Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart, #3)(88)

Fury raced through Maxon’s being. Hatred so fierce I swore it darkened the sun.

“Did you love him?”

I blew out a strained sigh. “I did, Maxon. Differently than you, but I did. He was a friend that had grown into more. Then he let me down. He didn’t love us enough. And it breaks my heart to think that maybe I didn’t love him enough, either.”

There’d been a ghost that had always lived in the middle of us—in the perfect size of Maxon Chambers.

Standing in the way of me ever fully giving myself to Jon.

I was staring up at Maxon when I said it.

It was soft and tender.

But I thought maybe it came with an ultimatum.

His forehead dropped to mine. “You questioning whether I love you enough? There’s not enough time in eternity for me to use up the love I have for you.”





Twenty-Seven





Mack





I glanced over at my cell ringing on my desk to find Pete’s name lighting the screen. He was out hunting down monsters while my ass was stuck at a desk for four weeks.

Two down, two to go.

“What’s up?” I rocked forward and leaned my elbow on my desk, ignoring the commotion and clamor of conversations going on around me.

“Fingerprints are in,” Pete said, caution in his voice.

Figured he realized he was about to set me off.

“Yeah?” I pressed, preparing myself for the news I was about to receive while trying my best to ignore the agitation that stirred in that dark pit that writhed deep inside.

The place that reminded me whose side I was on but never let me forget where I’d come from.

His voice lowered like he wanted to keep me from the truth. “It was definitely Zachary Keeton. Seems he didn’t do a whole lot to hide it, either. Prints were all over your truck and on the brick.”

Aggression jumped into my bloodstream, seething and violent, and I ground my teeth to keep from coming out of my chair.

“Got any clue why this punk has it out for you?” he asked.

Unease rippled through my body. Something taunting at the edge of my mind but remaining out of reach. “Other than giving him that ticket? No.”

He sighed in frustration, worry weaving into the middle of it. “You think it’s because he’s found a cop to point his aggression and animosity at?”

I shrugged, but it wasn’t in acceptance. “Maybe.”

Gut told me it was more than that, though.

He hesitated, clearly not wanting to broach what it was he was getting ready to say. “Have you checked into your father?”

Hatred spun, and my jaw clenched. “Yeah. Fucker is still sitting behind bars. Where he belongs.”

Kept close tabs.

Always.

But the second Izzy had shown up in town, I’d doubled those efforts.

“Fuck, I hate this. Crime for nothing. I can’t handle this. I’m going to have to go into an early retirement before I have a heart attack at forty. Live on a deserted beach somewhere. Sipping pi?a coladas for the rest of my life.”

“I thought it was me with my ass in the hot seat, and you’re the one who’s trying to hightail it out of here?” I attempted to go light. Not wanting to give into what was pressing at me.

Fear and rage and darkness.

I wasn’t that guy. Not anymore.

Couldn’t give myself over to it.

Not with what I now stood to lose.

“Maybe I was making a suggestion. Two of us run away together.”

“Sorry, dude, but you’re not my type.”

He laughed. “Yeah, and how is that going with that sweet thing? Tell me you locked that down. Your ugly ass isn’t ever going to get another chance like that.”

I blew out a sigh, scrubbed a hand over my face. “I’m going to marry her, man.”

Silence echoed on the line, and then he muttered, “Really?” It was nothing but speculation.

Maybe he’d heard me spouting my mouth about it being selfish for a cop to settle down so many times that he didn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Told you she was my oldest friend. Also the mother of my son. She has another little boy, too.”

This time his silence was deafening.

“No shit?” he finally said.

“No shit.”

“Well, fuck. Was not expecting that. Seems we’re going to have to get us a bigger island.”

A rough chuckle rolled out before I was turning serious. “Have to nail this bastard, Pete. Can’t risk someone coming after me like that when I’ve got Izzy and her boys to worry about. Won’t take that chance.”

“Understand that completely. Believe me, there isn’t a soul in the precinct who isn’t watching, waiting to take that fucker down after what he did to you.”

“Yet, he’s managed to remain at large for two weeks.”

“We’ll nab him. We will.”

“All right. Keep me posted.”

“Will do, man. Just . . . hang tight. Watch your back. We’ll be looking out for you.”

I ended the call to find a text had come through.

Hatred and disgust curled my guts.

Clarissa: Two weeks. Aren’t you missing me? Think it’s time you come visit. I’m feeling . . . neglected.