For You (The 'Burg #1)(26)
My head was still tilted back and Colt was still blurry and even imprisoned I was still hysterical. “He means to harm you!”
“Do you have someone here who’s qualified to sedate her?” Agent Warren asked and I tried to turn, tear out of Colt’s arms to confront my new nemesis but Colt held me fast so just my neck twisted.
“I can’t help if I’m sedated!” I shrieked.
“February, you need to calm down,” Colt said firmly.
My head twisted back and I looked at him still sightless and weeping. “I killed your dog.”
“You didn’t have a thing to do with Puck dying.”
“I killed your dog.”
“She’s hysterical,” someone muttered.
My neck twisted toward the direction of the sound and I screamed blindly, “You would be too if you killed someone’s dog!”
Colt’s arms got so tight, my breath was forced out of my lungs and I heard him whisper the words, “Baby, stop it. You didn’t kill my dog.”
Baby, stop it.
Baby, stop it.
Baby, stop it.
The soft words bounced in my head, round and round, taking all my concentration. So much, I didn’t have enough to remain standing and I gave Colt my weight, dropped my head and rested it on my hands which were trapped against his chest.
Baby, stop it, you don’t know what you’re saying.
He’d said that years ago when I broke up with him.
Baby, stop it, you know the way it is between you and me.
He’d said that years ago too, when I told him he should act like a free agent when he went to Purdue and if he came back to me then we’d know it was meant to be. He’d refused. He’d said he didn’t want to be a free agent. He didn’t want anyone, not anyone, but me.
Baby, stop it, Morrie gets it, your parents do too.
He’d said that years and years and years ago, after the first time he kissed me and I’d freaked out because I’d wanted that kiss so badly, and it was everything I’d wanted it to be, and it promised everything I needed it to promise, but I’d worried Morrie, Mom and Dad would get mad.
“I want him to be watching now,” I said to my hands, the tears still coming but they were no longer loud and neither was my voice. My words, like his, were meant only for Colt. “I want him to see what he’s doing to me.”
Colt’s arms got tight again. “He won’t care, Feb, after all these years something started him on this path and he can’t go back now. But you’ve got to be stronger than this, you’ve got to help Sully and the FBI and you’ve got to stand strong to the end.” One of his arms came from around me and his hand went to the back of my neck, giving me a squeeze there and I tilted my head back to look at him, was able to get focused on him but still only blinking through tears. “And there’ll be an end, I promise, February, and it won’t end with the end of me. It will end with the end of what he’s doing.”
I nodded, not because I believed, I was too scared to believe. I nodded because it was clear he believed.
“I’m sorry about Puck,” I whispered and I knew it sounded stupid and like I hadn’t gotten myself together but his hand at my neck gave me another squeeze.
“I know you are. I am too.”
Colt knew it wasn’t stupid, he knew I was just saying I was sorry as anyone would and as I hadn’t at the time Puck died because I was avoiding him.
“This is over, you should get another dog,” I advised.
His mouth moved, I didn’t understand how but it wasn’t anger. It was something else, something attractive, almost mesmerizing.
“I’ll consider it.”
I looked from his mouth direct into his eyes. “Good.”
“Ms. Owens, if we can continue,” Agent Warren said from behind me and Colt looked there before his gaze came back to me.
“You good?” Colt asked me.
No, I was not good. Any good left to me was stuck back in memories of the Glory Days or, sometimes, when Morrie would make me laugh or seeing how great his kids were turning out to be or biting into one of Meems’s muffins or seeing her look at Al, even after all these years and four kids, like she wanted to rip his clothes off or watching Jessie’s face get soft when Jimbo did something goofy like it was anything but goofy to Jessie.
For me, I’d lived my life for awhile off other people being good.
But for the first time in a long time I was sick of living in a fog most of the time and sick of feeling shit the rest of it and I wanted good back too, but I wanted it for me.
“I’m good,” I lied.
His hand and arm went away, I stood on my own two feet and I was concentrating so much on doing that, I didn’t move away directly. I just tested my steadiness for awhile before I tipped my head back, looked Colt in the eye, took a breath and then walked back to the conference room.
Someone got me a fresh coffee and everyone resumed their places.
“Now perhaps, Ms. Owens, in light of this new evidence,” Agent Nowakowski carefully placed the daisy bag on the table, his voice was gentle but probing, “we should go back over your relationship with Lieutenant Colton.”
His eyes were on me and he was examining me like Colt did yesterday and I figured, considering he did what he did for a living, there was a lot he could see.