Page 44 of The Broken Places

He covered the little boy with the warm blanket, and the child’s eyes fluttered open. He stared at Jett, who held the toast to his mouth and coaxed him to eat.

Tell me what he suffers,his dove said.Tell me what he feels.

So Jett told his guide about the frost and the hurt and the loneliness and the hunger. He told her about the door that clattered open to show the staggering man outlined by the moon. He felt hot wax dripping down his cheeks, because he was melting into the earth, dissolving like the candle his grandmother burned in the window of the house where he wasn’t allowed. And yet he wasn’t dissolving, because he felt the child who was him in his arms and the whisper-soft feathers of his dove just under his chin.Back, forth, back, forth.He smelled the cold and the pine and the dirt and the grease, but he also smelled the toasted bread slathered with creamy butter, and he tasted it on his tongue as he fed it to the child in his arms.

You’re protecting him now, do you see that? Do you see how he looks at you? His rescuer. How do you feel about the child in your arms?

Jett looked down at the little boy. He saw the dirty tear tracks on his small face. He knew his pain and his fear. He felt the places in his body where he hurt, even the shameful ones. He knew his hopes, the ones he kept so small because thinking about them caused an agony deeper than his physical aches to rise up inside him so suddenly that he felt strangled by the pain. He knew nothing else to do but to rock the boy. And so he did.Back, forth, back, forth.

What else does he need, other than the blanket and the food?his guide asked.

Crystal tears shimmered on the boy’s dark lashes, and Jett felt a light begin to glow in his heart that was both his and the boy’s. It shocked him. He’d never felt it before, but now he did, and there was no question of what it was.Love.It came alive. It melded and mixed, a shimmering rainbow, the colors bright and sparkling, creating yet other colors that blossomed and burst and beat.Thud, thud, thud.The growing mix of twinkling colors pulsated in the air around him, enveloping him in the warmth, and he felt it, on his skin and in his soul.Love. He needs love.

Well, good, because you’re loving him.He heard the smile in his guide’s voice that wasn’t a voice.Hold him closer. Hold him tight.

And Jett did, until there was only one of them sitting in that cold, dim shed.

Is there any reason to stay here?

His arms lowered. It was only him there, and a ray of sun had found its way through the single grimy window. Jett turned his face toward it and felt its warmth. The space brightened so intensely that Jett had to close his eyes from the glare.

No, there’s nothing here now. I’m ready to go.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Lennon turned onto Geary and walked with what she hoped looked like purpose toward the few girls who strolled the block waiting for a john to make an offer. It’d been three days since she’d found out thatAmbrose Mars, or whatever his name was, was a lying fraud who belonged in prison, and had her gun and badge taken by Internal as they began their investigation. At first, she’d holed up in her apartment in stunned silence, trying to make sense of what had happened. Then she’d gotten angry and broken a few dishes on her tile floor. But when that had failed to satisfy, she’d decided the only way she’d find peace, or justice, was if she went looking for it herself.

She’d been duped and deceived, and at this point, she had to assume that even the intimate moments they’d spent together had been part of some greater plan to infiltrate the department, or steal evidence, or whatever he’d ultimately been there to do. And it enraged her, but it also ate at her pride, and if she was going to be honest with herself, she had to admit that it hurt her too.

Ambrose was the first man she’d really connected to since Tanner. And though she felt stupid for being conned, she also felt guilty because in some sense, it felt like she’d betrayed Tanner by giving even a small portion of her heart—the heart she’d promised tohim—to a lying criminal.

I’m just ... not great in relationships.What was that? A way to give her an out before he used her? An out she hadn’t taken?

What was his point, though? Why had he taken a risk like that? If he was apprehended, he’d serve prison time.

God, she felt stupid. Stupid and gullible and pathetic. And she was driving herself crazy with questions that had no answers.Andshe suddenly had all this time on her hands. She could sit around and stew and beat herself up over the situation. Or she could do something about it.

She didn’t currently have police powers, and so she’d have to be creative—and smart—but decided that a personal investigation wasn’t going to hurt anyone. And if Mars had impersonated an agent to find out more about the “BB” pill case, then maybe he knew something she didn’t. Maybe this was bigger to someone than even the police understood. She was certain other inspectors had taken on the case since she’d been removed and sent home, but that meant the whole investigation was behind, as they’d have to read through the case, reexamine evidence, interview people who’d already been interviewed and try to get up to speed. All while juggling the cases they were already in the middle of.

But she’d collected some leads before getting attacked in that tent, and dammit, she was going to throw caution to the wind and follow them. The people she intended to interview didn’t want anything to do with the police, a double-edged sword that meant they might not talk to her. But they were also very unlikely to report her, should they be suspicious. Maybe the leads wouldn’t go anywhere. Or maybe once she was reinstated, she’d already have a leg up. Either way, it seemed worth it to try. And who knew, maybe she’d run into the criminal known as Ambrose Mars, because if he’d been interested enough in the “BB” pill case to infiltrate the police department, he likely still was. Which meant that he, too, would be searching for more answers toward whatever end he had in mind.

As soon as the sun had begun its descent, she’d headed to the TL, hoping it was late enough that there’d be at least a little traffic but early enough that the women would have a few minutes to speak with her.

That was, if they were willing at all.

First, though, she’d stopped in at the bar called the Cellar that Darius Finchem had mentioned, a dank underground establishment that would likely fail a firesafety inspection. It was creepy, but she’d gone early enough in the evening that there was still light spilling in through the entrance, and there were barely any customers.

Because you’re chickenshit.And fine, she didn’t really want to be there when the party, such as it was, was in full swing, though she would come back if she struck out on Geary. And, no surprise, the lone bartender hadn’t given her any information about supposed women who worked the back rooms. In fact, he’d outright denied knowing anything about that at all. So here she was on Geary now, hoping for a bigger break than she’d achieved at the Cellar.

There was a woman wearing a skimpy black dress, eating an apple and mumbling to herself on a bench, and though she was dressed like a prostitute, Lennon decided she’d leave her to her mumbling. Instead, she approached a woman in a pair of tight red shorts who leaned back against a light pole, smoking a cigarette. But when she attempted to speak with her, the woman raised her hand, showing Lennon her long spiked fingernails, and said, “Take off, pig. I’m not doin’ nothin’ your boyfriend isn’t happy to pay me for.” Well, at least Lennon wouldn’t have to flash an empty badge holder and hope no one noticed. People living here clocked her in a moment. Fine. That made things easier, in light of her current circumstances.

“I just have a few questions,” Lennon called after her.

But the woman raised her hand and shot her the bird, and then yelled, “Fuck you!” in case Lennon hadn’t taken the gesture to heart.

She sighed. Tommy had always had better luck getting information from the working girls. They’d proposition him first, but when he politely declined in that charming way of his, they still seemed sort of eager to please him anyway, in whatever way they could. Her? Not so much. “What the fuck are you lookin’ at?” asked another girl Lennonhad started to approach. Lennon gave her a thin smile and turned the other way.

After a few more unsuccessful attempts, she decided that this was getting her nowhere and turned to leave. Wallowing in her misery at home wasn’t very empowering, but at least she knew how to be successful at that. “You lookin’ for information?” a woman wearing a pink tutu and silver thigh-high boots asked.

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