My scars itched, my awareness of them drawn to the forefront of my mind, and I clenched my fists tightly to stop myself from scrabbling at my skin like I was due to go into the Common, as I would be shortly. My nails bit into my palms. Pain I could handle. I’d done it before. I could do it again. Feelings though? Vulnerability? Especially with co-workers. That was a whole different beast.
I thrust my shoulders back and owned it. ‘I was tortured, yes. It was the worst experience of my life. I’ve had nightmares and I’ve got scars, but I came out of that, and I rebuilt myself. I am who I am because of everything thatcame before, and that’s important to me. It’s an important facet of my history.’
I didn’t look at either of them while I spoke, focusing instead on the kitchen, where my ghost was agitatedly switching the kettle on and off. On and off.
It was better to watch that flicker than to look at my comrades. If I looked at them, I might see pity, and I didn’t want pity. Not from them. Not from anyone.
‘Immediately afterwards was a very black period in my life,’ I continued in an even voice that didn’t betray the pit of depression I’d struggled with. ‘But I pulled myself out of it, with a psychologist’s help, and now I’m a good cop because Iknowwhat it is to be a victim. I know that fear, that horror. I lived with it. And I joined the force because I wanted to stop others from experiencing the same pain.’ I drew in a breath. ‘I was a beat cop for a while, but I always responded with a shade too much force. In the end, Thackeray hooked me into the Major Incidents Team.’
Ji-ho’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and Channing looked impressed that Thackeray had hand-selected me.
‘He figured I wouldn’t get as many complaints against me if the victims were already dead. He was wrong.’ A rueful smile tugged at my lips. ‘But homicide was one of the first places I fitted in. Where I could do good things. I know the darkness killers live in, and I’m damned proudof putting an end to their nefarious acts, one way or another. I’ve seen more killers added to Wraithmore than any other Inspector in history because I don’t believe death is always the right answer. Some think that’s because I’m soft, but it’s not. It’s because I’m hard. Death is swift, easy. Wraithmore isn’t. Let the fuckers suffer.’ The words came out sharp and clean and vicious. And I meant them.
Channing looked at me with unfiltered awe. ‘You’re amazing. You’ve always been my idol, but this cements it.’
I half-laughed uncomfortably. ‘Channing, don’t put me on a fucking pedestal.’ I jabbed a finger at him in emphasis, then stuffed my hands back into my pockets because they were shaking and I’d rather die than let Channing notice that particular detail. ‘I’ll only fall. But I do appreciate the vote of confidence.’
‘What I went through,’ Ji-ho began, ‘is nothing compared to what you went through.’ His voice cracked on the last word, and he stared hard at the table like the wood grain might contain the answers to life’s greatest mysteries.
‘Fuck that!’ I said sharply. ‘We arenotdoing that. Your experience was awful, and your pain is valid. Just because I went through something bad, it does not in any way diminish or negate whatyouwent through. Not for a second. You lived through your worst fears. You survivedthem. You are brave. You are strong. And this will not break you. But do not, for one second, minimise your trauma.’ The words came out harder than I’d intended, not because I was angry with him, but because I needed him to believe me. I held his gaze and dared him to argue.
Ji-ho took in a shaky breath. His hands were wrapped tightly around his cold coffee mug. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Okay. I’m a fucking mess. Those pictures.’ His voice hitched, and he swallowed hard like the words tasted bitter. He closed his eyes. ‘I wasn’t braced to see you, to see that. And I just need to say that I am so fucking sorry for it all.’
‘Wasn’t your fault,’ I said. ‘Put it away.’ I kept my tone blunt on purpose. Comfort was one thing. Letting him spiral into guilt and anguish was another.
He opened his eyes and looked at me. ‘I’m going to see a psychologist. I’ve decided.’
My heart lifted. ‘Good for you, Ji-ho. I know that’s hard for you, but it’s the right thing to do, and I’m proud of you for doing it. You want another coffee?’
‘God, yes. Please.’
I moved towards the kitchen before Ji-ho could change his mind, grateful for something to do with my hands. I hoped my new coffee machine was simple.
It transpired that it was pretty idiot-proof, and I set the coffee to percolating.
‘Channing, tea? Dr Pepper? Coffee?’
‘Vodka?’ he joked, his smile too quick, too bright. His knee bounced under the table, jerking up and down like his nerves needed an outlet or he’d explode.
‘None of that, I’m afraid. I do have some whisky though. And we’re done here, so you can have two fingers and then the two of you can clear out. We’ll reconvene tomorrow, back at Bridge Street.’
‘I thought Thackeray said forty-eight hours’ absence?’ Channing objected, doing the maths. ‘Unless you’re planning on coming in during the afternoon?’
‘I will have had forty-ish hours off already. That’s enough. I’ll be in at 9am. I need to make sure my precinct is still standing after Elvira’s been in charge for two days.’ Routine was my safety blanket. If I kept moving, I didn’t have to sit still long enough to feel anything too deeply. Didn’t need to give my ghosts power over me.
‘I wouldn’t worry about the office,’ Channing said. ‘We’ve practically all been here with you. How much trouble can Inspector Garcia get into?’
I groaned. ‘Don’t ask.’
Chapter Fifteen
The faint scent of whisky hung in the air. Needing my wits about me, I hadn’t joined Channing and Ji-ho with the smoky malt. For all I’d sent the men home, I was far from done for the day.
I fed Loki some ham and made myself a quick toastie. I gaped when I opened one cupboard and found it overflowing with food. The fridge was the same. At some point, Robbie had gone shopping for me. Either that or I had a grocery fairy.
I ate the gooey cheese toastie with some mayonnaise to dip it in, because I wasn’t a monster, and then I comfort-ate half a pack of Pringles and downed a can of Dr Pepper.
Filled with salt and sugar, I felt better. Calmer. Which meant I was on an even keel when my phone lit up. The screen glowed too brightly in the dim kitchen. Loki clicked his beak once, watching the phone like it might bite. Withgood reason. The screen said:Death calling. My nickname for Bastion.
