Beautiful Redemption (30 page)

“You’re right, Jackson. I forgive you.”

Thomas’s cheeks flushed. “I feel terrible.”

“You should.”

“You’re not really done, Liis, not after one stupid mistake.”

“I don’t think we ever really got started, did we?”

“I have some pretty strong feelings here. I think you do, too. I know you don’t like to be out of your comfort zone, but this is just as frightening for me. I assure you.”

“I’m not afraid anymore. I took the leap. You just didn’t go with me.”

His expression changed. He was looking inside of me, into the depths I couldn’t hide. “You’re running. I scare the hell out of you.”

“Stop.”

His jaw muscles danced under his skin. “I won’t chase you, Liis. If you don’t want me, I’ll let you walk.”

“Good,” I said with a relieved smile. “Saves us both a lot of time.”

He begged me with his eyes. “I didn’t say I wanted you to.”

“Thomas,” I said, leaning forward, “I’m busy. Please let me know if you have any questions about my FD-three-oh-two. I’ll leave it with Constance by end of day.”

He stared at me in disbelief and then stood, turning for the door. He twisted the knob but hesitated, looking over his shoulder. “You can still catch a ride with me to and from work until you figure out the car situation.”

“Thank you,” I said. “But I’ve got something worked out with Val.”

He shook his head and blinked, and then he opened the door before closing it behind him. He turned right instead of left toward his office, and I knew he was going to the fitness room.

In the time it took Thomas to clear the security doors, Val scurried into my office and sat down. “That looked ugly.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s done.”

“What’s done?”

“We…kind of had a thing over the weekend. It’s over.”

“Already? He looks miserable. What did you do to him?”

“Why is it automatically my fault?” I snapped. When Val arched an eyebrow, I continued, “I agreed to try something similar to a relationship, and then he admitted to still being in love with Camille. Then, he called me Camille, so…” I played with the pencils in their holder, trying to keep from getting angry about it all over again.

“He called Camille?” she asked, confused.

“No, he called
me
Camille—as in, called me by her name by mistake.”

“In bed?” she shrieked.

“No,” I said, my face twisting into disgust. “On the beach. We were arguing. I’m still not sure about what.”

“Oh, this sounds promising. I guess we should have known two control freaks weren’t going to get along.”

“That’s what he said, too. Oh, by the way, you and I have a lunch date.”

“We do?”

“That’s what I told Thomas, so yes.”

“But I have plans with Marks.”

“Oh no, you owe me.”

“Fine,” she said, resting her elbow on my desk and then pointing at me. “But you’re going to give details about the whole weekend.”

“Sure. Right after you tell me all about your marriage.”

She rolled her eyes. “No!” she whined. “See? This is why I didn’t want you to know.”

“Realizing that not everyone wants to spill their every thought, feeling, and secret is a good lesson for you to learn. Glad I finally have some leverage.”

She glared at me. “You’re a bad friend. See you at lunch.”

I smiled at her, situating my headphones back onto my ears, and Val returned to her desk.

The rest of the day went on as usual as did the day after that.

Val would wait for me every morning, right outside the building. The better days were when I wouldn’t catch Thomas in the elevator. For the most part, he would be polite. He stopped coming to my office, instead directing me through emails from Constance.

We collected evidence against Grove, and in turn, used Tarou’s trust in him to gain intelligence. The answers hid within the small talk and smug comments between Grove and Tarou and his associates, like how gullible the Bureau was and how easy our system was to get around if one knew the right person.

Exactly two weeks after Thomas and I had given Polanski the disputably good news about Travis, I found myself in Cutter’s alone, bantering with Anthony.

“So, I told him, ‘Bitch, you don’t even know me,’” he said, cocking his head to one side.

I offered a weak clap and then held up my glass. “Well done.”

“Sorry that I got ratchet for a second, but that is what I told him.”

“I think you handled it well,” I said before taking another sip.

Anthony leaned over and jerked up his head once. “Why don’t you come in here with Maddox anymore? Why doesn’t Maddox come in here at all anymore?”

“Because the women of the world are systematically ruining his favorite places for him.”

“Oh, that’s lame. And they say I’m a drama queen.” His eyes widened for a beat.

“Who are
they
?”

“You know,” he said, dismissively waving his hand. “They.” He pointed at me. “You all need to fix it. It’s screwing with my tips.” He glanced up and then back down. “Uh-oh, Aqua Net, eleven o’clock.”

I didn’t turn. I didn’t need to. Sawyer was breathing in my ear in much less time than it should have taken him to walk to my chosen stool.

“Hey, beautiful.”

“They won’t take your money at the strip club?” I asked.

He grimaced. “You’re in a shitty mood. I know you’re not teacher’s pet anymore but no need to project your anger.”

I took a drink. “What do you know about being teacher’s pet? No one likes you.”

“Ouch,” Sawyer said, offended.

“I’m sorry. That was harsh. But in my defense, you would make at least one friend if you signed your damn papers.”

He blinked. “Wait—what are we talking about?”

“Your divorce papers.”

“I know, but are you saying we’re not friends anymore?”

“We are not,” I said before taking another drink.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Liis. You spend one weekend with Maddox, and you’re drinking the Kool-Aid.” He shook his head and took a swig from the beer bottle Anthony had set down in front of him. “I’m disappointed.”

“Just sign the papers. How hard is that?”

“Contrary to popular belief, ending a marriage is hard.”

“Really? I thought it would be easier for a cheater.”

“I didn’t cheat!”

I arched an eyebrow.

“Her”—he gestured to his eyes and head—“thing was driving me nuts. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be with someone and not be allowed to have any secrets?”

“Then, why would you cheat on her? You were basically asking for a divorce, and now, you won’t give her one.”

He laughed once, chugged his beer, and then set it on the bar. “Because I thought she’d stay out of my head after that.”

“That,” I said, nodding to Anthony when he set down a fresh Manhattan, “makes you sound like an idiot.”

He fingered his bottle. “I was. I was an idiot. But she won’t let me fix it.”

I craned my neck at him. “You’re still in love with Val?”

He kept his eyes on his beer. “Who do you think gave her the bunny on her desk for her birthday? Damn sure wasn’t Marks.”

“Oh, shit,” Anthony said. “I had a bet going with Marks that you were gay.”

“Your gaydar is off,” I said.

One side of Anthony’s mouth curved up. “I bet that he was straight.”

Sawyer’s nose wrinkled. “Marks thinks I’m gay? What the fuck?”

I cackled, and just as Anthony leaned over to speak, Thomas sat in the stool next to me.

“Anthony needs to tell you that I’m here,” Thomas said.

My back stiffened, and my smile faded. “Maddox,” I said, greeting him.

“No shade, Maddox,” Anthony said. “I just promised I’d have her back from now on.”

Thomas looked confused.

“He means,
no offense
,” I said.

“Oh,” Thomas said.

“The usual?” Anthony asked, seeming annoyed that I’d had to translate.

“I’ll have a Jack and Coke tonight,” Thomas said.

“You got it.”

Sawyer leaned forward. “Bad day, boss?”

Thomas didn’t answer. Instead, he stared at his hands clasped in front of him on the bar.

Sawyer and I traded glances.

I continued our conversation, “Does she know?”

“Of course she knows. She knows everything,” Sawyer said with a grimace.

“It might just be time to move on.”

A couple of young guys pushed through the door. I’d never seen them here before, but they walked with their chests puffed out and their arms swinging. I began to turn around as one of them gave me a once-over.

“Nice blazer, Yoko,” he said.

Sawyer put his foot on the ground and began to stand, but I touched his arm.

“Ignore them. The Casbah had a rock concert tonight. They’re probably coming from there and looking for a fight. Look at the big one’s shirt.”

Sawyer quickly glanced in the pair’s direction, pointing out the two-inch long rip around the collar of the man’s T-shirt. We ordered another round. Thomas finished his drink, tossed a bill on the bar, and left without a word.

“That was weird,” Sawyer said. “He hasn’t been in here in how long?”

“Over two weeks,” Anthony said.

Sawyer spoke, “And he shows up, has one drink, and leaves.”

“Doesn’t he usually only have one drink?” I asked.

Anthony nodded. “But never when he has that look on his face.”

I turned toward the door, seeing the ripped T-shirt guy and his friend leaving. “That didn’t last long.”

“I heard them say they were bored. Apparently, the service was too slow,” Anthony said with a wink.

“You’re brilliant,” I said with a grin.

“You should talk to Val one more time, Sawyer. Lay it all out on the table. If she doesn’t go for it though, you need to move out, and you need to sign those papers. You’re not being fair to her.”

“You’re right. I hate you, but you’re right. And no matter what you say, Lindy, we’re still friends.”

“Fine.”

Sawyer and I tabbed out, said good-bye to Anthony, and then walked across the dark room, pushing out the door. The sidewalk was well lit, traffic was normal, but something was off.

Sawyer touched my arm.

“You, too?” I asked.

We carefully approached the corner, and someone groaned.

Sawyer meant to take a quick peek around, but he stared, and his mouth fell open. “Oh, shit!”

I followed him and immediately pulled out my cell phone. The two men from the bar were lying in matching puddles of blood.

“Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

“I have two males, early to mid-twenties, badly beaten on the sidewalk in Midtown. They’re both going to need an ambulance on the scene.”

Sawyer checked them both. “This one’s unresponsive,” he said.

“They’re both breathing. One is unresponsive.”

I gave her the address and then pressed End.

Sawyer glanced around. A middle-aged couple was walking in the opposite direction on the next block, but other than them and a homeless man digging in the trash on the corner to the north, the block was empty. I saw no one who looked suspicious.

Sirens echoed in the distance.

Sawyer shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “I guess they found the fight they were looking for.”

“Maybe it was the people they had a run-in with earlier?”

Sawyer shrugged. “Not my jurisdiction.”

“Funny.”

A police cruiser arrived within minutes, followed soon after by an ambulance. We told them what we knew, and once we offered them credentials, we were free to leave.

Sawyer walked me to the lobby and gave me a hug.

“Sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” I asked. “Whoever did that could still be out there.”

Sawyer chuckled. “Shut up, Lindy.”

“Good night. See you tomorrow.”

“Nope. I’ll be out.”

“Oh, right. The, uh…the thing,” I said. My head was fuzzy. I was glad we’d decided to leave the bar when we did.

“I’m tailing one of our Vegas sources, Arturo.”

“Benny’s guy? Why is he in San Diego?” I asked.

“Benny sent him to visit his new Eastern family. I’m making sure he stays on the straight and narrow. I don’t want the Yakuza guys to scare him into disclosing or alerting them to our interest.”

“Sounds very official.”

“It always is. Night.”

Sawyer pushed out of the lobby doors, and I turned to press the elevator button. It was smudged with fresh blood. I glanced around and then used the inside of my blazer to clean it.

The doors slid open, the chime pleasant and welcoming, but when I stepped inside, my heart sank. The button for the sixth floor was smeared with blood as well.

Again, I used my blazer to hide the evidence, and then I waited impatiently for the doors to open. I stomped out and walked straight to Thomas’s door, banging on the metal. When he didn’t answer, I banged again.

“Who is it?” Thomas asked from the other side.

“Liis. Open the fuck up.”

A chain rattled, the bolt lock clicked, and then Thomas opened his door. I pushed through, shouldering past him, and then twirled around, crossing my arms.

Thomas had an ice pack on his right hand and a bloody bandage on his left.

“Christ! What did you do?” I said, reaching for his bandage.