Page 43 of The Shield
I thought about lying. It had been a long day for that.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I know I don’t want to go back to pretending.” I slid down from the table, finding my shoes, my jacket, my spine. “So, let’s go tell my city where the water’s going. And then—” I let myself look at his mouth, at the line of his throat, shameless after all these hours. “—you can finish anything you consider unfinished.”
His mouth edged toward a smile that didn’t get there and was somehow worse for it. “Yes, ma’am.”
We straightened clothes in the horse-scented quiet, the rain a steady witness overhead, the world outside sharpening for whatever came next.
18
ETHAN
The drive back to City Hall felt like a stretch of road I'd known all my life, even though I'd only rolled into Charleston days ago. Natalie sat close, her hand resting on my thigh at first, then drifting higher as the rain drummed steady on the truck's roof. We were like kids on a first date, the kind where every touch felt like a secret worth keeping, her fingers tracing lazy circles that sent a quiet heat through me.
She claimed me with that hand, bold and unapologetic, like she'd decided I was hers to hold, and that was just fine with me. I kept one hand on the wheel, the other tangled with hers, the cab filled with the scent of wet earth and her—lavender and storm, a mix that grounded me even as my mind wandered to what might come next.
But thoughts of round two faded as we neared City Hall, the scene unfolding like a storm breaking loose. The place was a zoo, politicians clustered on the steps, barking into microphones with that rehearsed urgency, their voices carrying over the rain like they owned the weather itself. Cameras flashed, umbrellasbobbed, and crowds pressed in, a mix of locals and tourists caught in the downpour.
I pulled the truck to the curb, the wipers slashing at the sheet of water on the windshield, and spotted him almost immediately—the man in the gray suit, standing off to the side under a black umbrella, his posture relaxed but his eyes fixed on the chaos like he was waiting for something specific. Me, maybe.
I didn't have to say a word about leaving. Natalie sensed it, her hand tightening on me before she pulled away. "I have to get to work," she said, her voice calm, steady as the rain. "Show these politicians how to do their jobs."
I nodded, admiring the light in her eyes, the way she didn't hesitate. "Go on. I'll find you later."
She leaned in for a quick kiss, then hurried out, dashing through the rain toward the steps, her ponytail swinging with determination.
As the truck door slammed shut, I got another look at the man in the gray suit. Our eyes locked for a second, his gaze unreadable under the umbrella's shadow, then he turned and started walking away, his steps measured, blending into the flow of the crowd like he was just another face in the storm.
Something pulled at me, a growing mystery that made the air feel thicker, the rain colder against my skin. Who was he? Why show up now, watching like he knew exactly what was unfolding? The unease crept in, slow at first, but building as I watched him recede.
I killed the engine and stepped out, the downpour soaking me in seconds, but I didn't care. I followed, my boots splashing through puddles, the city's hum fading behind me as the mystery deepened, pulling me farther from the safety of the crowd.
He moved with purpose, not rushing but not lingering, his umbrella bobbing slightly with each step. The rain blurred theedges of the street, turning the world into a watercolor of gray buildings and slick pavement.
I picked up my pace, closing the distance, my breath steady despite the chill seeping into my bones. He turned a corner onto a quieter side street, the noise of City Hall dimming, and I rounded it after him, only to see him just ahead. I reached out, my hand clamping on his shoulder, spinning him around.
But it wasn't him. A different man, older, with a lined face and surprised eyes, glared back at me, his gray suit identical but his build slighter, his umbrella tipping rain onto my boots.
"What the hell?" he snapped, shrugging off my hand, his voice laced with indignation. "Watch where you're going, buddy."
I muttered an apology, stepping back, the unease twisting sharper in my gut. The man huffed and walked on, leaving me standing there, rain pounding down. How had I mistaken him? The suit, the umbrella, the walk—it had looked the same.
I scanned the street, the mystery growing like the storm clouds overhead, a sense that something was off, that I was being toyed with in ways I couldn't yet see.
Shaking it off, I kept moving, the rain now a constant sheet that soaked through my shirt. Another gray suit caught my eye up ahead, the umbrella angled against the wind.
I quickened my step, the unease building, a prickle at the back of my neck like eyes watching from the shadows. I caught up, grabbing his arm, turning him to face me.
Wrong again. This one was younger, his face clean-shaven and annoyed, his eyes narrowing as he yanked free.
"Hey, asshole, what's your problem?" he barked, his voice carrying a city edge, his suit dripping but identical, the umbrella nearly jabbing me as he gestured.
I raised my hands, backing off, the confusion deepening into a low hum of frustration.
"Sorry, thought you were someone else," I said, but the words felt hollow.
The man muttered something under his breath and stormed off, leaving me in the rain, the mystery coiling tighter. It couldn't be coincidence. The suits, the umbrellas—they were too alike, the timing too perfect. But who would orchestrate this? And why?
The street narrowed, buildings closing in, the rain turning the world to a haze of gray. I spotted another one ahead, his walk measured, umbrella steady. The unease grew, a slow burn that eroded the calm I’d always relied on. I was used to being the steady one, the rock in the storm, but this felt different, like the ground was shifting under my feet. I jogged to catch up, my breath coming a little harder now, and spun him around.
