My finger twitched on the trigger. I met Tyler’s eyes, then looked at Charley.
I have to. This time, it really will be justice.
I didn’t wait to see if he understood. I just lifted my gun and then, knowing that I was perfectly justified, I blew the devil back to hell.
The paramedics assured us that Amy would be fine, then whisked her off to the hospital. Tyler and I were separated, each giving a statement to a different detective. I didn’t know how this would shake down, but I wasn’t too worried. Tyler had found another gun in Charley’s office, and after firing off a round in the vault, he’d given it to the dead man, making what happened look remarkably like self-defense.
When the cops were finished with us, I went to Tyler, who was waiting for me in the warehouse. I fell into his arms, and we sank to the floor, leaning against a Coke machine. “I love you,” I said, then kissed him.
He rose, and held out a hand for me. “Come on, Detective. Let’s go home.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Stay.”
We were in Grant Park, walking among the Agora, and I felt as lost as they were.
Tyler tugged me to a stop. “Stay,” he said again. “I love you, Sloane Watson. I don’t want to lose you.” He cupped my face with his hand. “I told you once that I always get what I want. That’s you. Don’t make a liar out of me.”
I managed the tiniest of smiles. “I want you, too,” I said. “But I love my job. And maybe you’re even right. Maybe I went into it in part to punish myself. To use the rules and the laws and all the strict procedure as a cage of sorts to punish myself for what I did. I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter,” he said, but I shook my head.
“No, because however I came into it, I really do believe in what I do. In finding justice for people who’ve been wronged.”
I drew in a breath, then laid out the horrible truth. “You’re right. I can push the envelope. I can bend the rules. And, yeah, I can break a few. God knows I proved that. But I can’t say that I’m sworn as an officer of the law when the man in my bed is breaking it at every turn. And not to save girls, but for profit.”
“Sloane—”
I pressed a finger to his lips. I heard the anguish in his voice, but I had to keep going, because if I didn’t finish this, I was afraid that I would back away from the decision. And I couldn’t do that. So long as he and I did what we did, this was the right decision. It was the only decision.
In the end, I think we both knew it.
“Please,” I said. “Let me finish. I love you. Dear god, I love you with a length and breadth I never even thought possible. And I will keep your secrets until the day I die. But if we’re together—if it’s the cop and the criminal—and I’m living that lie, it will chip away and chip away at me until I am no longer the woman you love.”
“Then don’t live it,” he said. “Quit.”
“You know better than that. It’s who I am. You say you love me, and I know it’s true. But, Tyler, you see me better than anyone, so you know I’m right. You know this is who I am.”
I managed a smile, thin and a little sad.
“That’s why I can’t ask you to quit, either. You are the man you are—I’m not in love with some polished version of you. And I am in love with you. Desperately. Hopelessly.”
“You’re breaking my heart, Sloane. Before you, I never thought it was possible.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, as a tear traced down my cheek. “But I have to leave. I have to go home.”
Before I could stop him, he drew me close and pressed his lips to mine, soft yet firm. Possessive, yet tender.
When he drew back, I saw the familiar fire in those ice blue eyes. “I won’t try to change your mind. Not right now, anyway. But I want to say something, and I want you to listen. To really hear me. Okay?”
I nodded.
“You’re right,” he said. “I do see you. I see everything about you. The good, the bad, the courageous, the bold. I see a woman who fights for what’s right. And, sweetheart you don’t need a badge to do that.”
He lifted my hand and pressed a gentle kiss to my palm. “This may be goodbye,” he said. “But it isn’t the end.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Isn’t she the most beautiful thing ever?” Candy said, cuddling her new baby daughter close. “My sweet little Brianna.”
“She’s amazing,” I said sincerely, and beside me Amy nodded agreement, still a bit shaky, but doing well after more than a week of recovery.
“I didn’t think I’d get to meet you,” Amy said, bending over to stroke the infant’s head. She turned to look at me, and I saw the gratitude in her eyes, now brimming with tears.
“Do you want to hold her?” Candy asked Amy.
“Oh, yes.”
“I’ll get a chair,” I said, then scooted one of the uncomfortable blue guest chairs closer to the bed.
Amy took the baby, holding her as if she were glass, then started to softly sing. I watched them, then turned to smile at Candy. She gestured me over, and I moved to sit carefully on the side of her bed.
“And how are you feeling, Mommy?”
“Good. Tired. Although this one gave me less trouble than Sam.”
“Is he excited about having a little sister?”
“Over the moon. Jim took him out to the store,” she added, referring to the bartender she’d married, who was the love of her life. “Gonna buy little sis a stuffed rabbit. And maybe something for himself, too,” she added with a wink.
“I’m glad,” I said, feeling foolishly sentimental. And trying very hard not to think of Tyler. Considering he seemed to be in my mind constantly, that wasn’t an easy task.
“So here I am, in this comfy bed with a television and my new baby and friends and people to wait on me. I’m doing fine,” Candy said. “How are you doing?”
“Great,” I said, then conjured a perky smile.
“She misses Tyler,” Amy said, and I shot her a withering look. She just smiled. “Well, you do. When we drove back here after they let me out of the hospital, he saw us off. It was sappily romantic.”
Not romantic, I thought. Torture.
I’d walked away. I’d left him behind. And though I’d been absolutely certain that was the right thing to do, now I was haunted by regret and memory, loneliness and loss.