Page 29 of No Sweet Goodbyes

We are all just a mess of damaged men who don’t want to break the women we love.

Speaking of which, right on cue Emma walks through the door and into the bullpen with a bright greeting to whoever’s around. Her voice makes me flinch, a move that Linc watches with an eagle eye.

“Say the word, and I’ll fake a heart attack,” he says conspiratorially. “That’ll send her into a panic and she’ll go with me to get checked out. Buy you some time so that you can get away.” He checks over his shoulder to make sure no one’s around, spying on our conversation. “When are you going?”

I tap my pen on the table, studiously ignoring my cell phone or the pile of papers that desperately need to be attended to before I leave. “A little over a week. I’ll be there for three months, at least.” I don’t need to go into details, and I can’t even if I wanted to.

“Tonight. Beer. It has to be your place. You’re going to have to start the bonfire, though. ’Cause I promised Kennedy I wouldn’t destroy her flower garden and we haven’t put in a fire pit yet.”

I nod.

“Ritual’s a ritual for a reason.”

He nods sharply and knocks on my doorframe twice before walking away.

“Tonight.”

Emma passes her brother and blows a raspberry at him before stepping into my office like she belongs there. “Do we need to talk about last night?”

“No.” I watch for any sign that I’ve said the wrong thing, but she’s mastered the emotionless mask that most cops have after a decade on the job. The one I use whenever she’s around, because letting her see the truth would destroy us both. When she doesn’t answer me, I nod toward the chair across from me, the same one she has sat in when I’ve talked about my cases, about what it means to be an officer, for the last five days. “Today’s all about paperwork.” The pile of folders on my desk doesn’t need to be explained. “No offense, but it’s going to go quicker if I can wrap it up on my own. The new detective starts today, too, so if you can work in dispatch with Poppy, that would be great.”

Am I running away from her? Yes, I am.

But do I have a damn good excuse? Yes, I definitely do.

And technically, she’s the one leaving. I’m staying in my office.

Emma stares at me for a second, her expression never wavering. Then, without a word or argument, she gets up and walks out.

Where I should have been able to breathe just a little bit easier, I can’t. And that revelation only makes it harder to focus on the job at hand.

Less than five minutes later, there’s a sharp knock on the wall next to my door and I look up to see Logan Pierce standing there with a grin on his face.

“Hey, man.” I get up and shake his hand. “Thanks for starting earlier than you wanted to.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “I’ve been trying to convince Alex to bring me on for a year, Dom. Trust me, you’re making my life easier.”

When he smiles, I get the distinct impression that he’s a maniac, but I know for a fact that he’s also a great cop.

“You’re still following Poppy around like a puppy dog?” Everyone, and I mean everyone, who knows Poppy and Logan knows about their history.

“More like a rabid wolf,” Logan admits. “Can’t win with her, and I also can’t walk away… But I think you know what I mean.”

He takes a seat, and we get to work running through my active cases. By the time we’re done at lunchtime, my eyes are starting to cross from the tiny print on white paper.

“I hate paperwork.” Logan falls into step beside me as we walk out of the building. “It’s the only reason I don’t want to be the boss. Too much paperwork.”

I snort and then stop in my tracks.

Emma stands there, out of uniform, with a bottle of water in her hand and Stryker’s arm around her waist.

“Don’t do it.” Logan grabs me by the arm, but I shake him off.

Yeah, I’m a big guy, and seeing him touching her makes me see red. I want to kill him by ripping his arm off and beating him over the head with it, but I’m not about to start a brawl in the middle of the parking lot. Besides that, I can see the look on Emma’s face. The same pained look she had on her face the night Bee’s parents died.

“Emma.” I bark her name in time to see her look up with tears in her eyes, and she steps away from Stryker, only to collapse onto the parking lot pavement.

In my entire life, I’ve never moved as fast as I do to get to her side. My heart is racing, and I know I’m holding my breath because my lungs start to burn after a long second.

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