“Yeah.”
“And?”
I grip my phone tighter. “We need to meet. This is bigger than we realized.”
“Because she’s involved or because it just is?”
I don’t like how right he is and it’s pissing me off.
When I don’t answer, he continues. “You like her,” Mason beams. I can hear his damn grin through the phone.
It’s not a question, so I don’t answer.
“That’s gonna complicate things,” he continues.
“It already has.”
“No kidding. Captain Grant heard you were meeting up with the medic from the shootout the other night. I didn’t hear all of it, but there were a lot of expletives being slung around in his office.”
Great, now I’ve got to deal with the captain on my back too.
There’s another pause then his tone shifts. The teasing gone, he’s being serious now. “You thinking straight about this?”
Always. “Yeah.”
“You sure?” he presses. “Because if you-”
“I know what I’m doing,” I butt in.
Do I?
He exhales hard, right into the mic. “Just making sure. We’ve got a case here. And if she’s in proximity-”
“She’s not a suspect.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
I know. I’m grasping at straws here. Because he’s right, she’s going to cloud my attention on this case. But I can’t back away now. She’s too close to it and she’s… too in my head. I need her safe, part of why I’m so compelled to deal with this damn case. I need her to be safe in her own home. I need… her.
Shit, Mason’stooright about this.
“She’s a civilian,” he continues. “Which makes her a liability.”
The word lands wrong. “She’s not a liability,” I say flatly.
“She is if she gets too close.”
My jaw hardens. “She already is,” I reply. “Besides, she fits the demographic and lives in the area. She’s a potential target.”
We’re both silent for a long time, it’s heavy but full of understanding. I hated to admit it, but it’s true. She could easily be a target for this group, whoever it is that’s been trafficking women in the area. She’s the same age range and build as the other victims, both the near grabs and the missing persons cases that have been piling up over the last few months. And she’s pretty, what the traffickers want most. She’s beautiful, which undeniably makes her a potential target.
“Then the question is,” Mason says softly, “what are you going to do about it?”
I don’t answer right away, which is surely tipping him off. But there are options: distance, disengage, keep it professional. Let her stay out of it, that’s the smart move. It’s the right move. The move Ishouldmake.
I don’t want that fucking option.
Not after the way she read her patient like a book the day she responded to the most recent near grab. Not after the look in her eyes when she noticed the vest under my shirt. Not consideringthe way her mind works, writing down potentially connected cases and cataloging them. Not after the way she didn’t back down when I ordered her to get back inside when she ran to me after I got winged the day we met.
