After about a half minute of silence, he said, “I understand.’
“Understand what?” I asked, still pissed at myself. “Why I threw common sense out the window and almost blew everything?”
“Why you wanted to rush out there and beat the shit out of that guy.”
I shook my head. “I was being stupid. I wasn’t thinking like a cop.”
“That’s bullshit,” he said flatly. “You were thinkin’ exactly like a cop. If you’d had a badge, you would have done the same thing. Only instead of beating the shit out of him, you would have slapped cuffs on him and read him his rights.”
“I’m not sure that’s much better,” I grumbled. “We just established less than two hours ago that I need to stop thinking that way.”
“Why did you become a cop?” His tone demanded an answer.
“Fuck you, Malcolm,” I sneered. It was the last thing I wanted to talk about right now.
“Why did you become a cop?” he repeated, shooting me a dark glare.
“Because I wanted to help people,” I said bitterly. “Like a goddamned Pollyanna.”
“Don’t do that.” His tone softened. “Don’t shit on yourself for that. Because I know you were a good cop, before you became a damn good detective.”
I snorted. “And how do you know that?”
“Because you care about people,” he said. “The ones who can’t help themselves.”
Some of my anger bled off. “How would you know that?” I asked, my tone still sharp.
“I saw the way you tracked down that missin’ girl two months ago. And I knew you weren’t just lookin’ for Hugo Burton because it was your job. You wanted to give his kids closure.”
I breathed in and out a few times. “So?”
“Don’t you get it, Harper?” He shot me a steady look. “That’s why we work so well together. You’re the heart of the two of us.”
I cracked a sardonic grin. “I suppose that makes you the brains?”
“No,” he said, deadpan. “It makes me the muscle. We’re both the brains.”
I considered what he said. “You have heart.”
“Not as much as you,” he scoffed. “And I’m not saying you’re all heart and I’m all brawn. I saw you hold your own with Tex, and I’ve seen her wipe the floor with plenty of well-trained fighters.”
“She was going easy on me.”
He barked a sharp laugh. “She doesn’t go easy on anyone, which is why she offered to spar with you again.” He glanced at me. “What I’m tryin’ to say, and apparently doin’ a shitty job of, is that we balance each other out.”
“But I still fucked up back there,” I said. “You’re right. I was missing the bigger picture.”
“You were thinkin’ like a protector,” he said, “Don’t apologize for that. I’ll pull you back when your protective instincts override the plan, and you’ll be there to rein me in when I want to go scorched earth.”
I turned in my seat to look at him. “What if I want you to go scorched earth?”
“Then grab a flamethrower and join me,” he said, “And when I think you’re doin’ the right thing protectin’ someone, I’ll be right there, kickin’ ass next to you.”
A flood of emotion rushed through me. What I had with James felt too good to be true.
But I was also thinking about that girl—who was probably in the backseat of that white Buick, two cars in front of us.
“I think I made things worse for her,” I said, my voice breaking. “I think he hurt her.”
