Page 14 of Follows with Intent

Jadon watched him go and shook his head. “That’s a walking case of sexual harassment.”

“Are you going to report him?”

“Are you kidding? He’d probably molest the HR person.”

With a quiet laugh, Allison shook her short bob of wavy blond hair. She was one of those women who were cursed to be both good at their jobs and unwilling to put up with bullshit, which meant that instead of being a lieutenant or even a sergeant, she was still a detective. She’d told him over too many margaritas, once, about the time she’d punched a drone from the Public Information Division who’d told her she was too pretty to waste on patrol.

For a few moments, the hum of background conversations filled the air between them. Then Jadon said, “I need to stay focused right now.”

Allison nodded.

“I’ve got a lot on my plate. The captain is gunning for me, I found out, and I’ve got these campus assaults going on that nobody seems to care about except me—”

“Which is why you’re here,” Allison said, “which is why you’re—how did Cerise put it? Getting your shit together. Right? Because you’re not going to give that fuck-off any more ammunition.”

“—and it’s not a good time for me. I can’t afford to get distracted.”

He didn’t say again. But Allison knew; everybody knew. He’d met Shaw Aldrich, and he’d been head over heels. He’d been in love, actually. And that meant he’d had his head in the clouds. That was why Barr was able to get away with what he did—the kidnappings, the torture, the killings. And that was why Jadon hadn’t had any idea what his partner was up to, not until it was too late.

Allison made a soft noise. “Jay, I get it, but—”

She cut herself off, and Jadon made a gimme gesture. “But?”

“I don’t know. Did you ever think that maybe—just maybe—you need to blow off some steam?”

“I’m sorry, are you telling me I need to get laid?”

“Well, you do.” Allison’s laugh had a trace of defensiveness, but it was still a laugh. “You’ve been running yourself into the ground; everybody can see it. You’re not taking care of yourself. You’re—” She stopped again.

“Falling apart?”

“Not happy. And you deserve to be happy.”

They’d put a bag over his head; he remembered that. Even when they’d used knives, even when they’d used jumper cables, the real fear had been the crinkling plastic. Every time he tried to take a breath, the plastic had sealed itself around his mouth and nose. He still dreamed about it.

“Yeah,” he said. “Well.” And then, still trying to shake off the memory, too late he heard himself say, “Nico’s such a great guy. He’s not a hookup. And that’s why I stopped texting him—”

Horror frosted Allison’s voice. “You ghosted him?”

“I didn’t ghost him. I just stopped texting him. Without any warning. Oh my God, I ghosted him. Okay, in my defense, he ghosted me too. I mean, it’s not like he tried to keep texting me.”

“Because you ghosted him! You can’t mutually ghost each other, Jadon.”

“I didn’t mean to ghost him. I…got busy.”

Allison reared back, studying him like she’d discovered a new kind of bug. “You’re an asshat,” she informed him.

“It’s not like I—”

“No, you are an asshat. And you’re taking him to dinner.”

“He doesn’t want to go to dinner with me.”

“Oh please. Vic was right, you know. He about licked your shirt off you. And he does have a cute butt.”

“Would you keep it down, please?” Jadon glanced around, an automatic check to see if anyone was listening. Then he hesitated. Near the door to the multipurpose room, a man in a security guard’s uniform slouched against the wall. Jadon pegged him at early twenties, maybe even younger, but he had a man’s body, hard and developed and packed into that navy uniform, with an uncompromising line of a mouth. For a moment, their gazes met. The guard pushed off from the wall, his movements casual as he let himself out of the room. But a little too fast. And a little too soon after he’d noticed Jadon watching him.

“What?” Allison asked, craning her head. “Something wrong?”

---