I need this to end.”
I pulled her into a hug, feeling her body tremble against mine. This was taking its toll on everyone here, but I was starting to think this girl, a girl who’d already dealt with more shit than any one person should, was reaching her breaking point. “I know, darlin’.” I gave her a squeeze, hoping like hell it offered at least a small bit of comfort. “We’re gonna get this guy. We’ll get him and shut this shit down once and for all, and you’ll never have to worry about it again. You have my word.”
Dalton came up to us, and I shifted Charlie in my arms, twisting her around so he could take over comforting her. I knew, as soon as she burrowed in instead of pulling away, that she was at the end of her rope.
We needed to end this. Because Sidney Callo deserved justice for her husband. And because Charlie Belmont deserved to finally have a good life.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hayden
I felt like I’d spent the week walking on eggshells. I knew with the kind of job Micah had, his hours could be erratic, and some cases might weigh heavily on his mind, but as the month ticked by, it felt like he was living in a constant state of stress.
The first red flag had gone up when his phone started going off constantly. If he was with me when it did, he’d either ignore it or take it into another room, always saying it was a work thing. The second happened when I began to ask him what was going on. All he’d tell me was that it had to do with a case, but that he couldn’t tell me any more about it.
My mind had gone back to when he and Dani had both warned me to stay away from Greg Cormack. Micah had gone so far as to tell me the man was dangerous, but no matter how many times I’d asked him to explain, his response was always the same. “I can’t tell you right now, Red. But I swear I will as soon as I can.”
As much as it pained me, I pushed that all to the back of my mind, telling myself it was just residual uncertainty left over from my relationship with Alex, and that I was putting past experiences on Micah when he didn’t deserve it. After all, when we were together, he was still as affectionate and demonstrative as always. There hadn’t been a day that passed where we hadn’t had sex at least once. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of me. And at night, he’d hold me so close it felt like he was trying to become a part of me.
The biggest, most glaringly obvious flag came two nights ago, after he’d left in the middle of the night, claiming another work thing. I’d tried waiting up for him, determined to get answers no matter what, but the more time that passed, the harder it was to keep my eyes open, and eventually I fell into a fitful sleep.
I’d woken when he climbed back into bed over an hour later. When he’d rolled me into him and held me close, I caught a faint smell of perfume on his skin—the sweet, scent I’d never worn before, like chocolate and caramel and vanilla. I leaned toward subtle floral body washes and lotions, and what I was smelling on his skin was more gourmand. Definitely not my style.
He’d fallen asleep quickly, while I’d lain there awake, fighting back tears. I’d spent the next two days trying to rationalize what I’d discovered, desperate to make all the pieces fit together to form a puzzle of my liking, because the truth of it was, I was in love with him, and the fear of finding out the truth made me choke up each and every time I attempted to confront him.
I’d gone as far as calling Dani to ask what she knew, but when she answered I chickened out and pretended I’d called just to shoot the breeze.
When I woke up this morning to him rolling me over onto my back so he could kiss me long and slow before he left for work, my heart cracked, a jagged, ugly tear that stretched right down the center. I realized I had reverted back to my old ways, burying my head in the sand and pretending everything wasn’t slowly circling the drain instead of being the woman