She used the downtime to get some extra rehearsals in with Simon. Knowing Damian wasn’t thrilled about that, she kept any talk of Simon to a minimum. It didn’t help that he’d begun to insist she use one of his cars to get to and from work. But she wasn’t having it. Even the one car he owned that wasn’t a classic was a brand-new luxury car. Any of them parked in her neighborhood overnight would be stripped down and left on cinder blocks by morning. So when she tried to persuade him not to worry about her walking or taking the bus home after her late rehearsals, because Simon was more than happy to give her a ride home, it hadn’t gone over too well. Ever since she had avoided the topic at all costs.
To her surprise, the only reaction Max had had to the revelation that not only was she not in Mexico, but she now had a boyfriend was to tell her he was no idiot and he’d known all along. He claimed he’d made a trip out to Vegas, and since he was in town decided it’d be fun to check it out for himself. She didn’t ask how he knew where she’d be that night, because she knew he was full of it. When she tried to explain that Damian had only been in her life for a couple of months, not the entire time she’d been gone, he’d scoffed, saying that was bullshit. But she didn’t argue, especially when he’d told her there’d be no more delays.
Another surprise was that he didn’t do anything to try to make her life miserable, as she’d been certain he would. The texts and calls, however, still continued with all his non-updates.
The night they’d gone salsa dancing after Damian had snapped about her shoving her phone in her bag, she’d decided at first that until this was all over she just wouldn’t check her phone at all when she was around Damian. She thought it safer, and going a few hours without looking at her phone wouldn’t kill her. Then Max had shown up. Ever since, she’d hear the jaws music whenever the text or missed-call indicator flashed on her phone. She needed to make sure he wouldn’t surprise her again by popping up unannounced, so she’d been forced to continue checking her phone even around Damian.
Inevitably, there’d been a few moments when she’d flinched or bumbled her response to Damian’s casual inquiry about who she was texting. Because of her second show now and the need for additional rehearsals, a few of those times she’d claimed she was responding to a text from Simon with something related to her show and rehearsals. Damian didn’t even try hiding his annoyance at that, but it was better than the truth.
She exited the bus, and just a few blocks from her place she answered Damian’s call, already smiling. “Hi, baby.”
“God, I miss you,” he said with that familiar exhilaration laced with a bit of remorse in his voice.
It had only been four days since she’d last gotten to spend more than a few stolen moments with him, but he was right. It felt like an eternity. She wouldn’t make him feel worse. He’d canceled on her again last night, and he’d sounded even more pissed about having to than usual. “I know, I miss you, too,” she said, trying not to sound as desperate as her heart felt, praying that he wasn’t canceling on her again. “You’re off today, right?”
“Yes!” he said quickly. “But I do have to go in for one thing right now. I should be free by this afternoon. I can pick you up around two?”
Feeling excited already, she smiled hugely. “That’s perfect. I have some errands to run in the meantime.”
“Good. Just be ready by two, please.” She smiled, knowing he felt as desperate as she did, but then he added, “How did it go last night, by the way? Whatcha end up doing all by yourself?”
That made her wince as she opened the door to her apartment. Because of her limited time with Damian, even though she did spend some of her downtime while he had to work rehearsing, she’d also flaked out on some of those rehearsals at the last minute if it meant she might get to see Damian, even if only for a few minutes. Sometimes he’d call her and let her know he’d be in her area following a lead in the case, and he could stop by for twenty or thirty minutes. She felt bad, but if she had to choose between a few minutes with Damian and going in to rehearse, Damian won hands down. Since she’d done that a couple of times in the last four days, last night when Damian canceled, she decided to text Simon and ask if he was free to rehearse.
“I wasn’t alone, actually. I went in and made up for the rehearsals I’d canceled earlier this week.”
He was quiet for a moment. She knew he wouldn’t be thrilled. But this was work, and she’d been kind of flaky about it lately, something she’d never been before. It was all because of him, and it was worth being labeled a flake to see him. Still, she was glad she’d gotten the chance to make up for it last night.
“You took the bus at night?”
She shook her head as she dropped her bag on her bed. It figures that’s the first thing he’d focus on. “No, Simon picked me up.” Hearing him go quiet again, she added the reminder. “We had a lot to make up for.”
“Do you talk to this guy about us?”
“What? No!” She shook her head. “The only thing he knows now, because it did come up, was that you’re my boyfriend.”
“Oh, I’m sure the subject of your love life came up. How late did you rehearse?”
“Late,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut, because she could already sense this might turn into an argument. She just hoped it didn’t get ugly. “The show’s a little longer now and—”
“How late?”
Taking a deep breath, she stood her ground. This was work, and he had to know he had nothing to be worried about. They’d been over this more than once. “Late, Simon, it was—”
“What did you just call me?”
Hearing his murderous tone and realizing what she’d just done, she brought her hand to her face, practically slapping her forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I was just thinking about—”
“How late were you with him last night, Bethany?”
“First of all I wasn’t with him . . . Damian,” her conviction waned a little after catching herself before calling him Simon again. What the hell was wrong with her? “Second, this is work. I’d flaked out on rehearsal for work twice this week for a chance to be with you. And it was totally worth it, but we had a lot of lost rehearsal time to make up for. I wish you knew how almost the entire time I thought of you. Every song about love that I sing now means so much more than it ever did before. The whole time I’m singing, all I think of is you.”
He said nothing for a moment, and she held her breath. “How late?”
Letting out an exasperated breath, she ran her fingers through her hair, deciding to try to see this from his perspective. She’d never even thought to ask him if some of the other detectives he’d been spending so much time with lately were women. Would she be uncomfortable if one were a good-looking woman who she knew was interested in him? Absolutely. But he had to know she was crazy about him and would never do anything to hurt him. “Baby, did you hear what I just said.”
“Yeah, I heard,” he said, his voice calmer, almost somber. “I’m just curious.”
She sat down on her bed, feeling defeated. “Until almost midnight. Rehearsals running that late in this business is not unheard of, Damian. Ask your brother.”
“I don’t have to,” he said. “I remember.” She heard him take a deep breath, and she hated that he’d gone from being so happy to talk to her to sounding so down now. “Be ready for me at two, babe. I can hardly wait to see you.”
“I will. I love you, baby. I really, really do.”
“I love you, too.” He sighed. “Too much.”
She hung up feeling bittersweet. Thinking back to her earlier mental comparison, she frowned. What if she found out now that all this time Damian had been working late, he’d been doing so side by side with a woman? One he admitted had a thing for him. How would she feel even if he assured her their relationship was purely a professional one?
She closed her eyes tightly, because it suddenly dawned on her—she’d hate it. Damian was being far more patient about this than she’d ever
be. She made up her mind right then and there. Replaying the entire conversation now, if the tables had been turned, it probably would’ve ended with her in tears. They wouldn’t have even gotten past his calling her another girl’s name, especially one she was already suspicious about, because she would’ve gone ape shit on him and most likely hung up.
No more. If she could just get past this one last hurdle, she’d never again behave suspiciously with Damian about anything. Because once it was over, she was telling him everything.
* * *
The whole time Damian had been at the station he’d opened and slammed drawers a little too hard. He tried to concentrate on his work so he could get the hell out of there faster, but he kept getting slammed with the same thought. It was happening again. While he was working long hours, someone else was keeping his girl company. As much as she had tried last night not to sound too disappointed and assured him she understood, the fact remained that the first thing she’d done when she got off the phone with him was call Simon. And of course the guy had come running.
He finished putting away the final piece of evidence needed to get a warrant for the arrest of the male victim’s wife, Jessica Mahoney. An email had been brought forward in which Mrs. Mahoney vented to a friend about her cheating husband. In it she said he’d confessed to the affair, and she admitted feeling so betrayed she wanted to kill them both, even described how she’d do it. It was too close to how they’d been murdered and enough to nail her, but they wanted to charge her with two counts of premeditated murder, so everything in this report had to be meticulously put together. It’d taken longer than anticipated, and he’d already had to text Bethany, letting her know he’d be a little late, but he’d assured her he’d be there. His only consolation was it appeared they had their murderer, and this case was finally over.
Nearly ready to wrap it up, Damian reread a part of the email he’d already read a few times once again.
He said we’d been drifting apart. He was lonely and she helped fill the void. That he never meant for it to become what it had but his bitch was going through the same thing in her own marriage. The more time they spent together the more their feelings grew and they fell in love. They hadn’t planned it. It was something that just happened.
Startled by a folder being dropped on his desk, Damian flinched. “There’s the rest of it, Santiago.”
Damian looked up at Murphy, one of the two original detectives who had been handling this case until it turned into this giant clusterfuck that it had. “What’s this?” He turned his attention back to the two-inch file on his desk.
“That’s my part of the Mahoney evidence,” Murphy said, pulling his sports jacket on.
“What am I supposed to do with it?”
Murphy shrugged. “Finish getting it prepped to take to the judge. Bates wants it by today. My wife went into labor last night. I came in to do as much as I could, but I just got the call.” He grinned. “It’s showtime.” He opened the top cabinet and pulled out his wallet and keys in a hurry. “I missed the first one two years ago, and I still ain’t done hearing ’bout it yet,” he said, shaking his head. “She’s warned me for nine months now if I miss this one, she’s gon’ leave my ass.”
Damian glanced back at the file, his stomach taking a dive. “There’s no one else who can finish this? I had to be somewhere at two.” Feeling the irritation begin to overwhelm him, Damian glanced at the time on the corner of his monitor: 2:48.
“Bates said he wanted you on it. Talk to him if you want. I gotta go.” Murphy rushed off before Damian could protest further.
“Fuck!” He threw his pen down on his desk and sat back in his chair, running both his hands through his hair.
Of course Bates would want him on it. He’d been so determined to prove he was good enough for this that he’d always gone above and beyond when it came to preparing evidence to present to the judge.
For a good five minutes he sat there trying to calm himself. Finally he reached over to the file and opened it. Scanning through it, he saw that Murphy had finished more than half. The rest wasn’t too complicated; he could probably get it done in an hour or so. It wouldn’t be his best work, but he didn’t give a shit at that point.
He sent Bethany the dreaded text that he’d be there in under an hour and began plowing through the file. By the time he was near the end, he realized he was doing a half-ass job; it just didn’t matter anymore. Once he passed the four o’clock hour, all he could think of was that Bethany had been waiting for him all day and how he had to fight thoughts of Bethany filling a void with Simon.
After this case was closed and in the hands of the prosecutors, he was taking some much-needed time off. He’d get everything set. Bethany said she had finally gotten the information she needed about her aunt’s mortgage. The incompetent idiots down at the bank had given her the runaround on the exact figures needed to bring the account current. Damian was certain they were buying time in the hope that they could foreclose, since her aunt owed a fraction of what the house was worth. He told her he could just pay it off, but of course she refused.
Tonight he’d tell her about getting her moved into his place and how easily he could set up her siblings, either with them at his place—he certainly had extra rooms—or at one of his other properties nearby. He needed to get this straightened out already. This would be different than it had been with Lana. This time he wasn’t going to blow it, because, unlike with Lana, there was no way in hell he thought he could get over losing Bethany.
Finally done, he rushed into Bates’s office and dropped the files on his desk. Bates began to question him, but Damian was quick to shut him up. “I gotta go. I missed an appointment at two, and they’re still waiting for me. Call me if you have any questions.”
Not that he planned on answering, but it sounded good. Rushing out of his chief’s office, he didn’t bother to call or text Bethany. The extra hour he promised her it would take him to finish had only gone over by fifteen minutes. He’d filled her phone with enough disappointing texts. The next one he wanted her to see was one that said he was right outside her door.
He jumped into his ’84 Ford Mustang. It was by far the least expensive of his collection, and he’d been hoping to talk her into keeping it. It was one of the first he’d ever restored almost all by himself, when he was just a teen, and that was the only reason he still had it. He knew she was worried about its being stolen or stripped in her neighborhood, so when he told her this one was worth less than ten grand, he hoped she’d agree.
His phone rang just as he turned onto her street. It was Bethany. He tapped his headpiece. “Hey, babe,”
“Damian,” she sounded a bit out of breath. “Amos needs me to come in and wait some tables for him because someone called in. But it’s only for a few hours.”
As enormously disappointed as he felt, he dare not complain. He’d canceled on her way too many times, and at the last minute, too. Then he had a thought. He’d at least get to be with her for a few minutes. “I can give you a ride. I’m just—”
“No! I’m already on the bus.”
He banged his steering wheel, biting his tongue so she wouldn’t hear him cuss. He’d been so damn close, damn it! If he’d only called her when he left the station he might’ve caught her, because he was only a couple of buildings away from hers.
Glancing up at the still-open window of her apartment, he wondered why she hadn’t closed it as she always did when she left. Then he saw someone close it. He sat up straight, suddenly relieved she wasn’t home. His first thought was a burglar, and he was glad he hadn’t taken his holster off yet. Looking around, he made sure he had the right window. It was hers all right.
“You said you’re already on the bus, right?”
“Yeah,” she said, sounding even more out of breath.
He was about to warn her not to go back to her apartment until he let her know it was okay when someone running out the front door of her building caught his eye. It was
Bethany. Stunned, he watched as she waited at the curb to cross. “I gotta go,” she said before stepping off the curb. “I’m at my stop. I’ll call you when I’m done. Love you!”
She didn’t even give him a chance to respond before she hung up. He watched her walk across the street to where a guy sitting on a Harley wearing a helmet handed her a helmet. She slipped it on, hopping on the bike, and wrapped her arms around his waist.
Feeling his insides light up instantly, he wondered now why he had never once bothered to ask Bethany what Simon drove. Racking his brain, he thought back to all the times she’d mentioned Simon’s giving her a ride. He didn’t remember her ever mentioning a bike, but then she’d never actually said car either.
As pissed as he suddenly felt seeing her wrapped around this guy, he wasn’t sure if he should be more worried. The huge brick in his stomach decided he was both. Had his little outburst today on the phone about Simon caused her to think it was best not to mention Simon’s picking her up? Was this what she was going to do from here on? Lie because his insecure ass couldn’t take knowing she was getting a ride from her coworker, even though it was better than taking the bus? Either way, she’d lied, and regardless of why, it pissed him off.
The heat was now peaking, as he followed them, watching as she leaned against Simon’s back. He quickly realized they weren’t even going to City Lights when they jumped on the highway, and his heart sped up. Did she get tired of waiting for Damian and decide to call Simon—spend more time with him, because being with him until midnight hadn’t been enough? Had something happened last night between them that had her needing to see him again?
A million things ran through Damian’s mind as he made sure he kept up. Glad he’d brought the Mustang today, a car she’d only seen once and probably didn’t even remember, he stayed close behind them.
They got off the highway and headed toward the strip. Not even sure if he had good reason to yet, he felt compelled to bang his steering wheel again. Only this time he did so a lot harder than he had the first time.