Echo nudged my hand and vocalized a weird noise that almost passed for language.
I laughed and scratched her ear. “You’re persistent. Now or never, huh?”
According to Ruiz, Doyle and his husband had returned to work in January after six months of parental leave. Their daughter would be nine months old. I knew nothing about babies, but I had the feeling nine months was a busy age. I didn’t want to bother Doyle in the evening when he was at home with his family, so I figured calling midday was best. If he was on a case, he might not answer, and that was okay. He could return my call when it suited him.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I tapped his number and held the phone to my ear. Closing my eyes, I rested my other hand on Echo’s neck, clinging lightly to her fur and loose skin. My anchor. My rock. She grounded me, and I needed her support more than ever because this phone call was much harder than I anticipated.
Thankfully, pedestrian traffic was thin due to the weather. Cars splashed by in both directions along the road. Swollen rain clouds hung low over the city. A light breeze blew, misting rain under the awning. It dusted my face and coated Echo’s fur.
I shivered, counting rings, ready to hang up if his voicemail answered.
But no. Aslan picked up before that happened, his tone brusque and serious. “Doyle.”
A wash of adrenaline flooded my veins, and I cleared my throat. The words I’d carefully planned vanished, and I fucking stammered. “Um… H-hey. I… It’s… D-diem.”
A pause, and when I was certain he had not heard me properly and I was going to have to repeat myself, he said, “Krause? Shit. I was wondering if you’d call.”
A lightness that would have been more suitable if we were friends or co-workers replaced the stern cop-edge that I hated.
A snarky comment would likely kill any chance of procuring his help, so I bit my tongue and stayed silent, unsure what to say.
Of course, he was not going to let me off that easily. “So. To what do I owe the pleasure on this fine rainy day?”
It was going to be like that. He was going to make me say it. Fair enough. The problem was, I didn’t knowhowto say it.Hi, I’m a fucking train wreck, and instead of barreling headfirst into a brick wall, I thought you might help me.Yeah right.
Instead, I went with, “I got your number from Ruiz.”
“I know.”
I dug my fingers deeper into Echo’s fur, bending so I could rub my nose against her head. She smelled like wet dog, and I almost laughed for no reason at all except that my anxiety was high.
“L-look. I’m not good at this.” I fucking hated it when I tripped over words. I clenched my jaw and continued. “If you don’t throw me a bone, I’m going to hang up, and I don’t want to hang up. I need… I need…”
The word lodged in my throat. It had been so easy during the endless dress rehearsals in the bathroom mirror. Why couldn’t I say it?
Softer, Doyle asked, “What do you need, Krause?”
I squeezed my eyes tighter and thought of Tallus, of the love I had for him that I might never be able to express. About all the times I’d failed him. He deserved a world better, and I wanted to give him the best version of me possible.
“I need help.”
Doyle huffed a laugh. It was not an unkind sound, but somehow one of camaraderie. “It’s a hell of a thing to admit out loud, isn’t it? For the record, it doesn’t make you less of a man. I needed help once too, but it took me to hit rock bottom to admit it.”
I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure how. I’d had no idea Playboy Aslan had ever struggled like me. Rock bottom? I’d landed there at eighteen and hadn’t been able to get my ass off the ground since.
“What’s your vice, Krause? Costa didn’t share, nor is it his place to ask.”
“Alcohol. Cigarettes.”
“Drugs?”
“No, but it’s been a problem in the past. Was in rehab once in my early twenties. Haven’t… Nothing since. I’ve had a few… thoughts, though. I-I haven’t acted.”
“Okay. Good. How do you feel about attending meetings?”
“AA?”
“Yeah.”
