Page 40 of Black Bird

“So why don’t you do something about it? Come have a drink with me.”

“And get my picture snapped again? Are youtryingto get me fired?” He opened the fridge and rustled up a piece of raw chicken for Poe, slinging it through the breakfast nook and watching the bird dive for it.

“You make a valid point. But I bet I could get you out of it. Your captain likes me.”

“If you want him to continue to like you, then staying outta trouble should be high on your list of priorities.” He dragged on his cigarette and heard her light one on the other end.

“So, I guess that’s a no, then?”

He leaned back against the kitchen counter, glancing over to where he’d pounded Rhaena just yesterday and sighed deeply. “Look, Sarah … I—under different circumstances I would, but … we can’t do that.” She quieted for a second.

“So … you’re saying if I’d been single and came and spoken to you at the club … you would have danced with me?”

His stomach nearly hurt, and a nervous fluttering started ravaging it. “Maybe. It doesn’t matter now. But since we’re on the subject … I heard you asked about me that night after I left.” He was being stupid. He should never have said that shit and he knew it. The smart thing to do would be to find a way to end this conversation and go to bed. But that issue of his self-control where she was involved …

“I most certainly did. The cute bartender tell you that?”

“Cute?” He clenched his teeth and she giggled, some of it muffled by her glass as she drank. “Why ask about me if you were with Stratford?”

Another pause.“I don’t really know how to answer that.”

He did, if Tony was right about the possibility of them being— “You’re not driving, are you?”

“No. I took a cab. So, are the rules different for lady cops?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said Northwood was off. Why can she come hang out, but not you? I could just as easily snuggle up with a chick, couldn’t I? Imagine the headlines on that.”She laughed.

“I—it was a joke.”

“I know what it was … I’ll stop torturing you. I at least got one thing I wanted, anyway.”

Athan shifted. “What’s that?”

They were both quiet for a moment and something in his chest tightened.“Goodnight, detective.”

He looked down at his screen.Call ended.In less than ten minutes she’d successfully shattered his whole perspective on his life. What he wanted from it. Where he thought he was heading with it.

“Fuck …” He mumbled under his breath.

She shouldn’t have called him. She knew that. Sarah stared down at the phone as she laid it flat on the bar, silently praying that maybe it would light up with a text … a call back. But she knew he wouldn’t. She was putting him in a really hard place. The way he looks at her, it was obvious there was something. What that something was, she had no idea. When she’d touched his mouth at her apartment, she could swear he wanted her to. If he were any other guy, he’d find ways around the paparazzi and the rules of the 12th precinct to score one in her bed. But Athan Kane wasn’t any other guy. It was hard to tell exactly what kind of guy he was, really. They use the term “tall, dark and mysterious” to describe men, but this time … that was about as accurate as you could get with this one.

She didn’t want to be alone here, but at the same time … she did. Sarah had been pushing everyone away, and she knew Wren had been right when she said it was out of character for her. The only one she really wanted to be here was someone that wasn’t coming. Even though she knew somehow that he wanted to. If the bartender really did tell him that she’d asked about him that night, then he must have been thinking about her enough to talk to him about it. Unless of course … he was there just doing his job. Yeah, that was it. She’s delusional. Although when she’d mentioned the bartender being cute, he seemed awfully jealous. Sarah smiled to herself.

“You look lonely. Can I buy you a drink?” Some half-obliterated, greaser offered from beside her. Sarah flinched at the intrusive invitation and leaned back at the strong smell of alcohol on his breath.

“Why don’t you save the money and go buy yourself some mouthwash.” Sarah shot back, holding up a palm and gesturing for him to back up a step.

“Why don’t you come with me, and we can get a box of trash bags while we’re at it?” He grinned drunkenly, bracing one hand on the bar top, and the other on the back of her stool.

“The big black ones for yard trash? I think I could fit your body into that.”

He laughed obnoxiously and leaned toward her. Sarah couldn’t move any farther back. “I like your style, but I was talking about protection.” He winked.

“Yeah … so was I.” Sarah smiled, winking back.

“There’s a bathroom back that way.” His eyes went straight to her tits.

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