“Peter,” a female voice said from inside the apartment. “Who is it?”
He reached behind him for the blonde bimbo. “My ex-wife. She misses me.”
Sam flashed her badge. “Do yourself a favor, sweetheart.” Sam leaned in closer to the startled young woman. “
Run.
As fast and as far away as you can.”
“That’s it,” Peter said, thrusting the girl back into his apartment. “Conversation over.”
When he would’ve slammed the door in her face, Sam stopped it with her hand. “Don’t fuck with me or mine, or I swear I’ll make your life a living hell.”
“Too late. You already have.”
Since she’d said what she needed to, she let him have the last word. Unfortunately, she believed him when he said he had no idea what she was talking about. If he wasn’t her vindictive pen pal, who was?
Thrilled to be on his way home and longing for his bed and his girl, Freddie parked outside his apartment building and jogged to the door. The second he became aware of a dark shadow in the entryway, he reached for his weapon. “Freeze!”
“It’s me, Frederico,” his mother said.
“For God’s sake, Mom! What’re you doing? It’s five in the morning. I could’ve shot you.”
“You haven’t answered my calls, so I was hoping to catch you before work.”
He reholstered his gun. “Were you planning to skulk around out here for two more hours?”
She folded her arms and gave him her best mulish expression. “If I had to. You’re avoiding me. Want to tell me why?”
A jolt of anger lanced through him, and he fought it back. This was his mother, and as furious as he was with her at the moment, he refused to show her an ounce of disrespect. She’d raised him better than that.
Juliette Cruz reached up to caress his face. “What is it, Freddie?”
“
What’re you doing with him?
I saw you!” The words tumbled from his mouth in a rush of emotion, and suddenly he was ten years old again and wondering what he’d done to drive his father from their lives.
“Oh, honey,” she said with a sigh as her hand dropped to her side. “I’m so sorry you were caught off guard.”
“
Off guard?
Seeing you with him was one of the most shocking moments of my entire life. Tell me you’re not back with him, Mom. I swear to God—”
“Don’t swear to God.” She linked her arm through his and drew him away from the building, away from the windows of sleeping neighbors. “Take a walk with me.”
Even though he feared what he might hear and craved Elin’s warm body, Freddie went with his mother. The conversation with Sam echoed in his mind, reminding him of his promise to address the issue with his mother.
“Are you back with him, Mom? That’s all I want to know.”
Juliette hesitated before she answered. “It’s complicated.”
Freddie let out a huff of disbelief and tugged his arm free. “You have to be kidding me.
He left us!
You had to work three jobs to support us, and you had no life of your own for years because all you did was work. If you tell me you’re taking him back after all that—”
“Frederico Cruz,
listen to me!
”
Chastened by her unusually stern tone, Freddie forced himself to breathe normally and listen to what she had to say.
“I ran into him at a restaurant about six months ago.”
“Six months? When were you going to tell me?”
“Soon. I’d planned to talk to you about this very soon.”
“Sure,” he said, not bothering to hide the bitterness.
Even though he could tell she didn’t care for his tone, she pressed on. “Needless to say, I was shocked to see him. I had no idea he was back in town.”
Freddie stared at her. “Did you know where he was? All the time he was gone, did you know?”
She shook her head. “I only suspected he was probably in the Midwest with his mother’s family. He was always close to them and had talked about wanting to move back there someday. When he disappeared, I assumed that’s where he’d gone.”
“If you knew where he was, why didn’t you try to find him?”
“Because he left, Freddie. I refused to go chasing after him. Clearly, he preferred to be elsewhere.”
Freddie’s mind was spinning as he tried to process it all.
“The night I saw him, in the restaurant, he asked if he could have thirty minutes of my time. At first I said no, but he said it was important and that I needed to hear what he had to say.”
“It’s probably a pack of lies. You shouldn’t have let him suck you in.”
“Do you know why I did?”
“I can’t imagine.”
“I did it for you. So I could get some answers to the questions you used to ask me when you were little. Do you remember?”
A stab of pain struck him right in the heart as he traveled back in time.
Doesn’t my daddy love me? Why did he leave me? What did I do? When will he be back?
He’d asked the questions over and over for years until she pleaded with him not to anymore. She didn’t have any of the answers he’d needed.
“Yes,” he said softly, not sure he was any more prepared to hear the answers now than he’d been then.
“When I finally agreed to meet with him, he told me something I’d never heard before.” She took a deep breath and under the glow of the streetlight he noticed her hands were shaking. “When he was twenty-one, he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Do you know what that is?”
Freddie nodded. He’d seen plenty of it on the job.
“Apparently at that time, he had a major breakdown and was hospitalized for a few months. Afterward, he was able to manage his illness with medication. In all the years we were together, I never knew. That’s something I’m still coming to terms with—that I could’ve been married to a man coping with something so significant and not had the first inkling of what he dealt with every day of his life.”
“If he was well medicated, what was he dealing with?” Freddie asked, unwilling to forgive and forget.
“The fear of it coming back. Even when he was in the midst of the first breakdown, he was still somewhat aware of what was happening to him, that his behavior wasn’t normal. He said it was the most frightening thing he’s ever been through, and he lived in mortal fear of another episode for years after the first one.”
Freddie had no idea what to make of any of this. “Why didn’t he say anything?”
“You have to remember, son, this was twenty years ago. People went to great lengths to hide mental health disorders because of the stigma attached to them. We’ve made great strides since then, but back then…” She shrugged. “I wish I could say I would’ve been supportive and understanding, but more than anything, I probably would’ve been terrified.”
“So what does he want? Why did he come back?”
“You may find this hard to believe, but he’s concerned about you.”
Everything in him tried to rise up and reject any overture from his deadbeat father, but the ten-year-old living deep inside couldn’t help being intrigued by his father’s interest in him. “Why me?”
“Bipolar disorder can run in families.”
Freddie let that settle for a minute. “I’m not bipolar.”
“I know, and I told him that. He was extremely relieved.”
Freddie shook his head in disbelief. “I find it hard to swallow that he’s suddenly concerned about me when he left without a word twenty years ago and hasn’t shown a lick of interest in me since.”
“He left because he had another breakdown. He was in the hospital for a year this time, and by the time he was released he figured he wouldn’t be welcome with us, which was probably true.”
Freddie stood with his hands on his hips, every inch of him rigid with tension and despair and a multitude of other emotions he couldn’t begin to identify. “And you just believe all of this? Where’s the proof?”
“He showed me the records from both hospitalizations as well as a third one from five years ago. He’s telling the truth, Freddie.” Her quiet dignity in the face of what had to be life-altering information for her, too, struck him as odd, but then again she’d had months to absorb what he was only now hearing. Then she dropped the final bomb. “He wants to see you.”
“No. Absolutely not.” The words erupted from his mouth.
“I told him you’d say that, and he understood. He wants you to know he’s so proud of you and how you grew up to be such a fine man and outstanding police officer. I told him how you’d been shot earlier this year, and he was very upset to hear that.” She paused before she added, “And I told him I think you might be in love for the first time.”
Startled by her acknowledgement, Freddie let his gaze meet hers. “Did you tell him how much you hate her or how difficult you’ve made things for me?” Freddie knew it wasn’t fair to lash out at her, that none of this was her fault—except the part about her hating Elin—but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
“That’s between you and me,” his mother said. “It’s our business.”
“And Elin’s, since she’s the one I love and you hate.”
“I don’t hate her or anyone.”
“You certainly act like you hate her, but that’s your problem not mine. I love her, she loves me and we’re moving in together.”
Juliette gasped. “But you’re not married!”
“No, we’re not. Maybe we would’ve gotten married if my mother hadn’t hated her so much, but whatever.”
“Honestly, Freddie, I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”
“Ditto.”
They stood there staring at each other for a long moment until he finally looked away, unable to bear the pain he saw in her eyes.
“I need to go to bed,” he said. “I have to be back to work in a couple of hours.”
“Will you think about seeing your father? He’s only asking for a few minutes of your time.”
“He’s asking for much more than that, and you know it as well as I do. I won’t see him, and as long as you’re seeing him, I won’t see you, either.”
“Freddie! For goodness sakes! What has gotten into you?”
“Take care, Mom.” Since they had ended up by her car, he walked away with a heavy heart. Even as he said no to seeing his father, a small part of him was curious. “Curiosity killed the cat,” he muttered as he entered the building and took the stairs two at a time. In his apartment, he shed his clothes in the living room, set the alarm on his phone and slid into bed with his girl. Her warm softness went a long way toward curing what ailed him.
Even though he was exhausted and emotionally drained after the exchange with his mother, he lay awake for a long time thinking about what she’d told him. By the time sleep finally claimed him, he still had no idea what he was going to do about it.
Jeannie got up early to take a shower. The trembling began as she squeezed liquid soap into a loofa. Recognizing the signs of the panic attacks that had plagued her since the rape, she stepped out of the shower and gripped the sink. Her heart raced, her stomach surged with nausea and her legs were so unsteady she sank down to the closed toilet. As she struggled to get air to her lungs, tears poured from her eyes, an unstoppable river of pain.
That was where Michael found her.
She had no idea how long she’d been there by then.
He, too, had become accustomed to the attacks and scooped her up into his arms to carry her into the bedroom. Sitting on the bed, he kept her on his lap. “Breathe, baby,” he said. “
Breathe,
Jeannie.”
Focusing on the sound of his voice, she forced air into her lungs. One breath at a time, her heart rate returned to normal but the trembling continued.
“Keep breathing,” he said.
Jeannie clutched the hand he offered, holding on for dear life. At some point she’d lost her towel, and suddenly she was cold.
Michael reached for a blanket at the foot of the bed and covered her.
“Sorry,” she said through chattering teeth.
“Don’t apologize. Ever. None of this is your fault.”
“Need to get ready. Will’s going to be here soon.”
“Baby, come on. You can’t go today. The trip caused the panic attack. Don’t you see that?”
“It’s my case. I have to go.”
“You don’t have to go. Send Will. He can handle it. You know that. What if this happens again while you’re away?”
Jeannie was about to argue with him, but then she noticed the dampness on his face.
Using the corner of the blanket, he dried the tears from his cheeks.
“Michael…”
“I can’t bear to see you suffer. I can’t bear it.”
Hearing her strong, fearless boyfriend so defeated made her ache. “I won’t go.”
“Not because of me.”
“Because you’re right. I’m not ready.”
Michael tightened his arms around her. “I’ll stay home today too. We’ll spend the day together.”
“Are you sure you can do that?”
“It’s fine.”
“Let me call Will.” Jeannie attempted to get up from his lap but her legs faltered.
Michael got up and steadied her. “Sit. I’ll get you the phone.”
Jeannie made the call and then slid into bed, feeling worn out from the battle. She’d been so certain yesterday that she had beaten back her demons, that she’d be able to go to Cincinnati and come back with the information Sam had asked her to get.
Michael called his office and then joined her in bed. His body was warm and comforting as he wrapped his arms around her. “You’re going to be okay, Jeannie. You’re not quite there yet, but you’re getting closer.”
“You sure about that?”
“Mmm hmm.”
Suddenly she became aware they were both naked, and he was aroused. She shifted to her back so she could see his face. His eyes were closed, but his jaw twitched with tension. She hated that she was putting him through such a painful ordeal. Her hand found its way to his face where she attempted to caress away the tension.
“Feels good,” he whispered, “to have you touch me again.”
Jeannie leaned in to press her lips to his. At that, his eyes flew open.
He kept his gaze locked on hers as their lips met.
She ran her tongue over his bottom lip, drawing a gasp from him.
He stayed perfectly still, letting her take the lead as the kiss became more sensual, as tongues met and mated.
“Touch me, Michael,” she said, breathless from the passionate kiss.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded and went back for more as his arms encircled her. As his hands moved slowly over her back, she realized he was making an effort to hold back, to keep from scaring her. The knowledge saddened her, especially when she remembered the passionate no-holds-barred lover he’d been before she was brutally raped.
“What?” he asked.
Startled by the question, she raised her head to look him in the eye.
“You got tense all of a sudden. What’re you thinking?” He brushed the hair back from her face and ran a finger over her lips.
“I want you. I want
this.
I’m just afraid I’ll freak out at the last minute like I did the other night. I don’t want to ruin it again.”