a cellmate, maybe?”
“Do it.”
“I will.”
“You can’t prove anythin’,” he mutters after a beat. “And us fightin’ like this isn’t helpin’ matters.”
“You’re right. I came to tell you about the fight I had with my dad and how much I need you.” I don’t even want to be sharing this information with him, but he’s turning me into a blubbering mess.Thisis what he wanted. Me to communicate. So he can have my communication all up in his face and he can fucking suffocate in it. “But instead I’m faced with lies from two of the people I trusted most in the world. I’d expect Dad to be all over my case in a heartbeat, but you? I never thought I’d see the day.”
“I’m all over your case because I love you, and I’m not ever gonna be sorry for that. It was a week. I’ve never kept anythin’ from you before and it cut me up inside not sayin’ somethin’.You think it’s fuckin’ easy readin’ those goddamn letters knowin’ there’s a creep out there who wants to do those things to you?”
“I’m not scared of a bunch of letters, Haze.”
“I think I prefer Aust.”
“Well, you don’t get to decide what I call you.Assholeis another term I’m sure you’re familiar with.”
“There’s no need for name callin’,” he says, exasperation in his tone. “Now, if you can put your pigheadedness aside for a second, what about Hally?”
I ignore the more important part of his statement: Hally. “Pigheadedness? You should talk.”
“I wouldn’t call myself that. I’m more focused than pigheaded.”
“Right. You’refocused.Just keep telling yourself that.” The freaking nerve of this man!
Meanwhile, I focus on the road, not wanting to converse, but knowing I have to.
“Hally,” he goes on. “What are we gonna do?”
“I don’t know whatI’mgoing to do. We had a conversation earlier, and she was perfectly nice, though now that has me suspicious. I would hazard a guess she’s looking up my brother’s details because she feels guilty. Maybe she’s checking up on him, which still isn’t right, nor should she be doing that,” I say. “I’ll broach it with her and see if I can get a feel for what she’s up to. As for the lab? Maybe she was working late, I need to review the footage before I can draw any conclusions.”
“Bringin’ her in for questioning will only arouse suspicions,” Haze says. “Broachin’ the subject could be good, but do it in a way where she thinks you’re just havin’ a conversation. Maybe we keep an eye on her and go from there.”
I don’t know why he keeps saying,we.
“I love how you think you can tell me how to do my job, like I needed your help.” I roll my eyes. “Like I haven’t earned the right to make my own decisions based on gut instinct alone.”
“Again, there’s no need for snark. I’m tryin’ to help.”
Deep down, I know he is. That’s the problem. The issue I have with that is the people closest to me have always tried to keep me in a box my entire life, not Haze, but that’s how it felt for a moment. Maybe I’m overreacting. I still don’t think what he did was right, but a small part of me gets where he was coming from. I’ve kept things from Max, for example, when I thought it would do him good. This isn’t the same thing, but seeing his face drop and his shoulders sag when we left his office has me all mixed up. I’m disappointed because he got together with my dad and had a conversation about me. So screw him.
“You already did enough,” I say. When we pull up to the station, I park in my usual spot.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” Haze says as I reach to unclip my seatbelt.
“Well, you should’ve thought about that before going behind my back. Now I have to relay all of this to the team.”
He swallows. “What if your dad is right that not everyone is happy about your promotion?”
“I doubt this is an inside job, if they didn’t want me in the position, why did they give it to me?” I huff. “And for the record, I don’t want to hear you say his name again. I don’t want to think about how mad I am with him all over again.”
“Some hierarchies are okay with it, some aren’t. That’s how it goes. And I agree for the most part. But if your dad suspects foul play, then that isn’t to be ignored.”
I don’t want to ask him this, but I do anyway. “What’s your gut telling you?”
He meets my eye. “You really want to know?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t, would I?”
