Page 13 of Spark
“Peachy.”Apropos of exactly nothing, she asked, “Did these come from the vending machine?”
“Yeah,” he said slowly, his brain catching up to the conversation on a solid three-second delay.“But if you’re still hungry, we can just go to breakfast like we planned.”As crazy as this morning had been, they did still need to divide up a bunch of to-dos for Ryan and Addison’s wedding.
“They’re not for me,” Chloe said, swiveling her gaze over the second-floor hallway until she spotted the vending machines at the opposite end.She walked toward them with purpose, scanning the options before pulling her phone out of her back pocket to tap her digital wallet to life.
Tyler should have said nothing.Hell, heshouldhave let her go about her business on her own, in the first place, without sticking around.So, he really, really wanted to kick himself square in the nuts when he said, “Are they for Esme?”
Chloe froze, her hand hovering over the buttons on the vending machine.“How do you know about Esme?”
“Xander and Capelli were working on the case while I waited for you.Xander didn’t tell me much, only that it’s pretty brutal, but I picked up enough details to get the gist of what’s going on.”
As a squad firefighter, Tyler had been involved in plenty of incidents that resulted in loss of life or massive property damage, so he was used to working with various law enforcement agencies.Statistically speaking, very few of those cases had ended up involving foul play.But between the string of God’s-honest arsons they’d responded to earlier that year, the handful of times they’d put out fires set by criminals to destroy evidence, and the one bomb threat a few years ago that hadn’t been an empty threat, he understood how sensitive case details were.Which Xander and Capelliknewhe knew, since most of Tyler’s assists had been on Intelligence cases.Otherwise, his ass would’ve probably been stuck waiting for Chloe in the lobby.
A flicker of something—worry?Fear?Moved over Chloe’s face and landed directly in Tyler’s chest before it disappeared.“Yep.Brutal is a good word for it.”
Chloe tapped in the code for the cinnamon rolls, then repeated the process for a second package plus a bottle of water.Popping the last of her own breakfast into her mouth, she tucked her juice under her arm to liberate the new items from the machine.She didn’t elaborate on the case, though—or her role in it—so Tyler didn’t have much of a choice but to fall into step with her as she headed back to the Intelligence office, handed the water and pastries over to Addison, then turned back for the exit.
“Sorry you lost your morning waiting around for me.I’ve got to pass on breakfast, but like I said, I’ll make it up to you with the party planning.”
“You don’t need to do that,” he said, but she waved him off, “I insist”-style.
“It’s no big deal.”She added just enough of a polite smile to sell it.Well, to anyone who didn’t know her like the back of their hand, a.k.a., him.“Are you headed back toward Seventeen?If not, I can totally call a ride-share.”
“No.I mean, yes.”Fuck, why did everything about her put his composure in a blender?“Yes, I can take you back to your car.No, you don’t need to call a ride-share.”
“Great.Did you park in the visitor’s lot or on the street?”
“In the visitor’s lot.”
Tyler matched her strides toward the lobby, through the precinct, then past the doors and into the midday sunshine.Fine, so he could let breakfast go.Chloe was an adult.He didn’t have to make sure she ate a full meal, even though those cinnamon rolls had been one step up from microscopic and she still hadn’t touched her juice.That look on her face, though?The one she thought she’d hidden when he’d asked about Esme?
That,he couldn’t ignore.No matter how much he needed to keep her at arm’s length.
He waited until they were most of the way to his Mustang before trying again.“It’s been a crazy morning.Do you want to talk about this case?”
The surprise on Chloe’s face tracked, given their recent avoidance of each other and Tyler’s general disposition.He was, by necessity, not a capital-F-Feelings kind of guy.But he and Chloe had been friends—goodones, the kind who snuck food off each other’s plates and made goofy faces behind Ryan’s back to try to get the other to crack up laughing—before he’d gone and fucked everything up by kissing her.Anyway, talking about her feelings was a whole different stratosphere than talking about his own, and it was better than the thousand-pound silence of their ride out here.
Apparently, she preferred the silence.“There’s not much to talk about, really.You said you already know the deal.Esme’s a foster teen.She witnessed a murder.Intelligence needed help and Esme needs an advocate.So, here I am.”
Tyler popped the locks on the Mustang and took a long, deep breath.In the dozen years he’d known her, she’d nevernotwanted to talk about it if something was on her mind.After this morning, she had to be contending with no less than six hundred fifty-two thoughts and emotions, most of which she was currently wearing on her face.“If being back at Intelligence dredged up bad memories, it might?—”
“It’s not that,” Chloe said, quickly enough to shut him up.
He used the handful of seconds it took them to get situated in the front seat to cement his calm into place.“Okay.So, what is it, then?”
“This case is just…a lot, that’s all.”
A beat of silence expanded between them, stretching further and further in every direction.When it became five, Tyler put the car into gear and pulled into traffic, just to give himself something to do.When it became ten, he was sure Chloe would stay clammed up and he’d have no choice but to let the whole thing go, which was probably for the best.He’d done his due diligence and waited for her like the decent guy he hadn’t been when he’d kissed her a couple months ago.Now, he could take her back to her car, communicate with her as little as possible to plan this bachelor and bachelorette party, then go back to avoiding her while she returned the favor and avoided him.
But on twelve, she spoke.“Esme’s been in the system since she was a toddler.Foster families, group homes.The works.Her case manager, Tom, is great, but his plate is full to bursting, and it looks like the group home manager’s is the same.She’s thirteen, and I’ve mentored enough younger teens in the past year to know that’s hard enough.Their hormones could seriously be weaponized.”
Tyler couldn’t stop one corner of his mouth from kicking up at that, but he didn’t interrupt as she kept talking, her words pouring out like they’d been uncorked.
“I mean, yeah, she’s got a chip on her shoulder the size of Mount Rushmore, and no, that doesn’t make any of this easier.But now?After the trauma of witnessing amurderand having to wait while Intelligence investigates, then wait some more to see if there will be a trial where she has to testify?Or worse, that could put her in danger?Ugh, that would make even the toughest person on the planet crack.Esme talks a good game, but deep down, she’s just a kid.What if Intelligence never finds this guy?What if they do, and Esme has to take the stand and relive the whole thing?What if this guy is really scary and he tries to hurt her?What if this is all just too much?”
It was more than Chloe had said to him over the past two months combined, and even though he knew he shouldn’t, all Tyler wanted was more.
“The situation is less than ideal,” he started, course correcting when she arched one red-gold brow at him from the passenger seat.“Fine.No one should witness murders or feel scared or threatened, least of all a vulnerable teenaged kid, and the whole thing fucking sucks.But some of the stuff you’re worrying about hasn’t happened.”
