Arrest (A Disarm Novel) (23 page)

“My name is Henry and I’m an LEO with the Denver Police Department.” A small chorus of greetings went up from the people in the room.

Unable to meet anyone’s eyes, I fiddled with the buckles on my boot as it jiggled on my knee. “This is my first time here, although I probably should have come a long time ago.”

I finally looked up at some of the faces in the room, at people just like me who had also seen their fair share of the world’s ugliness and lived to talk about it. It gave me the courage to retell my story, starting from the day I found out my best friend had died. I talked for a long while, pausing every now and then to clear my throat, hoping that maybe someone would interrupt with a story of their own. But they were all quiet, all patiently waiting to hear the end of my story.

“So now I’m living in a hotel because I don’t want to cause my wife any more stress. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing, honestly. If I’m just repeating what I did to her a few years ago.”

“Do you think you’re doing the right thing?” someone asked.

I dug through the layers of guilt and confusion and found the answer. “Yes. I believe so.”

After the meeting, a few of the group members came up to me and introduced themselves, saying they too used to be where I was. Talking with them gave me hope, made me start believing that there was a way out of this maze.

Maybe there was hope for me yet.

—

The next day, I went by the Shake Design building to take Elsie out to lunch. The receptionist let me inside, but I wandered around, unable to locate Elsie’s new office.

Kari, thankfully, found me. “Hey! Elsie didn’t mention you were here!” she said, chucking me on the arm.

“She doesn’t know I’m here,” I said, looking around for that familiar head of curly brown hair. “I’m trying to surprise her except I can’t find her new office.”

She laughed. “Come on, Officer Clueless. This way.” She led me down a hallway and stopped in front of a glass-walled room that was currently without its occupant. “She’s in a conference call right now though, so you might have to wait.”

“Thanks,” I said, entering the office and looking around. The glass desk was a little cluttered with papers but the office itself was neat and full of color. I sat down on the white leather chair and picked up a framed photograph of Elsie, Jason, and me taken on Christmas Day in my senior year in high school. There was something sweet about the photograph, an innocence in our faces that we’d long since left behind. It was no wonder then that Elsie preferred to look at it on a daily basis.

“Hey.”

I looked up just as Elsie was coming in. The sight of her knocked the air out of my lungs: She wore a knee-length dress that hugged her new curves in a sensual way, black heels, and bangles on her wrist. With the new way she was styling her shorter hair, she looked like a different person. It seemed almost as if being without me was becoming to her.

I tucked away that ugly thought and went to her. I stopped a foot away, suddenly at a loss how to act.

“Just come here, you big dork,” she said and tugged on my belt, bringing me closer. My arms wrapped around her and my lips pressed themselves to her forehead by instinct.

I let out a contented breath that ruffled her hair. “I missed you.”

“It’s good to see you,” she said when we pulled apart. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to take you out to lunch.”

“Oh, I already ate.” When she saw the disappointment on my face, she added, “But I could go for some lemon froyo with tons of sour gummy worms in it.”

So that’s where we went, to a place called YoYo a few blocks away. We walked on the sidewalk, our entwined hands swinging naturally as we walked.

“So, how are you?” I asked once we sat down with our yogurt.

“Doing okay.”

“And the baby?”

“She’s good. I almost called you the other night because she was kicking so hard.”

Disappointment socked me in the gut. “I should have been there,” I said, stabbing the plastic spoon into my cup.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bother you at work.”

I reached for her hand. “I’m not angry with you. I’m just . . . I wish I’d been there. Next time call me, okay? Whatever time of day.”

“Okay.” She took a bite and looked at me thoughtfully while she chewed.

“Is she kicking right now?” I asked.

“No. Sorry.”

I noticed a spot of yogurt by her lips and scooted my chair closer. “May I?”

She raised an eyebrow then gave the slightest nod. She didn’t know yet what I intended to do but she gave me her trust anyway. Her belief in me was only one of the many reasons why I loved her so much.

I cupped her jaw with my hand and leaned closer. She tipped her head up and closed her eyes just as I touched my lips to the corner of her mouth. My tongue darted out and gently licked the tart cream away.

She was breathing hard when I pulled away, her eyes wide with desire.

“I think I missed a spot,” I said with a grin and proceeded to lick her again.

A mischievous look crossed her face a moment before she lifted the spoon and swiped it across my mouth and over to my jaw. “Oops,” she said with a sparkle in her eye. Then she leaned over and started at my jaw, her tongue warm and wet as it slid across my rough skin and she leisurely made her way to my mouth.

I parted my lips and invited her in, our tongues mingling with sweetness and yearning. I groaned, putting my hand on the back of her head and pulling her closer. My desire roared, my dick springing to life. It had been so long since I’d kissed her like this, and it was a relief to know that even after all this time, our bodies responded to each other with immediacy.

With my hands tangled in her hair, I kissed her, made love to her with my mouth, because God knows I couldn’t do more. With my tongue and my teeth, I teased her, showed her that she’d been missed.

I stopped when I felt her hand on my chest gently pushing me away. “Henry,” she breathed and licked her lips. “People are staring.”

I kept my gaze fixed on the only person in the room who mattered. “I don’t care.”

The corner of her mouth tugged up as her eyes flicked back down to my lips. Yes, if her dilated pupils and ragged breathing were anything to go by, she was as turned on as I was.

Unable to keep from flirting, I whispered in her ear, “Is it true that women in their second trimester are horny as hell?”

She laugh-gasped, her creamy skin taking on a pink tinge. “Very true. God, some nights I have to . . .” She paused, her gaze traveling all over my body. “You know.”

It took all of my willpower to stay in that plastic seat and keep my hands to myself. I adjusted my pants, letting her know that they were already uncomfortably tight. “No, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me about it?”

Her eyes flicked around the room. Our yogurt sat forgotten, melting away, as she leaned over and murmured against my ear, “I have to use the BOB just to get some relief. But nothing, not even those damned plastic bunny ears that flick rapidly, can give me what I really want.”

“And what is it you really want, Els?”

The corner of her mouth tugged up. Her voice took on a raspy grit as she said almost inaudibly, “You sliding inside me, filling me up completely. I want to squeeze you over and over, want to see that look on your face when your jaw clenches and you say my name right before you come. You always make this sound like a moan between ecstasy and agony. And those deep, little thrusts at the end, like you still can’t get enough.”

I let out a shuddering breath. “Take the rest of the day off,” I said, grasping her hand and fighting the urge to press it against my erection. “Let me take care of your needs.”

“I can’t. I have another meeting at three thirty. But for what it’s worth, I really,
really
want to.” She touched her finger to my lower lip and I pulled it into my mouth and sucked on it. “You know, you can just come home.”

Reality crept in, reminding me why we were here to begin with. “I can’t. Not until I’m good again.”

Her eyes misted over as she nodded. “I miss you.”

I kissed her forehead and sighed. “I’m working on it, Els. I finally took your advice and went to a support group the other night.”

“And?” Hope broke out over her delicate features.

“It was good. It felt good to talk about it.” She opened her mouth but I beat her to the punch. “To people who don’t know me, who don’t know my history.”

“It’s a step in the right direction.”

I nodded, wishing I had even half of her optimism. “It is. I hope.”

“I started to go to a group too,” she said. “It helps knowing that I’m not the only one going through this.”

“You know you don’t have to do that, right? I’m the one with the issue.”

“No, Henry,” she said, squeezing my hand. “We’re in this together, remember?”

I tucked a strand of wavy hair behind her ear, caressing her cheek with my thumb. “Okay.”

On the way back to Shake, Elsie said, “Remember how you told Dr. Galicia that you never stole anything from my parents’ house?”

“Yeah?”

“Well you lied,” she said with a grin. But before I could issue a rebuttal, she added, “You pocketed my heart and never gave it back.”

I pulled her close and breathed her in. “And I never will.”

—

On my day off, I went by the station after being summoned by the chief. I stood in front of his desk and waited with my spine straight.

He looked over a piece of paper before saying, “You’ve been officially cleared of the charges.”

I kept my gaze ahead, to a point above his head. “Thank you, sir.”

“I hope that eases your mind a little.”

I didn’t reply because I had none.

Chief Ross took his glasses off and placed them on the desk. “Look, Logan. Things like this, they happen all the time. You’ll probably shoot many more men in your lifetime. It’s only human nature to regret that, to question your choices. But I need you to get your head in the game. If you don’t, it might just get you killed.”

I nodded, finally meeting his eyes. “I’m trying, sir.”

He didn’t blink. “Try harder.”

—

Even though it was one in the afternoon, I headed to Shooters to ponder the verdict over a beer. Was I really not guilty? Because last I checked, I pulled the trigger that propelled the bullet that killed that motherfucker.

“Excuse me.”

I looked up to find an attractive brunette in a tank top and short shorts taking the stool next to mine.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I was sitting in the corner over there and couldn’t help but notice you.”

Great, another badge bunny. Just what I needed. “Thanks, I’m flattered but . . .”

Before I could show her my ring, she touched my arm and said, “I just wanted to come over to make sure you’re okay. You looked so miserable.”

I lifted my left hand. “I’m married.”

Her brown eyes looked at me in sympathy. “Your marriage is on the rocks?” she asked. “Is that why you’re drinking this early in the day?”

I barked out a laugh. “No, my wife is not the reason why I’m drinking this early in the day.”

She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Then what could possibly drive a man like you to drown your sorrows in alcohol?”

I leaned over, getting a whiff of her perfume. It smelled expensive. “You really want to know?” I asked with a smile playing along my lips.

She tipped her head toward me and nodded. She really was very pretty, her makeup and hair tastefully done and not trashy.

I let my mouth stretch out to an all-out smile. “I killed a man and got off scot-free.”

Her recoil was so fast, she might have incurred whiplash. “Say that again?”

I laughed. “Relax, Internal Affairs deemed me not guilty.”

Indecision filled her eyes; she really didn’t know how to come at me. Finally, she gave a soft laugh. “You’re hot, you know that? Demented but hot.”

I tipped my bottle and finished the last of my beer. “That’s me in a nutshell.” I stood up and threw a five on the bar.

She grabbed my wrist, also rising to her feet. “You want to get out of here?” she asked with a sultry voice. “I’d like to know the reason why you’re so fucked up.”

I raised my eyebrows in apology. “I’m sorry but Mrs. Demented but Hot is waiting for me to come home.”

—

I set the bag of groceries onto the counter, taking note of the time before getting out the chopping board. Elsie said she’d be home around five thirty, which meant I had only thirty minutes to cook a romantic but healthy meal.

She’d mentioned a week ago that her blood work showed she was low in iron, so I planned on making grilled steak kabobs. Easy and satisfying.

When she came home, I greeted her in the foyer and grabbed her bags, setting them down on the floor. Then I immediately took her face in my hands and kissed her like I’d wanted to do all day.

She looked a little dazed when I pulled away, but she stopped and sniffed the air. “What’s that I smell? Did you make me dinner?”

I kissed her again—one quick peck for the road—before taking her hand and leading her to the kitchen to show her the dining table that was arranged with place settings and flowers at the center.

“It’s lovely,” she said, touching a finger to the bouquet of daisies.

“Do I need an occasion to surprise my wife?”

“I guess not.”

—

After she went upstairs to “freshen up”—whatever that meant—we sat down and started eating. Elsie, who’s normally not a fan of steak, ate her kabobs with gusto.

“You like it?” I asked after she’d eaten half from her first skewer.

She shrugged. “Beats eating ramen noodles.”

“You don’t really eat ramen noodles for dinner, right?” I asked. “That’s not healthy.”

She laughed. “Simmer down, Officer Logan. I was kidding. Yes, I’m eating healthy. Yes, I’m taking my prenatals. And yes, I’m getting plenty of sleep. Would you like to take my blood pressure?”

I grinned. Even when cranky Elsie was cute. “No, I believe you.”

I told her about the verdict during dinner, and though I knew she really wanted to ask if it alleviated my worries, she didn’t say a word. I realized then that she was treading carefully around me, as if one wrong step would crack my thin surface and send me sinking back down into cold waters.