Page 20 of Sinful Reality

‘Ordering Thai,’ she sent twenty minutes ago. ‘Love you. See you when you get here. I’m starving, so don’t walk too slow. If you do, I promise to leave you some. Maybe. Walk fast! It’s infusion night, and I want to snuggle on the couch. The longer you take, the less time we have for that.’

Fuck yes.

The anxiety I’ve held in my gut all day dissipates. The worry I’ve had for the woman who gives her heart and soulalways, but especially for the case currently plaguing New York, lessens. Because I thought she would become consumed by this. I was certain she would make herself sick with stress. I honestly feared her distraction last night was a hint ofwhat our life could have been, if only we didn’t demand better of each other.

But she made a promise, and she’s clearly making an effort. So, with a smile and a stride that eats up the concrete, I type out a fast reply:on my way. Then, I walk blindly and check the rest of my communications.

An email from Warden Conroy assuring me that Tarran McDermott is already free of the SHU and happily living amongst his friends in Gen Pop, and his visits with his daughter and granddaughter, already reinstated.

Good.

Then my texts: Felix, checking in. Micah, aware of the current New York case and stating his concern for Minka.He’s too fucking smart for his own good. Cato, letting me know he’d be in class till four-thirty and then home right after. Though he sent that one a while ago.

Then I catch a text from Aubree that has my brows pinching in confusion and my steps faltering:I’m worried about Minka. Keep her accountable to where she is right now. Bring her back to today, to Copeland City, and to this life she lives. If you don’t, she’ll lose a part of her to the past.

“What the fuck?” I immediately dial her number. Screw the text back-and-forth bullshit and the risk of miscommunication. I bring the phone to my ear and wait just one breath before the line connects. “What are you talking about, Emeri?”

She sighs. Her low mood, more than enough to fling that anxiety straight back into my belly. “I’m worried.”

“Yeah! I caught that already.” I step around a slow-walking couple and pin my eyes to the neon sign out front of Tim’s as I cross a city block. “What do you mean,keep her accountable?”

“I mean, she suffered trauma when she was a child. Seeing the Diane stuff on the news, being a kid home alone a lot, having parents who lectured her every damn day about the dangers of walking home alone, but not having any other option. She was thrust into hyper-alertness from kindergarten on and keeping herself safe even when, statistically, little girls her age rarely lived to tell the tale. Everyone was doing their best, talking to their daughters about stranger danger, but their best also came with a thick sheen of PTSD, and that PTSD compounded when she grew up to become an autopsy tech. Theuniverse was cruel when she caught her very own Body-In-The-Bag case.”

“Aubree—”

“Now he’s back, and I’m concerned she’ll revert to the person she used to be. The one shehadto be to survive. Hyper-independent, dissociative, unbending, and ultimately, incapable of genuine emotion.”

“But she’s not.” I cling to the texts she sent this afternoon. The ‘we’re having Thai,’ and ‘hurry home. I want to snuggle.’ “We talked about it this morning, and she’s remained in contact this afternoon.” I don’t run home. I’m not at that point of panic yet, but I sure as fuck quicken my steps. “She ordered takeout, Aubs, and we’re gonna watch TV and chill the fuck out.”

“She’s working the Sawyer case. Not officially,” she clarifies. “But she’s poring over the files and ignoring all other responsibilities.”

“Yeah, I know. But then again, so am I.” I move my phone from one hand to the other, so I can dig the first into my pocket to stop it from freezing and falling off. “She’s gonna involve herself in the case, Aubs. We can’t stop that. But I’ve been working on my own theories, too. And I’m calling her out and making sure she’s present with me. She’ll be distracted,” I concede. “Anyone who knows her knows she’ll be thinking about Diane and the others. But they’ve been on her mind since we met her. She’s capable of compartmentalizing and getting on with things.”

“She texted about dinner?” Finally, her certainty crumbles away to doubt. The dread she breathes into our conversation dials back to a milder concern. “And TV?”

“And infusion. And snuggling. She said I had to hurry home because she’s starving, and she was gonna start eating with or without me.”

“She skipped lunch.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle. “Figured she would. She’s gonna eat till she complains she ate too much, and by then, she’ll be too exhausted to do anything except medicate and stare at the TV. And listen,” I move around a crowd of people near the hospital front doors, crossing the driveway and stepping up on the other side to continue my trek home. “Fletch and I caught a break in a cold case today, which means tomorrow we’re going out to search for a body. We’ll need one of your kind out there to help. You available?”

“I mean…” She exhales a breath of relief, I think. Humor. “Technically, yeah. The chief’s complete inability to focus today meant I delegated every DB out to someone else on the team. Which means she and I have no actives of our own. I’m not even sure she noticed.”

“Trauma creates a reaction in people,” I explain, if only to myself. “When that trauma is revisited, or worse, tossed in our face, it’s completely normal to respond physically and mentally. She hardly ate today, barely slept last night, and couldn’t focus at work. That’s all pretty standard for day one. But she’s ready to eat now, and her meds willmakeher sleep. The worst is past.”

“I wish I could be as certain as you.” She yanks a fridge open, the releasing seal echoing through the line, then grabs something from inside that starts the cat into a frenzy of meowing.Dinner time. “Keep me in the loop, please? My stomach hurts every time I think about her, and historically, that means nothing good is coming. But you’re right, too, in that this is normal for re-exposure to trauma. This is the first time she’s revisited thiswhilemarried to you. That’s a break in the cycle, right? It’s a good thing.”

“I’m not gonna drop her.” I hunch against the icy blast of wind tearing along our street. “She mightwantto regress into shitty behaviors, and she might even get away with some of them, but I’m not gonna let her be who she was before. Back then, she was single and alone. She had no one calling her out daily and forcing her back to reality. Now she has us, and there’s no chance in hell I’m letting her down when she needs me the most.”

“Alright. Fine,” she breathes, shuffling the phone and scraping food into a plastic bowl. “I told you my bit. You told me yours. Chances are, she’ll end up somewhere in the middle. I’ll be at Tim’s all night, so if you need me or whatever…”

My fast pace turns to a damn speed walk, but I smile and blow past the bar and yank our apartment building door open, stepping into the cold, but at least the brick walls save me from the wind. Steve isn’t on guard duty today, so I don’t have to slow to toss out a hurried hello.

“I’m heading up the stairs now. I have a dinner and movie date with my wife, so if you don’t hear from me, you know all is well.”

“I sincerely hope you don’t call me, then.” She opens the fridge again to put the cat food away. “Talk to you later, okay?”

“Yep. And don’t forget the team I need for tomorrow. Delegate your troops out, but save yourself and Mayet for mine. You’ll be playing in the dirt, so don’t wear your best shoes.”

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