Page 26 of The Lies We Believe

“See you later, Benson.” If he could have spat the words in my face with a glob of mucus, I’m sure Davis would have. He needed to learn a few lessons in civility. His passive aggressiveness did not hide his thinly veiled hate.

“Yup. See ya.” I waved him off, my eyes tracking him as he headed down the road to his car. I was just about to take my eyes off him when he pulled his phone out and started talking to someone, gesticulating wildly while leaning against his car and looking right at me. Or, more accurately, my house. I continuedto watch him out of the corner of my eye as I asked James, “How long have you known Davis?”

“Huh? Oh, he’s f-friends with my uncle. H-he puts a lot of work my way. He’s alway said I’m the best at what I do.”

“Mmmm, I see. Does that mean the force gets a discounted rate for these jobs?” I didn’t know why I asked, but his nervous disposition indicated he was unraveling. Sweat beaded in his hairline, and his expert hands moved with a slight but unmistakable tremor.

“I…ugh, suppose so?”

The guy seemed to get more and more flustered under the weight of my scrutiny. As the seconds ticked past, Davis didn’t move from his car. His cigarette was long gone, but his gaze remained fixated on my home. I just couldn’t work out if it was me he had more issue with, or with whom was staying with me.

As far as I knew, Davis had never been involved in a case like this. He hadn’t done a stake-out since his rookie years, nor accompanied a witness into protective custody. At the station, he pretended to work while keeping his ear to the ground and his finger on the pulse. Making underlings’ lives hell was his favorite sport, and god help you if he found you lacking. He’d tried to bully me when I first joined the force. His racism was apparent from the get-go, but he failed to intimidate on so many levels. He was pathetic and so physically out of shape that I had nothing to fear from him. I just wished it was the same for Montoya. She got it two-fold from him for being Latina and female. He’d say things like “your place is taking care of the children at home” or “you need a good man to take care of you. You won’t be that pretty forever, now will you?”

I’d wanted to punch him in the face that day and had barely restrained my anger from bleeding out and spilling his blood. Montoya was my balance; she made me see reason even as he spewed vitriolic hate at her. I couldn’t wait for the dayhe retired. It was pointless putting in a complaint about him and his tyrannical tirades, because he was well-connected and therefore untouchable. Everything got brushed under the carpet. All you succeeded in doing was making a rod for your own back by becoming persona non grata. I was in no doubt he’d do something one day that even his friends couldn’t protect him from, but until then, I had to act as amenable as possible around him.

“Here,” James said with a cough. “It’s all done. Want me to walk you through it?” He stood up, placing his laptop down, and looked up at me expectantly.

“Yeah, sure. You can tell me about all the upgrades you’ve made and anything you think I might need to watch out for that could be improved.”

James’s smile beamed. “It’s so refreshing to get someone who understands the importance of progress,” he muttered and took my phone from me, opening up the secureX app he’d installed. He walked me through every camera, its range of motion, and the areas they covered. He even suggested a couple of blind spots when it might be pertinent to add extra if I so wanted, but as it was a residential property, that choice was mine and mine alone. His depth of knowledge was amazing and he could be a real asset to our team back at the station.

Once I waved him off, I cast one last glance up and down the street, noting that Davis had also vanished. My heart sank when I realized Bower had recalled the car that should have been watching the house. He’d made a semi compelling argument at my debrief this morning, stating that River’s friends had been spotted around town the past couple of nights. Since there was no imminent threat to him or the case, the new security system and six-foot fence I was going to install in the backyard should be enough.

I hadn’t bought it for a second. It felt like a line the powers from above told him to spin. But without irrefutable evidence that River was in danger—or even a flight risk—I had no leverage to demand a patrol car. Bower had been extremely disappointed that I hadn’t gleaned any new intel from River. Even as I tried to explain the complexity of the situation, which he assured me he was well aware of, he refused to accept that the case wasn’t moving forward.

Bower reminded me I had a job to do and that maybe he’d been wrong in giving me this opportunity to prove myself, stating that my emotional investment in River was causing me to be an ineffective agent. It’d taken every ounce of willpower to not scoff at him and storm out of his office. As a parting gift, he gave me a file containing surveillance images of everyone we knew to be associated with the Black Dahlia ring. He wanted me to get River to verify if he knew them, who they were, and under what capacity they operated within the ring.

I strolled over to my driveway, where my sedan sat baking under the heat of the midday sun. Old Mrs. Burrows waved to me as she pulled into her drive. As she walked up to her porch, she paused long enough to call over another thank you, even though she’d already thanked me profusely for the work I’d done on her car when I returned her keys to her earlier this morning.

I opened the car door and reached into the passenger footwell, retrieving my bag and the file sitting on the seat. After locking up, I hurried back into the house, pleasantly surprised to find River curled up under a pile of blankets on the sofa with It’s Not Cake playing on the TV.

“Would you still like a hot cocoa?” I called out as I dropped my keys in the pot on the accent table and hung my bag up on the peg. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it and headed into the kitchen, flicked the kettle on, and pulled out the marshmallows, milk, and cocoa.

A smile lit up my face when I looked at my messages to see a GIF of a steaming cup of cocoa and a thumbs up emoji. River’s sweet cinnamon and orange scent saturated the kitchen and sent a thrill through me. I felt comfortable and whole in a way I’d never experienced with another person in my space, even Montoya.

I’d had a few relationships in my life but nothing I would ever class as serious or long term. Hookup culture wasn’t for me. No strings sex just wasn’t my thing, nor was sex on a first date. It took time for me to be confident enough to open myself up and be vulnerable with someone. I needed something more, something deeper and meaningful, but every relationship left me feeling like I was missing a piece of myself, something vital that provided a foundation for the relationship to grow. I’d never been able to pinpoint what it was or why I was this way. Joelle had several theories about it, some related to the loss of my family and the impact that had on me. But she believed I could be demisexual, meaning I needed that deeper connection with someone prior to intimacy. But I wasn’t sure. My hand provided me with enough relief. I didn’t feel like I needed more than that, especially with a job like mine.

The kettle boiled, pulling me from my meandering thoughts, ones that had no place being thought of right now. I had a job to do, someone special to guard and look after. My own wants and needs were secondary to River’s. I couldn’t afford to make him uncomfortable; he was too fragile, mentally and physically. I had to look after him while he wasn’t capable.

After making up the drinks, I carried them into the living room. “Here you go,” I murmured, making River blink blearily up at me through heavy-lidded eyes. “Sit up and take this while I grab some snacks.”

A small smile flickered around his mouth, and his full lips formed the words thank you. My heart skipped a beat, and heatflushed my cheeks all the way to the tips of my ears. He shuffled into a sitting position and reached for the cup, wrapping his hands around it and holding it possessively to his chest, gently blowing the steam as the marshmallows melted.

After setting my coffee down, I went back to the kitchen to grab a couple of bowls, filling them with chips and popcorn before placing them in front of River. I settled on the other end of the couch, clutching the file to my chest. All I wanted to do was pull River into my body, to feel how his body would mold into mine, but now wasn’t the time for such thoughts. I had to figure out a way of broaching the subject of the images in my hands.

We settled into a comfortable silence, sipping our drinks while River watched the judges on TV try to figure out which Mona Lisa painting was actually a cake. “Which one do you think it is?” River held up four fingers and fist pumped when the judge confirmed it by sinking his knife into the beautiful artwork. “Good one.”

River glanced up at me. He looked at peace, settled in a way he hadn’t since he’d come to my home. It was like all the stress and anxiety that surrounded him was gone. I could fool myself into thinking he was happier here than he’d been anywhere else, but the more logical answer was that he’d burned it all up earlier and was simply exhausted.

We sat there till the bright blue sky turned into a beautiful watercolor of oranges, pinks, and lavenders. The light streamed in through the sliding doors, filling the room with a natural warmth that nothing manmade could replicate. It made me appreciate the little things. It made me thankful for what I had and the time he granted me in his company.

When the next episode started, I flicked my gaze over to where River sat curled up in his blanket nest and sighed. I didn’t want to ruin the peace we’d found, but this couldn’t wait anylonger. I cleared my throat and sat up straighter. Riv looked up at me through his dark lashes, his thick brows furrowed like he knew the status quo was about to change. Tension lined his jaw, and the tendons in his neck became taught.

“Riv, when I went in for a debrief this morning, Bower asked me to go through some surveillance photos with you.” He sucked in a sharp breath, and pain swirled in his deep green eyes. “We were hoping you could look through them and confirm who people are and what they do. If you know, that is.”

I left the ball in his court as I wouldn’t force him to do it, to revisit the people who had controlled and used him like property. I held my breath, steeling myself as he went through a silent battle I wanted to protect him from. Eventually, after nearly an episode had played, he picked up his phone and started typing.

Ok

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