And this is your shot to get your hands on her, dickhead. Don’t fucking blow it. You’ll have to be with her, sleep close to her, protect her. You can fuck her and get her out of your system and then you won’t have this ache in your gut every time she walks in a room. You can be free of her. You’ll see it wouldn’t ever work. You’ll know.
“I’ll take care of her. This is my case.” He needed to use the words his old Army buddies would recognize and respect. “My op.”
His op. His way. His charge.
Fuck. Karina Mills was going to be in his care, his responsibility.
One way or another, he would save her. Whether she liked it or not.
* * * *
Karina Mills looked out the window of the conference room and wondered exactly what the hell she’d done to piss the DPD off. She had to admit, it was the first time in a long time she’d had her ass hauled to jail.
Hey, Kevin, at least this time I wasn’t in cuffs.
It was so hard to stand in a police department and not think of him. Years had passed and she could still remember how he looked sitting at his desk in Brooklyn, the one across from his partner. It was always neat as a pin, perfectly organized. Perfect. Like Kevin himself. Her smiling protector.
Unlike that asshole Derek Brighton, who always frowned her way. Always made her feel like she was dirt underneath his shoe. The one and only time they’d played together had been beyond awkward because they’d been in the middle of a case that ended with him accusing her of impeding an investigation and her siccing IA on his ass in revenge.
She shouldn’t have done it, but she wasn’t sure how to apologize. And it was likely for the best because they didn’t fit.
So why was she so damn attracted to him? Why did she sit around and wonder why he smiled at all the other subs but never had one for her? Why did he and he alone have the capacity to make her remember who she really was?
She could clean herself up. She could do good. She could fly right, but underneath all of it, she was still a junkie.
Once an addict, always an addict. She was one misstep away from sticking a needle in her arm, and the minute she forgot it, she would fall off the very sturdy wagon she’d built for herself.
Thank god for sealed records or she wouldn’t have a job at all. She seriously doubted McKay-Taggart would pay her intensely high fees if Big Tag knew she’d been a high school drug addict and minor criminal. Li O’Donnell likely wouldn’t play cards with her, and he certainly wouldn’t let her anywhere near his precious Avery.
She would lose all her friends. Ashley and Jill would probably back away. It was just what people did when they realized how badly she’d fucked up in the past.
Need rose, hard and fast. The need to get out of herself for a while, to not think about anything, to shut her never-ending thoughts up. She very calmly took a long drink of coffee. Bitter. Not a hint of sweet. Just like she liked it. She stared out and thought about hitting a meeting. She would find the nearest one the minute she got out of here.
Hiding who she was—it was a no no in the book of sobriety and yet she couldn’t make herself talk about it to her new friends. Couldn’t put herself out there to be judged and found wanting.
She didn’t even want to think about what Lieutenant Brighton would do if he found out about her past. He would likely give her his trademark hot-guy smirk and tell her he’d always known there was something wrong with her.
Or worse, he would look at her with pity.
She took a deep breath and for the millionth time wished Kevin hadn’t died. Wished he’d been less of a hero. Wished her Dom, her husband, was still with her, easing her way through life, teaching her control and the beauty of submission and trust.
If anything ever happens to me, you be brave, Karina. You be the woman I know you can be. You don’t have to accept who you were. Be the you you want to be. My beautiful wife. My strong sub.
Guilt gnawed at her gut because as much as she’d loved Kevin Mills, she’d never felt the shock of lust she got the minute Derek Brighton walked into a room. It was perverse. It was wrong.
Sometimes it was all she thought about. Years and years had gone by without sex and she was all right with it for the most part. Only Derek had sparked the need in her.
The door opened and Karina turned, frowning as a whole line of people she knew very well walked in.
Eve and Alex McKay were followed by Sean Taggart and Liam O’Donnell, and that gorgeous bastard Brighton. She looked at him freely because he so rarely glanced her way. She was free to study him since he avoided her eyes. He was roughly six two with a pelt of brown and gold hair he kept in a cut that would have made his old CO proud. There was just the hint of a five o’clock shadow on his jaw, though it was barely one o’clock in the afternoon. He probably shaved twice a day, as though his masculinity was always trying to make itself known. She’d thought often about kissing that rigid jawline of his until it softened.