On the Line (Out of Line Book 7) Page 2

Neither did I. “I do miss being your partner… But still, I can’t do it. Not even to her.”

  “Suit yourself,” Hernandez said.

  “Besides, she wouldn’t even want to. She seems to blame me for whatever led to her leaving all those years ago—which makes no sense.”

  Hernandez snorted. “Not at all. She’s the one who screwed you over—not the other way around. She deserves whatever you throw at her, if you ask me.”

  “She didn’t screw me over.” I frowned at my beer. “She just left. People leave.”

  Finn shook his head, surveying the crowd around them. He never chilled and just enjoyed his time. He was always on alert. Always watching. Guess that came with being the son-in-law of a high-profile presidential candidate, though. “Not like that.”

  “Exactly.” Hernandez picked up his beer. “Did you tell her you cried after she left you?”

  I snorted. “No.”

  “Maybe you should,” Hernandez said.

  “Yeah. That’ll scare her off,” Finn added.

  This time, he earned my middle finger.

  “I’m telling you, my plan is flawless. Not only does it allow for a little bit of revenge, but it also gets rid of her. Because we all know what’ll happen if you two get back together again,” Hernandez said cryptically.

  I lifted a brow. “Besides us getting reassigned?”

  “Yep.”

  Sighing, I took the bait against my better judgement and asked, “What?”

  “Well…” Hernandez grinned. “She’ll run off on you again, of course.”

  “Fuck you,” I growled.

  Three

  Sarah

  I walked into my kitchen, rubbing the back of my neck, grimacing at all the knots that had developed since coming back to this town. Since my return, everyone had tried to belittle me, and make me quit. So I’d had to work twice as hard as my coworkers to prove myself…including my partner.

  Part of that was because I was a woman, but most of it was because I was who I was—the girl who had left, and then came back to town with my tail between my legs. If it had been up to me, I never would have set foot back here again, but it hadn’t been up to me, had it? Plastering a smile on my face, I called out, “Grace?”

  Grace came out, wearing blue scrubs today, and a weary look on her face. “Hey. You’re back.”

  “Yes, sorry I’m late, I had to work on a case.” I set my purse on the table next to the millions of prescription bottles. “How is she today?”

  “Not too great,” Grace said slowly. We’d been friends, once upon a time, so when it came time to find a full-time nurse for my mom, it only made sense to go to a familiar face. It had to be someone I could trust, and privacy was a number one priority for me. No one needed to know about my mom’s health issues. I didn’t need even more people doubting my commitment to the job, and my abilities to focus when on the case. They’d use anything to get rid of me.

  Of that I had no doubt.

  Especially my partner.

  “Was she upset?” I asked.

  “For a little while. After the sun went down, like usual.” She sat down, letting out a long sigh. “With dementia, that’s normal. They call it Sundowners Syndrome. Her disease is progressing, and unfortunately it’ll probably be downhill from here, especially in the evenings.” She paused. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you. This isn’t going to be easy.”

  I swallowed hard. “It never is, is it?”

  Grace shook her head. “I’m willing to be here full time, you know that, but ultimately, you might end up having to place her in a home. Sometimes that’s the safest option for dementia patients who require around the clock care.”

  “No.” I rubbed my temples, my heart wrenching at the idea of putting my mother in a facility. “I can do this. I can take care of her.”

  Grace nodded, reaching down to her bag and pulling out a stack of papers and catalogs. “Okay. Here’s the stuff I was telling you about. Also, I included some catalogs. It’s a good idea to change the lock system so she can’t get out in the middle of the night while you’re sleeping.”

  I swallowed past my aching throat. This was too much. The idea of my mother slipping outside unattended while I slept… God, could I do this? Could I oversee my mom’s safety? Could I…? Yes, I could. I had no choice. This was my mother. One way or another, I’d do what I had to do.

  “Th-Thank you,” I managed to say.

  Grace eyed me sympathetically, reaching out and squeezing my hand. “I’m here for you, anything you need, I’m here. Did you tell Ben about your mom?”

  “No, absolutely not.” I pulled free. “No one can know what I’m dealing with. Knowing them, they’d somehow use it against me, and try to say I’m unfit for the job. Captain didn’t even want to let me in, and my old boss had to pull some major favors for me. They’d jump at any opportunity to get rid of me, so I’m not giving them one. What happens in my house is my business, and only mine.”

  Grace shook her head. “I don’t think Ben would do that. He’s a good guy.”

  Yeah, so good he’d cheated on me, and then acted like I’d been the bad guy for running away because it hurt too much. “Yeah. He’s great.” I swallowed, studying Grace’s flushed cheeks. “Did you two… Are you two…?”

  “No.” Grace shook her head. “We had a thing, one night, years ago, but he’s always been nothing but kind to me. I think he’d surprise you, despite your past.”

  I shrugged, not liking the idea of Ben’s hands on my former best friend. We might have ended things years ago, but it still hurt. Out of all the girls in Somerton, he’d had to go after Grace? “Maybe, maybe not. I won’t be finding out.”

  I didn’t trust Ben, not one little bit.

  Grace stood, smiling and tucking her hair behind her ears. “Well, I guess I’ll be going home now. Seven in the morning again?”

  “Yes, please.” I stood too. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.”

  Grace left, closing the door behind her. I took a second to cover my face, take a shuddering breath, and feel sorry for myself—and my mom.

  But that was all I gave myself. One second.

  Then I put my big girl panties on, as my mother used to always say, and made my way into the back of the house, to my mom’s room. “Good evening.”

  As I entered, I braced myself for the moment when my mother looked at me…and had no clue who I was. My mom, whose brown eyes had once held warmth and pride whenever they looked at me, were flat and lifeless as they studied me now. There was no warmth. No pride. Just confusion. “Are you the night nurse tonight?”

  “Yes. I’m the night nurse. Are you hungry?”

  She hesitated. “A little.”

  “What would you like?”

  Mom frowned. “Pudding. I’d like chocolate pudding, with rainbow sprinkles. Don’t be cheap with the sprinkles, they’re my favorite part.”

  “I know,” I managed to say, keeping the smile on my face despite the looming tears. “I’ll give you extra extra sprinkles. I promise.”

  “And check on my baby. I heard her crying earlier.”

  Swallowing past the pain, I nodded, going along with my mother’s words even though it hurt more than I could ever possibly describe. In my mom’s world, I was still a baby, and she was still a young single mother fighting to make ends meet. I’d never known just how much she struggled until she’d forgotten who I was, and talked to me as a colleague, instead of her child. A tear escaped down my cheek, but I angrily swiped it away. “I’ll check on Sarah, don’t worry.”

  Mom relaxed against the pillow. “Good. That child… Honestly, she never stops crying. The girl’s going to have to toughen up.”

  “I’ve got her,” I promised, biting down on my lip so hard it hurt. “I’ll tell her.”

  As I walked out, I swiped the tears off my cheeks and straightened my spine, mentally telling myself to knock it off, and pull it together. I missed my mom. Missed having her arms around me, hu
gging me, and telling me everything would be all right, because God, I needed someone to tell me everything was going to be okay right about now.

  Four

  Ben

  The next morning, I walked over to Sarah’s desk slowly, studying her as I drew closer. She typed furiously, her forehead slightly scrunched in concentration like she used to do back in high school. She was biting her bottom lip as her fingers flew over the keys. Her face looked a little pale today, and she had bags under her eyes, as if she hadn’t slept well the night before.

  Why hadn’t she slept well the night before?

  Had she been with someone? That, of course, was none of my damn business. Not anymore. And yet…I couldn’t stop the jealousy rolling in my gut at the thought of some other man keeping her up late at night. Once upon a time, that had been my job. I’d been good at it.

  That hadn’t stopped her from leaving, though.

  Her long brown hair was pulled back in a sensible bun today, but I knew from memory how soft it felt against my fingers, and how long it was when she let it fall down her back in thick waves. Her medium skin was softer than the finest silks, and her dark brown eyes, when they weren’t glaring at me in frustration, would shine with life and thought. She might only be five-foot-two, but when she was pissed at me (which was often) she gave off the appearance of a much larger woman. I knew that from experience, too.

  All too well.

  As if she sensed my approach, she lifted her head. She did indeed have bags under her eyes, so I’d been right about the not sleeping part. “Late night?” I asked dryly, unable to stop myself.

  She frowned. “Why would you ask me that?”

  “Bags.” I pointed at my eyes. “For days.”

  She lifted her fingers to her cheeks, flushing slightly. “Oh.”

  “Go out dancing?”

  Her lush red lips pressed into a thin line. “No. I didn’t go out dancing.”

  “Oh. A hot date?”

  She slammed her glasses down. “No.”

  “Why are you so angry?” I asked, holding my hands up in surrender. “As I recall, you love hitting the clubs, dancing with strangers, and getting—”

  “That was when I was a teenager,” she snapped, setting her hands into her lap to keep me from seeing how irritated she was. It didn’t work. I saw. I always saw…and I knew all her tricks. “I haven’t gone dancing in a club since my second year at college.”

  I lifted a brow, shifting the file I was holding to my left hand. “Why not?”

  “Because—” She stopped talking, narrowing her eyes. Ah, there it was. The cool disdain she always showed me. “Do you need something, Rollins?”

  If she called me Rollins one more time… I slapped the file on my open palm, forcing a smile I didn’t feel. “Yeah, we have a case. Let’s go.”

  “But I’m still working on—”

  “And now you’re working on another.” I challenged her with my stare. “Unless you can’t handle that? Are you incapable of multitasking?”

  Stiffening, she stood. She wore a plaid shirt tucked into a pair of black trousers, with a black blazer on top. It was professional. Prim. Proper. I still couldn’t take my eyes off her. “I am perfectly capable.”

  “Well, then?” I said cockily, gesturing for the door.

  Saying nothing, she brushed past me, her arm barely touching my abs—yet I felt it. Fuck, did I feel it. Being around her was torturous. It might have been years since she’d been mine, but I’d never gotten over her. Not completely. For me, it had always been her.

  Sometimes I feared it would always be her, too.

  I followed her, doing my best to keep my gaze transfixed on the back of her head, instead of dipping down to her swinging hips. She’d always had a way of walking that kind of made it look like she floated, and the gracefulness with which she moved defied gravity itself. And the way those pants hugged her ass? A gift from heaven itself.

  Halfway toward the door, someone grabbed my arm. Hernandez stepped in front of me. “Dude.”

  “What?” I asked, blinking, snapping out of it.

  “I was just kidding, you know.”

  Now I was really confused—and behind. Sarah was already outside. I shifted my feet restlessly. “About what?”

  “Seducing her.” Hernandez glanced over his shoulder and shuffled closer. “I didn’t mean it. That’s playing dirty, man.”

  I blinked again. “I’m not seducing her.”

  “So, you’re just staring at her like you’re starving and she’s a steak for fun, then?”

  Shit. Had I been staring?

  “Ohhhh.” Hernandez nodded, eyeing me up. “Oh. I see.”

  “You see what?” I asked between clenched teeth.

  “Why this isn’t going to work.” He stepped back, rubbing his jaw. “You still have a thing for her.”

  “I do not.”

  Hernandez snorted. “Yeah. Okay.”

  The door opened, and Sarah stuck her head in, her Ray Bans lowered on her nose. “Rollins? You coming?”

  Hernandez snorted.

  I elbowed him. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

  “No, you’re not,” Hernandez muttered.

  I walked away, ignoring my best friend. As I approached, Sarah held the door for me politely. For some reason, this pissed me off even more. “Thanks,” I said under my breath.

  She eyed me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  She fell into step beside me. “If you say so.”

  “I do.” I took the keys out to my car, unlocking it. “I’m driving.”

  Sighing, she walked to the passenger side of my black Charger. “You always drive.”

  “I saw your driving record.”

  Her cheeks flushed as she slid into her seat. “You did a background check on me?”

  “Of course I did. I always do when I get a new partner.” I started the car and slid my shades into place. “Want to tell me about what happened in that club in North Carolina?”

  Her cheeks went even redder. “Nope.”

  “Fine.” I shrugged. “It won’t beat what I’ve imagined anyway, I’m sure.”

  Her jaw fell. “How could you possibly think something dirty happened that night? You read the report.”

  “It’s my specialty to find dirtiness in everything.”

  “It was nothing like that,” I snapped.

  “Then what was it?”

  “It was none of your damn business,” she said immediately, smiling sweetly at me.

  How did she manage to look like an angel, with the promise of death blazing in her eyes? “Suit yourself.”

  “Want to tell me about December two years ago?” she shot back.

  I backed out of my spot. “Nope.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  I gritted my teeth and pulled out onto the road. “Actually, you know what? I will. I went to the bar, and there was an asshole there picking on a group of out of towners, throwing racial slurs left and right. So I stood up, asked him to leave, and he refused. When he refused?” I shrugged a shoulder. “I showed him the way out personally.”

  “With your fist,” she said softly.

  “Among other things.”

  She nodded, staring out the window. “Good.”

  “I told you mine, now you tell me yours.”

  Sighing, she traced an invisible path on the door. “I was seeing a guy who wasn’t so nice. He got mad at me for talking to my study partner—a cute guy—and punched him. When I tried to stop him, he dragged me away and hit me—”

  I growled under my breath.

  “And broke my nose.” She touched her nose as if it was visible. It wasn’t. “He threatened to kill me if I told them he did it, so I told them I got punched by some girl in a bar fight over a guy.”

  I swallowed hard. “Did he hit you before that?”

  “He…” She stiffened. “Does it matter?”

  “Sarah…”

  Sighing, she fidgeted wit
h her seat belt. “It’s done. He’s gone. It doesn’t matter.”

  Son of a bitch. “Just tell me one thing. Is he in jail?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “He was when I left.”

  He better be in jail. If he wasn’t, I might have to pay him a visit. Then again…maybe it would be better if he wasn’t. Clearly, the man needed someone to remind him how to properly treat a lady.

  And I knew just the way to do so.

  Five

  Sarah

  I shouldn’t have told him that. It was none of his business what kind of bad life choices I had made after I’d left Somerset. Just like it was none of mine what had happened that night he’d gotten himself locked up for a bar fight. But when he’d told me about his secret, it had just seemed right to do the same.

  Sighing, I eyed him carefully. He stared out the windshield, focused on the road, and it took all my willpower not to stare at him. His jaw was so hard and his stubble begged for my fingers to touch it. To see if it was as crisp as I imagined. My fingers twitched in my lap, but instead of finding out, I picked up the file he’d set between us instead.

  As I opened it, he spoke.

  “Domestic violence call.”

  My heart sank, and my palms started to sweat. Out of all the cases to get…

  No. I could do this.

  “The husband has a history of abuse, and no one has heard from the wife for three days. No show for work. No phone calls. No emails. Nothing.” Ben flexed his jaw, his grip on the steering wheel tight. “Her mother called it in, concerned he might have hurt her again.”

  No one had known what Vinnie had done to me. He’d scared me into silence, and had threatened to take everything away from me if I opened my mouth. I’d believed him for too long.

  Pushing my own thoughts aside, I frowned at the file. There were countless reports of abuse, and arrests. I glanced at the family profile, relieved to see there were no children in the home. “We don’t usually make house calls. Why this one?”

  He didn’t bother to deny this was a special exception. “Captain is friends with the mother.”