Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
For now, I’m all too happy to lie chest-to-chest with the woman I love.
I realized it over dinner tonight as I gazed into her brown eyes from across the table. I’ve never loved anything or anyone more than I love this girl. Beneath the admiration and the burning desire to claim her, runs a river of devotion so long and winding you could float forever and not reach the end.
Lust and compatible kinks may have brought us together, but the waters of my love for her began making their way into the cracks in my bedrock from the moment she sat in my lap.
“I love you so much, baby,” I whisper, kissing the insides of her wrists. Her gaze widens. She makes a sound that’s a cross between a squeak and a squeal. I swear to God it’s the cutest fucking sound I’ve ever heard.
“I love you, too, Daddy,” she says. “And I’m not just saying that because you said it. I really mean it, I love—” I cut her off with a kiss. She practically vibrates with what I’m fairly sure is pure, unguarded bliss.
Somehow, in the midst of all the pain and darkness in my corner of the world, this lost little girl became the brightest thing in my life. I stroke her back until she eventually falls asleep in my arms with her head tucked under my chin.
Sleep comes to me in fits and spurts. Each time I feel myself start to drift off, something shakes me awake. A stray thought or a niggling question. Concern that the back door might not be locked.
After a few hours of spinning my mental wheels, my limbs start to get restless. Rather than ruin Holly’s sleep alongside mine, I crawl out of bed and feel around for my pants on the weight bench.
I peer into the living room on my way to the kitchen. Austin’s got his head bowed and the TV on mute. I notice his Glock on the coffee table. Last time we had a heart to heart, back when I was still drinking, he told me he’d been sleeping with it under his pillow. Having it on the table seems like a step in a better direction.
I make sure the front door’s locked and then head into the kitchen. I check the back door—also locked—then open the window above the sink to let some fresh air in. It’s a cool night, cooler than it has been in weeks. I get myself a glass of water and grab a seat at the table, take a few deep breaths and try to stop my thoughts from racing.
There’s no doubt in my mind that it was Hoyt Renier I chased out of my apartment. Either King somehow knew I’d been filming at his house and tipped him off, or the drive was stolen from Abby’s desk before Hoyt came for my laptop.
I keep thinking back to Holly’s question. Is it always going to be like this? For people like me who spend their days and nights chasing after evil, the unfortunate answer is yes.
Granted, not every case was as intense as this one, but I’m good at keeping busy and working homicide keeps me busier than most. I needed the work to stay focused. To stop myself from thinking about Vicki.
For the record, I didn’t become a cop to bring justice to the man who killed my sister. He’d been locked up for years for the rape and murder of another girl long before I joined the force.
I became a cop so I could put men like him away before they had a chance to hurt others. So far, I’ve got a pretty good track record doing just that.
However, asking Holly what she wants out of life has me asking myself the same questions.
Vicki had dreams. She was going places. She would’ve wanted me to go places. To have a life and a loving family. If she could see the way I’ve been living, I’m sure she’d be damn disappointed.
Maybe it’s time to do the unthinkable, as in take a voluntary vacation. I could take Holly on a long, relaxing trip to wherever she wants to go. Preferably somewhere far away from all this awfulness.
But even if we went away for a few weeks, she’d have to come back and relive it all for the trial. And whatever cases might be waiting for me upon my return could pull me away from her for days at time.
If my divorce taught me anything, it’s that the way I do my job is not conducive to a healthy relationship. These past few days, I’ve made more promises to Holly than I’ve ever made to any other woman.
Now I’m wondering how good I am for those promises.
My whole life has been a cautionary tale about how what happens when you fail to achieve a proper work-life balance. Then there’s the inherent risk that comes with being a homicide detective. I hunt murderers for a living, which often pits me against the worst of the worst. I haven’t been accountable to anyone besides myself in a long time.