Page 4 of Sinful Deception

He snorts. “I told her it’s done. If she wants to clean up, great. I texted her the name of the clinic and told her to call andbook herself in. If she needs somewhere to sleep, I texted her the name of a shelter nearby. She needs medical help? I texted her the address of the hospital.” He stands tall again and sets his hands on his hips. “She knows all this stuff, obviously, but this is me making the effort, without sacrificing me and Mia.” He exhales a sad sigh. “I feel like a piece of shit, Arch. No matter which choice I make, I feel like the asshole.”

“You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. That doesn’t make you an asshole.”

“I help her, and everyone thinks I’m stupid. I don’t help her, and I feel like I’ve abandoned her.”

“She abandoned herself. But she’s got the tools to land on her feet again. You’re doing the right thing.”

“Yeah?” He shakes his head. “Keep reminding me of that because right now, she’s blowing up my phone and filling my voicemail with the sound of her tears. Imagine that was Minka,” he groans. “Imagine she’s begging for your help, and all you do is stand by and say…nope. Too bad, so sad.”

My stomach aches at the thought. My heart bleeds, and my brain rejects the notion. But Minka isn’t Jada, and Jada’s been saved already. Too many times to count. And not once did she use the opportunity to keep her head above water.

There are only so many times a man can save a drowning woman before she pulls him under, too.

“I’ll keep reminding you,” I promise. “Every hour. Every phone call. Every time she forces you to carry the weight of her tears. You’ve gotta save you and Mia now. Jada can do this on her own, and you’re no longer her simp, begging to be abused.”

He scoffs.

“I’m proud of you for saying no.” I nod when his eyes come up to mine. “You’re doing the right thing.”

“Yeah.” He sniffs. One fast intake of air before he brushes his fingers beneath his nose and reaches out for his file again.“Anyway. Work. I don’t wanna think about what she’s doing right now.”

“So let’s talk about Fifi instead?”

I jump out of the way when he picks up a pen and pings it across the room, ninja star lethal, until it hits the window and threatens to pass straight through. But I laugh, circling the table the long way so we’re never closer than a few feet. “I thought you wanted me to take your mind off of Jada?”

“And put it on Sera? You’re the worst best friend a man ever had.”

“But now you’re less sad.” I reach into the box and search for a new file. But my phone rings, and right after it, Fletch’s does, too. “Well, hell,” I drawl. “Sounds like someone died.” Clearing my throat and pulling the device from my pocket, I answer and bring it to my ear. “Detective Malone.”

“Dispatch, suspected homicide on the corner of Durban and Fourth.”

“Yep.” I bring my free hand up and scratch my fingers through my hair. “I’m on my way. Detective Fletcher is right here with me, so we’re both attending. Stand by. We’ll request medical examiners once we’re on the scene.”

“Affirmative.”

I look at Fletch and lower my hand. Then I smirk and start toward the door. “Guess we have something else to focus on now. No more Jada and no more?—”

“Swear to God, if you say Sera’s name one more time…” He stalks out of the war room just a single step behind me, only to skid to a stop a mere few inches before he runs the trim Seraphina Lewis straight over. He chokes on something—his soul, I assume—and stumbles back a step when her glacial eyes look us up and down. “Sera? Uh…”

Brutally aware of the fact we’re in a homicide bullpen—and she’s in it now, too—Fletch swings his head around in search ofour newest threat. “What’s wrong?” He snatches her hand and yanks her off balance, dragging her to stand between his back and the wall. But it’s for naught because there is no threat… except for the mayor, who wanders just twenty feet away. “What the?—”

“Please don’t touch me.” I glance back just in time to catch Fifi flicking his hand off. She stands tall and stiffly fixes her jacket until the creases are perfect and the lapels are symmetrical. “Nothing is wrong.”

“This is where people come to confess to murder, Sera!” He turns his back to me and holds her to the wall with a look. “Or for help. So which is it?”

He won’t help Jada anymore, despite her begging for it. But will force himself on a woman who would rather chew her own arm off than admit to having feelings for the dipshit detective.

“I’m here for work.” Cold, she broadens her chest and shifts so her hair falls to her shoulder blades. “My boss is in the room right this moment, and I’m supposed to be by his side. I was stepping this way to get a better view of the bullpen, and I didn’t see you here, so I figured doing so would be safe.”

“You looked for me?”

She narrows her eyes. “I scanned for you in hopes of avoiding this very interaction. It seems my mistake was in not checking every room before jumping to a conclusion.”

“Why’s he here?” He looks across to the mayor again. The middle-aged, sharply-suitedDaddy Mayor, as Aubree so gleefully dubs him. Then back to Fifi again. “Is something happening we should know about?”

“Yeah, it’s calledmeeting the men and women who work for the city. It’s probably best that I don’t tell my new employer of all the hours I’ve witnessed the both of you waste inside the George Stanley.”

“It’s not wastage,” I smirk, if only to bring tensions down a little from their current state of ‘we’re about to fuck this place up’. “At least half of my time there is work. The other half is spent staring at my bride.”

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