Of Death & Virtue

chapter eleven :: before someone gets hurt

I squeeze my eyes shut. "That's the problem — I don't need help." My voice gets heavy. "And you shouldn't care. We've been down that road and it didn't end well."

Part of me expects him to fight back — to defend himself and his feelings. Hell, even to say anything. But he doesn't. I force myself to keep my eyes on the window because it might kill me to read his expression right now.

We weren't always like this. When we were partnered up after my transfer to homicide, I thought he was too pretty to be a cop — like one of those actors on a procedural drama series; dark, mysterious eyes and a captivating smile. And I quickly found out he wasn't only the nicest cop I ever met, but also the nicest person I ever met.

It also wasn't a downside that I could read him pretty well. For a while, those eyes of his hid a bit from me, but as we spent more time in that cramped car of his, he opened up. Soon, there wasn't much of anything he could hide.

Not even his feelings for me.

You could say I was taken aback, but that's quite the understatement. My heart fell to my feet and I lost sense of time and space. I didn't want to believe it — mostly because I was worried I would lose my best partner. But the more I thought about it, I could feel it too. That warmth in my chest, the lovesick feeling in my stomach that made me want to call him. To see him.

He didn't know that I knew. But of course, in his usual Drake way, he could tell something was bugging me. At the time, we had traveled to Pennsylvania chasing a suspect. We were sitting at the hotel bar, trying to blend in. But I guess we got a little lost in our roles because we were having too much fun laughing and talking. And I, with my stupid impulsive self, leaned in and planted a kiss on him.

His eyes went wide and his mouth parted. All he managed to say was, "Jenny..." And that only made me want him more.

Let's just say we barely made it to the room before we took each other's clothes off.

But in the morning, the room smelled of regret. I could feel it on him and it burned inside of me. For Drake, he crossed a line. He thinks hooking up with a coworker is a recipe for disaster. But for me, I didn't want to ruin the one good thing in my life. Sadly, that one good thing happened to be him.

I could tell he wanted to see if we could make it work. But it was my idea to cut it off there before we returned to New York. "If we stop now, no one will get hurt," I said. But it might've been too late because sometimes I catch that look in his eye or hear that strain in his voice.

Like I did a few moments ago.

The car pulls into the parking lot of my apartment complex. Drake parks and turns in his seat. He starts to reach out towards me but stops before he crosses the center console completely.

"I can walk you in. If you want," he says softly.

"No," I say with a shake of my head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Before he can say anything, I open the door and step out. I walk to the doors, reminding myself that it's okay to give him the cold shoulder. Before someone gets hurt. But which one of us?

When I get to my floor, I pause in my tracks. Right outside my apartment door is a large box. And I mean fucking huge.

Oh shit. I completely forgot about the new mattress I ordered. I had to replace my old one from the blood. It's still in my bedroom; I don't know how to get rid of it yet.

Down the hall behind me, a door creaks open. I turn around to see my neighbor Reese step out. He offers a friendly wave.

"Hey, Jennifer," he says, then points to the box. "I hope you don't mind, but I signed for your package. The UPS guy needed a signature and said he wouldn't leave it without one."