Page 20 of The Biggest Sacrifice

Including her.

“Just friends?” she squeaks out and pulls back. I grab her hip and hold her in place.

“Yeah, just friends.” I step into her space again. She’s trapped between me and the wall. “But ‘just friends’ don’t get jealous when they see someone else’s hands on what belongs to me. ‘Just friends’ don’t threaten a fellow police officer and drag each other out of coffee shops. ‘Just friends’ don’t touch like we do. ‘Just friends’ don’t fuck like we do.”

She slaps me across the face; the force turning my head to the side.

“Then I’m not just a friend! Don’t you dare diminish what we had and don’t you dare want me now because someone else showed interest! You don’t get to play this game with me anymore! I refuse the whiplash you give me!” She’s shaking and takes a deep breath before pushing me away from her. She leaves her hands outstretched, but I take another step back. I can’t have her touch me and hear these words at the same time. “Tommy, I need more than empty words and surprise goodbyes.” She steps closer again and just when I think she may slap me again, she lays her hand on my heart.

Because that’s who she is.

Sugar and Spice.

But together, we’re fire and ice. Power with vulnerability. A lion with his mouse. I know it, but I won't allow it to happen.

“I needthis.” She touches my temple. “And this.” She lays her hand on my heart. “Your tarzan attitude today shows me you’re still not ready to make that commitment. You just want the toy you threw away, now that you see that someone else has picked it up.”

She walks away from me, down the hall and to the front door. “I won’t say it again to you, Tommy. Don’t make me keep hurting myself, and you, by begging for something you can’t give.”

I watch as she walks out the door, my brain fighting my body, telling it to move, to run after her. To tell her I love her and I want to spend my life with her. But my body locks up and refuses to give in. The last time I ran for someone, I was too late and it left a lasting scar.

CHAPTER 12

TOM

“Well,well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.” Chief Vincent Hunter jumps from his chair, comes around his desk and grabs me into a full on hug.

“Good to see you, Chief.”

“Oh, Tom, you too, son. You, too. When did you get in?” He slaps me on the arm. “You sneaky fuck, your family kept it under wraps pretty tight.”

I laugh at his choice of words. “My family didn’t know. I surprised them, too.”

He guffaws at me. “Bet that went over well with Frank and Janet.” He motions for me to sit, and we both take up residence on his couch.

“You know Mom, she hasn’t stopped crying. Or calling. Or stopping by with food. And Dad, well, he doesn’t say much.”

“Doesn’t have to. It seems your mother is doing that job.”

“She always does that job.” I laugh.

He jumps up and pours two scotches. “We need to celebrate, son. I’m so happy to have you back.”

I laugh at his calling me son. Chief Hunter is only ten years older than me. But his forty-two years of hard living has brought him experiences everyone else can only dream of. It’s probably why we get along so well. I feel I’ve already lived a hundred lives and so has he. We commiserate together, and it’s nice having someone who truly understands. Handing me the glass, I take it and we clink ours together. “I’m happy to be home.” We pound the first one. He fills the glasses again and settles in next to me once more. This time, we sip.

“Are you really happy?” He eyes me. This guy always knew I was never one to sit idle.

Finishing my swallow, I nod. “Sure. I’ve got nieces and nephews I need to spoil.”

He chuckles. “Your family is turning them out like it’s a factory over there.” He‘s got that right. I won’t say that I noticed Chelsea was only drinking soda the other night.

This small talk is making me cringe. “So, when can I start back? I’m guessing you have to give the new guy enough notice, right?”

He tips his head slightly. “New guy?”

I tip my head towards the main lobby where the desks are. “Yeah. O’Brien. When are you sending him on his way?”

Watching as the Chief takes another swallow, then places the glass on the table in front of him, I know I’m not going to like his next words. “I’m not, Tom. I’m keeping him on.”

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