Justice(70)

“And I’ve had combat training. I spend three hours a week at the shooting range. I am a police officer. You aren’t.”

“You’re going to use yourself as bait, aren’t you?”

“If I have to.”

Justin leaps up. “You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, you know that?” He storms out, probably before he can smack me. I always have that effect on people.

“Justin!” I say as I follow him out.

He’s pacing the hall, running both hands through his blonde hair. He comes out of his own head when I step in. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.”

“Jo, in twenty years I’ve never asked you for anything. Not a damn thing. But I am asking this. I’m begging this. Please go. I just lost the love of my life. I couldn’t survive losing you.”

“I’ll go if you go.”

“I…I can’t. I have a business. I have to plan my fiancée’s funeral. I can’t go.”

I knew he wouldn’t agree. Neither of us has ever backed down from anything. “Then neither can I. I am not running away. And I am sure as hell not leaving everyone I care about unprotected in this city. If something happened, I would never forgive myself. Ever. I won’t risk that.”

Justin sighs angrily, and turns away from me. “There is nothing I can say or do to change your mind, is there?”

“No. Sorry.”

He doesn’t talk for a few seconds, but judging from his tense shoulders he is not happy. They slump and he hangs his head. “I’m so tired, Jo. I don’t…I don’t have any fight left in me. Do whatever you want,” he says walking away.

“Where are you going?” I call.

“I haven’t slept in over thirty-six hours. I’m calling Pelham Security to get round-the-clock guards for us and your family, and then I’m taking a sleeping pill and passing out for as long as I can so I can start planning a triple funeral. Okay?”

I rankle at this one. “Fine,” I say, not meaning it. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

“I know.” He slowly walks down the hall like a man on his way to the execution chamber. I shake my head, rolling my eyes. He’s never spoken to me like that. I know it’s the grief and anger, but it still hurts. I don’t do hurt well.

Cam and Harry remain seated but stand when I come in. “You just couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut, could you?” I ask, not hiding my fury.

“He has a right to know, Jo,” Cam says.

“Is he coming back?” Harry asks all business. “We have more questions.”

“Well, they’ll just have to wait, won’t they?”

Harry looks into my eyes, challenging me, but I’m never one to back down. It only lasts a few seconds before he looks away. “Fine. Then I guess we have everything we need here. When Mr. Pendergast is up to it, have him call us.”

They move toward the door, Cam squeezing my shoulder as he passes. Harry refuses to look at me. Knife to the heart. When they step out, I hug myself and pace around the room like a mad woman. God, I’ve ruined everything. Everything. I’ve hurt everyone I care about. Too much. This is too much. I can’t…I see something pink in the corner behind the grand piano. I kneel down and reach for it. It’s a fluffy pink bunny with a white nose. Daisy loved this thing. She carried it around in the crook of her small arm and chattered away to it like it was an old friend. She must have left it the last time she was here. She would have been devastated without him. Scared without her security blanket. I’m suddenly sick to my stomach and throw Fluffy Bunny back where I found it. I have to get out of here. I can’t stay in this house.

I catch up to the men outside just as they’re about to pull out. Cam rolls down his window as the press goes nuts. “Wait. I’m coming with you,” I say as I jump into the backseat.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Harry says.

“You guys keep harping on my safety. Where’s safer than a police station?” Harry opens his mouth to protest, but I talk before he can. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said back there. I know you were just looking out for me, but I can’t stay here. I’ll go nuts. I know I’m not on the case, but I can help in other ways. I’ll man the tip line. I’ll fetch you coffee, whatever. I just need to keep busy. Be productive. Please.”

“She does need to fill out her report as first responder,” Cam says.

“Don’t you want to stay with your friend?” Harry asks, emotionless.