This wasn’t right. None of this was right.
Tara set the ballpoint down and handed the fix over. “This is everything you need to know to get rid of the issue. You address that, and I won’t be able to get in.”
Cooper took the paper. “Thank you for your cooperation. I’m sorry it had to go down like this.”
Tara nodded, her mouth pinched tight. “May I go now? Or am I still going to jail?”
“Yes, of course. The deal was if you helped us, you’d be free to go.” Cooper sat back down. “Jake can see you out.”
Jake grabbed her and escorted her to the door, not saying a word. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Not until he figured out how to tell her what had really happened here.
They were halfway across the office when Tara stopped, her arm stiff under his fingers. She turned slowly, looking first at Jake, then at Cooper. “Sorry it had to go like what? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Cooper shoved the code into his safe and closed it. He looked at Jake, his cheeks flushing. “It was the only way we could think of to get you to—”
“Oh my God.” Tara pulled free from Jake’s grip, her cheeks flushed. “I’m such a fool. This was all some elaborate plan to get me to confess, wasn’t it?”
Jake’s heart dropped to the floor at his feet. He’d hoped to think of a way to break it to her gently. He’d hoped…too damn much. “Tara, it’s—”
“Don’t.” She gave him her back, focusing on his boss. “Who was really on the phone?”
“Gordon. One of my detectives out there,” Cooper admitted, his shoulders tense. “I’m sorry, but we knew you wouldn’t give in. Jake didn’t want to send you to jail, and frankly, neither did I. So we used the one thing we could think of against you.”
Tara spun on her heel, her head held high despite the tremble in her lower lip. She focused on Jake. “You.”
His stomach rolled. “Not me, exactly. More so your compassion for others. I’m sorry.”
Tara shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. “There’s nothing you can say to me right now that’ll make this okay.”
“I needed to keep you safe. I did what I had to do,” he said.
She laughed bitterly. “I’m such an idiot.”
“I’m sorry, but I—” Jake tried to grab her arms, but she shoved free. He stepped closer to her, but she backed up. Making himself stand still, he thrust his hands into his pockets to avoid touching her when she so obviously didn’t want him to. “I did the only thing I could, under the circumstances.”
She trembled with rage. “You don’t get to excuse your behavior to me. I’m done here, and I never want to see either of you ever again.”
When she spun on her heel and left, Jake watched her go, clueless about what to do next. What to say. What to feel. He’d won, but he’d really lost. “Shit.”
Cooper, who sat behind his desk looking awkward and out of place, cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, man. I could have tried to make this work in another way, maybe.”
“No. It had to be this way. It’s the only way I could guarantee her safety.”
Cooper stood up, grabbed Jake’s keys and ID, and tossed them over. “You should go after her. Try to make her understand why you did what you did. I can see there’s more between you two than meets the eye.”
Jake took his stuff. “About that…”
“Don’t feel the need to explain. I knew you two had history together, but I sent you into that case anyway. Maybe it was a test of sorts, to make sure you wouldn’t get dragged back into that lifestyle.” Cooper rubbed the back of his neck and avoided Jake’s scrutiny. “I had to be sure. I’m sorry, man.”
A test? This had all been a test? He’d passed it, but he’d lost Tara in the process. “It’s okay. I get it.”
“You should go after her,” Cooper said. “Explain yourself.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll excuse myself for the day. I need to go home.”
Cooper nodded. “Of course. Take the rest of the day off, man.”
Jake didn’t bother to reply, just crossed the office and headed for the stairs. She didn’t want to see him, but he needed to see her, damn it. Needed to make her see why he’d done what he’d done. Then she’d walk away from him.
For the rest of his life, he’d be the same Jake he’d become ever since his injury. A recluse. Constantly alone. Always serious. Never having fun. Damn it, he wished that file with her name on it had never crossed his desk, because if he hadn’t seen her again…