Brian watched him, searching for any expression changes or tells. “The shot was close range—somebody looked you and Malik in the face and pulled the trigger. And since your ass was on the pavement right next to his when officers rolled up, it’s a little hard to believe you didn’t see who shot you.”
Jayden’s jaw flexed, but he stayed quiet.
Rafe picked up where his partner left off, his tone still casual. “So let me guess—you had a run-in with the Devil’s Crew? Diego got pissed off and started shooting, or was it one of the other idiots in his gang?”
Jayden’s eyes widened for a split second—fast, involuntary—before he closed them. His hands clenched into fists. “I said I didn’t see who it was. Just leave me the fuck alone.”
Brian let the silence settle. He’d broken harder cases on silence alone. Jayden returned to staring at the TV.
Rafe exhaled. “Suit yourself. You’re not the first kid to pick the wrong side of this decision.”
Nothing.
Brian set a card on the tray table—not pushing it toward him, just leaving it. “If you change your mind, you know how to reach us.”
Jayden didn’t look at it.
They stepped into the hall and let the door click shut behind them. While Cruz thought they were done with him, they were just getting started and would be back later to lean on him a bit harder.
After saying goodbye to the officer on duty, they walked down the corridor, the floor squeaking under their shoes.
“Stubborn little shit,” Rafe muttered. “They wear loyalty like a badge, but it only gets them killed before they’re old enough to legally drink.”
Brian’s jaw tightened. Instead of waiting for the elevator, he headed for the stairs. “He knows it was Diego.”
“Yeah. And Diego probably already knows Cruz is still alive. Which makes him about as safe as a lit match in a fireworks factory.”
Instead of focusing on the case and what little they had to go on, his mind betrayed him, slipping back to the morgue. To Tess. The way she’d moved—quiet, sure-handed, completely composed under the harsh lights. The way her eyes had found his, calm and steady, like she comprehended more than he wantedher to. It had hit him like sunlight in a place that hadn’t seen light in a long time.
“Man,” his partner said as they pushed through the stairwell door, “you’re not even listening to me.”
He blinked, snapping back. “I’m listening.”
“No, you’re not. You’re still back there staring at Hansen’s assistant like she’s the last beer in the cooler.”
His jaw flexed, a scowl tugging at his mouth before he could stop it. “Drop it.”
Rafe smirked, clattering down the steps beside him. “You two keep looking at each other like teenagers who just discovered hormones. Don’t tell me it’s nothing.”
Brian stayed silent, grinding his teeth so hard he was surprised they didn’t crack. He picked up his pace.
Now behind him, Rafe chuckled. “Jesus, Malone, it’s not complicated. You want her. She wants you. Quit acting like the world’s gonna end if you admit it.”
“It’s not that simple.” He shoved through the lobby doors, greeted by a sky every bit as gray and heavy as his mood. The forecast had called for rain, and it was almost upon them.
“Sure it is.” Rafe caught up and shot him a look that was equal parts exasperated and amused. “You’ve been living by that no-attachments rule since before I met you. Maybe it worked back then. But now?” He clapped Brian on the shoulder. “Now you’ve got someone worth breaking it for. Just go for it.”
Brian didn’t answer. He unlocked the car and slidbehind the wheel, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the sky hung dull and heavy, matching the weight in his chest. His partner was wrong—it was complicated as hell.
But that didn’t change the truth—Tess was in his head, and he had no idea how to get her out. And the worst part was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
Chapter 15
Tess stood in front of the mirror, smoothing her hands down the soft fabric of her dress, nerves skittering in her chest like loose sparks. Friday night. A real date. She wasn’t sure how it had happened—only that after their walk on the beach followed by lunch the other day, she and Brian had traded a few easy texts, the kind that made her smile at odd moments. And then that morning, while she sipped her cappuccino and went through the list of the day’s scheduled autopsies, her phone had lit up with his name. Her heart skipped a beat in anticipation of hearing his voice again as she answered the call.
After brief pleasantries, he asked, “Have dinner with me tonight, please?”
The question was more like a statement, leaving no room for argument. It took her a beat too long toanswer, and she still wasn’t sure if her yes had sounded as breathless as it felt.
