Page 12 of Irreversible

“Dammit, Porter, that was for your own good. You’d lost it.” His hand tightens around his glass. “I’mtryingto be your friend now. Why do you think I’m here?”

“Maybe you feel guilty. How the hell should I know?”

“Or, maybe I have a sense of loyalty that borders on masochism.” Now it’s his turn to glare. “No matter what you might think, I’m looking out for your interests. And I know it’s not the same, but what happened…it hit me hard, too. You know I loved her like a?—”

“You told me to sit down and shut up.” I point the cigarette at him like an accusation. “Trust the department. But they failed me when I needed them and tossed me to the curb when I got pissed.”

He gives me a look like I’m full of shit. “No, I said that more people would be willing to listen to your theories if you played nice. Most people don’t exactly jump at the chance to deal with your hot-tempered ass.”

“Well, things have changed now, haven’t they?” I flatten my hands on the table and lean in. “I’m a free agent. And maybe it’s about time I started using that freedom to my advantage.”

“Careful.” His voice lowers. “You’re walking a dangerous edge once those lines blur.” Unlike most people, he holds eye contact. He’s always been one of the rare people who doesn’t falter when I get riled up. Even the chief used to back down and let me do my thing; however unorthodox my methods might be, I got the job done. Then several months ago, I let my temper flare a little too publicly and it couldn’t be overlooked.

Turns out, showing up at a congressman’s party with all his politician friends present and demanding they get their heads out of their asses, acknowledge the unsolved disappearances of their citizens as an epidemic, and put their money where theirthoughts and prayerswere gets you labeled a loose cannon.

There also might have been a few tables flipped in the process, and a small fire…

Tanner watches me warily. “Employed or not, it’s still your responsibility to respect the law. You got lucky last time, but I wouldn’t count on it happening again.”

We were both surprised no charges were pressed, but the potential media circus was what ultimately saved me. There’d been too many missing persons cases in the past couple of years—seemingly random situations, with vastly different victims. If it got out that an L.A.P.D. detective believed they were all connected and had been shoved aside because he was related to one of them,the citizens would demand answers.

So, under the guise of understanding my grief, I was given options. I could stay on the force, submit to an investigation and probably get canned…or door number two, the one I took: mental health leave, followed by early retirement.

My preference would have been shoving their “options” straight up their asses. It was Tanner who convinced me I could still do some good in the private sector if I stayed out of jail.

But…

Exhaling a stream of smoke, I thank the nicotine for steadying my nerves and giving me some clarity. Just because I don’t work for the law now, doesn’t mean I’ve left my skills behind. I happen to have been the best undercover agent the department had seen in over a decade, goddammit. That hasn’t changed.

“What are you thinking?” Tanner knows me well enough to see a plan forming in my head.

Suddenly, I’m calm. Resolved.

“You should go home.” I nod toward the door. “Dana hates when you stay out all night.”

“I’m sure she’s asleep.” The skin around his eyes tightens the slightest bit. He looks at the cigarette like it’s suddenly turned sour and jabs it into the ashtray. “And you’re changing the subject.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

There’s a strange dynamic between us now—one that’s entirely my fault. Trying to be my friend is a no-win situation, and it’s to his credit that he held out as long as he has.

In the end, I was too angry. I couldn’t stomach the give and take being around other humans requires and cut everyone off.

Everyone, meaninghim,since there’s only been one other person interested in putting up with my bullshit, and she’s?—

Never mind.

Tanner looks tired, and not just because it’s the middle of the night. I know the guy better than anyone, and I’m finally calm enough to notice the little things. The growth of much more than a five o’clock shadow on his normally clean-shaven jaw. The tie balled up in his jacket pocket, like he hasn’t been home yet. The cigarette pack, slightly caved, half empty, and the slight tremble of his fingers when he lit the end.

He’d quit smoking cold turkey the night before he got married. I was there, at the rehearsal—much to the bride-to-be’s chagrin—coerced by Tanner into being his best man. We had one last smoke together out behind the church’s maintenance shed while the wedding planner called for the groom to take his place. Then he was done. After that, he only kept a pack around to calm me down whenever I got…agitated.

He’d bought a new pack the day before I told him to fuck off and never talk to me again.

“You’re planning something.” Suspicion etches in the two lines between his eyebrows.

“I still don’t believe it was Sommerfield.” I lift one shoulder. “I never will.”

“I know you won’t.”

---