Page 86 of Cutter

“But, Emily, I thought you knew.” Yoanni narrowed her eyes. “By now, he’s left town. That’s why he’s not picking up.”

“What do you mean left town?” Emily shouted. The switchboard officer and two coworkers stopped their conversation to listen in.

This time around, her girlfriend didn’t accept her outburst. Yoanni glared. “Don’t yell at me, Emily Mayhew. I’m sick of your nonsense. I allowed it once, but no more. I’m your friend, not a punching bag.”

“Geez. I’m sorry, Yoanni.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Please forgive me. That was so rude. I…I haven’t slept, and I don’t understand. He left? Why?” She tried to grab Yoanni’s wrist in apology. Her friend remained stiff. She wasn’t convinced.

“Detective Mayhew, I won’t allow you to abuse my assistant.”

At Captain Weaver’s abrupt tone, Emily turned. She almost splattered the coffee in his hand.

“Um, I’m sorry. I apologized to Yoanni. Can someone explain?”

“What did you expect would happen?” Moving the coffee away from her to avoid spills, Weaver cocked an eyebrow. “Knowing he has men tailing him, you show up at his house, announcing to the world that he’s been working with us. I know what you had in mind, and that was pretty underhanded, Mayhew. Plus, you put a target on his back and yours too. He took you to the bust to make sure you’d be all right. He told me he was moving away.”

“When was this?” she almost shrieked.

“I stopped him as he was leaving the warehouse. I offered to have his wound taken care of, but he shrugged it off. Said it was nothing. I guess he’s on the road already.”

“No.” She shook her head. There was still something she could do. He couldn’t leave her. She wanted her Daddy. Needed him. “No. No. No.”Maybe if I hurry… She dashed down the hallway to the exit.

“Emily, wait! You’re not in your right mind,” Captain Weaver shouted, but she ignored him. She was thinking clearly enough to know she’d better hurry. Find him. Stop him before he left her all alone and adrift.

Life without Cutter, miserable and lonely, flashed before her eyes. There would be no happiness and fulfillment. Satisfaction, real satisfaction, the kind that lingered in daily life, would forever be gone from her. And everything that had seemed so important to her—the success of the investigation—her name announced in bright lights, the admiration of colleagues and jealousy of her rival detectives—faded and diminished to nothingness. Sure, all that sounded exciting, but when night fell and she lay in her empty bed, the point of it all ceased to matter.

Here was her truth: Cutter was the mate of her soul. Her destined partner. The man who made her soul sing and her heart dance. And she’d lied and tried to trick him. No relationship could survive that.

Emily jumped into her Rover and flew out of the station a mindless wild woman, heedless of the danger to herself and others. As she sped down Dean Forest Road to turn onto Route 80, a sudden hit against her rear bumper momentarily disoriented her. Emily looked in the rearview mirror and braced for impact, gripping the wheel as tightly as possible. The accelerating truck slammed into her vehicle full force. This time, the Rover swerved with a screech of tires and metal. Fear invaded her heart. The truck advanced on her side, struck once, and struck again. They were pushing her off the road. Screaming, she swerved back. The side of her vehicle grated against the attacking truck. Emily laughed, accelerating. She was going to escape the assault. But a second truck rammed her rear at an angle, and her Rover spun, then tipped and rolled. Covering her face with her arms, she sent out a last thought.

I’m sorry, Daddy.

Chapter Seventeen

Emily woke up to faint rhythmic beeps in a sea of confusion. It took her mind a moment to register that the sounds came from some kind of monitor off to her side. She tried opening her eyes to figure out her situation, but the effort produced such a paralyzing headache, she gave up and closed them immediately. Once the pounding at the temples lessened, she tried again. Keeping her eyelids lowered to slits allowed her to see without triggering that nasty hammer back to life.

Wrapped around her left arm, a blood pressure cuff and some sort of pad were connected to a monitor. Why? She went into her memory, but her brain gave nothing, only a gray emptiness and more confusion. Moving on, she looked down to her feet and a little farther…

Sitting several feet away from the foot of her bed, Cutter, his elbows on his knees, stared at the floor. Her heart skipped a beat, then sped up. So did the monitor, betraying her reaction.

He jerked, glanced up at her, and jumped to his feet. Her stomach plummeted. She didn’t like his expression one bit.

As Emily opened her lips to speak, he interrupted her. “No, don’t exert yourself yet. Wait a moment.”

Sure, she could wait. Except he seemed so angry.

That was when her brain decided to fire up, and a deadly fear gripped her soul. Memories returned in a rush, thoughts of Cutter leaving, the truck chasing her, a violent attack, her truck rolling and rolling, her last goodbye, then nothing.

He clasped her hand between his. “You have a concussion, but you’re going to be okay. You have no fractures or internal injuries. That Rover is one tough customer. It’s wrecked, but you’re safe.” He smiled, and her eyes filled with tears. Emotions rattled her. She was so happy to see him, so moved and grateful that he’d come to her when she needed him.

“Oh, kitten, don’t cry.” With the gentlest touch, he wiped a tear away with his fingertip. “There’s nothing to be upset about.”

She had to speak, tell him what was in her heart. He’d silenced her at the bust. Not now.

“But there is, there is.”

“Not yet. It can wait. You need to rest and relax.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Was there hope for her, for them, in his gesture of affection, or did she read too much into it? Would he give her another chance? A fresh wave of regret and shame overwhelmed her. She’d come so close to losing this beautiful and loving man, her Daddy, the love of her life, and for what?

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