Disappointment swelled and Jesse blinked hard, willing the tears welling up to stay in his eyes. He was tired. Strained. Possibly in shock. Bryce’s professional rejection hurt, but Jesse was pretty sure it was a personal rejection as well. Bryce just didn’t think he was good enough to do the work.
Jesse felt like he needed a long night being held so the next day didn’t hurt so bad. A hookup wasn’t going to provide the same level of connection he’d gotten with Bryce. Somehow, he and Bryce just understood each other. There wasn’t anyone else for five hundred miles he wanted to spoon him.
He’d have to get over it on his own. He hated it, but he could do it.
But he couldn’t look at Bryce anymore.
Bryce seemed to take that as a sign to leave. He gathered up Alex and walked out of the interrogation room. Thankfully, he took the trashcan, too, though the smell lingered.
No fucking way was Jesse going to sit by. They may have taken his evidence and his suspect, but he still had a name. Stan Lawson was the key to figuring out what Crowley Construction was doing, Jesse was sure of it.
A cult. A building that poisoned a neighborhood. A statue that had a psychic presence. Another dimension. There were connections. Jesse just had to find them.
