Page 52

“Fuck you.” Jake shook his head. “You lied to me.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You came to me. To my bed. Knowing there was a dead woman in that river.”

Harrison looked away, breath misting in the air as his nostrils flared through his rampant exhales. “Yes. Okay. You’re right. I did.”

“Then how is that not lying?”

Harrison dropped his head for a second before shoving a hand back through rain-soaked hair. “This is exactly what I warned you about.”

“Warned me?” Jake narrowed his eyes. “I don’t remember you warning me that you’d keep summat like this from me.”

“I warned you this could get complicated.” Harrison rubbed a hand across his face. “I told you that whatever this is between us, and with me investigating things connected to your family, it was a disaster waiting to happen. I knew it. You knew it. We just chose to ignore it.”

Jake folded his arms. “So this is my fault now?”

“No. It’s mine. All mine.” Harrison took another step forward, rain dripping steadily from his hair. “This is my job, Jake. There are things I have to keep separate. Because when I stop doing that, people get hurt. Cases fall apart. Evidence gets contaminated. Families don’t get answers. That’s not me being cruel. That’s me doing the job properly.”

Jake felt something hot twist in his chest. “But you still came to my bed.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I made a mistake.”

Jake faltered back a step as if punched.

Harrison shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Sounded pretty fucking clear to me.”

Harrison closed his eyes and swore under his breath. “When I say mistake, I’m talking about the line. The boundary. Not you.”

“Right.”

“Christ, will you actually listen for a second?”

Jake exhaled hard, breath shaking.

“I shouldn’t have crossed that line.” Harrison held his gaze. “Professionally, I know that. I knew it before and I know it now. But I did it anyway. Because, Christ, Jake, I want this to be something. But if this thing between us is going to continue, then you need to understand that there’ll be things I can’t tell you. Not because I don’t want to. Not because I don’t trust you. Because sometimes I simply can’t.” He stepped closer again. “That’s the reality of this.”

Then he reached out. Slowly. Carefully. Sliding his hand up Jake’s rain-soaked back and along to the side of his neck. Gentle. Tentative. Almost as if he expected Jake to pull away. Which somehow made it worse. Because Jake wanted to lean into it. Wanted the warmth.

Wanted Harrison.

But all he could think about was the word mistake.

And how much it fucking hurt.

So he shoved Harrison hard in the chest and stumbled down the end of the drive, panic and fury knotting together so violently he could barely breathe. He wanted to scream. Punch something. Drop to his knees in the middle of the rain and claw answers out of the fucking ground with his bare hands.

Because thirteen years later and it was still this.

Still waiting.

Not knowing.