I shake my hands out and wipe away the stray tears as I walk to the fridge. I grab the opened bottle of wine from the bottom shelf, a cabernet. I take a glass from the cabinet above the sink and ignore the dishes. They can wait. I just need to settle in a bit first.
I close my eyes and watch the scene from the alley play out again. I did everything right, flashed my badge, said hands up. First guy reaches, I shoot him in the hand. Second guy comes at me, but I’m too slow. I play the scene over while I fill the glass about halfway. Both hands were on the gun. There was nothing I could do with the other one coming after me. I needed a hand free.
I replay it over and over, trying to come up with a better strategy. But I don’t think there was one. I definitely did right by going for the armed one first. Maybe if I'd used the butt of the gun to smash in the second fucker's nose, that may have been more effective. I rewind a bit in my mind. I should’ve turned sooner, before I'd gone so far down the alley. Fuck me, I just shouldn’t have gone down there in the first place. That was fucking stupid.
Thomas is why my head is all fucked up. He does something to me. He makes me stupid, that’s his fucking superpower. He blinds me from all this shit that I’ve trained myself to do. He makes me feel...safe, in a weird way. I feel unstoppable around him. That’s not a good thing. Maybe it’s because he gives me hope. When I think about the end to all this shit, when I think about having some sort of closure, I see him there. I can see him handing it to me. Telling me Petrov’s dead. That I don’t have to face my demons, because he’s already killed them for me. Maybe it’s my way of dealing with the failure of not finding Petrov. Maybe I’ve made it all up.
I don’t know, I’m not a fucking shrink.
I tip the glass back and drain it. Mmm, I love the taste. I set the glass down on the counter and strip as I make my way to my bedroom. Most of my things are still in boxes. I need to make time to put that shit away. I toss the clothes into the hamper. At least that’s not overflowing. Score one for me.
My feet patter against the tiled floor as I turn the water on to fucking-scorching, just how I like it. I look at my face in the mirror as the water heats and steam starts to fill the stall.
I look back at a stranger.
This isn’t who I used to be.
I look… tired. That’s exactly how I look. And I am, I’m so damn tired. I’m lonely and angry. And fucking sad and miserable.
The need for justice. The need for vengeance. They’ve taken over a part of me that I miss. But they are needs. I need to know if Petrov is dead. If he’s not, I won’t stop. I hate that I’ve come to the end of this lead, all because Thomas won’t give me an inch.
Suddenly, I wish I had more on his ass. I want something to make him talk. I need him to tell me. I could use what happened today. But that’d be so fucking wrong. I feel like a bitch for even thinking it. Maybe this anger that’s driving me, this desire to fuck him over until I get what I need, maybe that’s what fuels Harrison every fucking day.
The realization snaps me out of my thoughts. No, I can’t do that. I shouldn’t want that.
But I know that Thomas knows. He could tell me where Petrov is, or if he’s dead. I know he can.
I step into the shower deciding I need to push him just a bit more. After all, I’ve given him something. I could have called it in, the scene today. I should have called it in.
But he didn’t have to do it. He didn’t have to help me.
Oh fuck, I’m such a bitch. I never even thanked him.
I let the hot water hit my skin and fucking hate the obsession that’s taken me over. Who am I? I shake my head and try to shake off all these unwanted feelings, all these horrible thoughts. I don’t like the person I’ve become. I just want it all to stop.
If only he’d help me.
Tommy
I look out of the peephole and curse under my breath. This broad has a fucking death wish. I stand in front of the closed door and listen as the loud knock echoes in my apartment. Fucking hell. She just won’t let it be.
This is what I get for wanting to find out more about this broad. Vince already bitched at me for involving myself. He couldn’t hold it against me though. Not when I fed him a little lie about how she was shaken up from how they'd roughed her up.
I really think she was a bit messed up from it. But I may have exaggerated some to get myself off the hook.
I decided I was done with this that night, done with her. I should threaten a restraining order. I could do it, too. I’ve told her I don’t want to talk.
And now she’s standing outside my door.
“I know you’re home, Thomas,” she yells from the other side. “I just wanna talk.” I roll my eyes. No shit. That’s all this broad wants from me. ‘Cause she’s a cop.