Page 57 of Shattered Love

“Yeah.” His raspy voice comes through the door. You could never mistake his sixty-a-day habit.

I push through the doors and he looks up at me. I chuck the wad on money on the table. There’s at least a couple of thousand there.

He grabs it, greedily shoving it in his top draw. He slides a piece of paper across the desk. “This seems like a man that you want to talk to.”

I grab the piece of paper in my clenched hands before walking away. I don’t say goodbye. We’re not friends. Benny is a fucking crock that has his hands in too many pies, both in the law and out of it. He’s missing a few fingers and he’ll be lucky to be alive in a few years, but that’s not my concern. As long as he keeps getting me the information, I keep making him money.

* * *

The sun comesthrough the blind and I lift my arm to shield myself from its brightness. I roll over, grasping nothing but air and my chest starts hammering with anxiety. She’s gone.

After all this time, I thought my body and mind would accept it and learn to live without its sun, but not a single fucking day have I woken up and not reached for my girl. It’s like I believe I can wake from this nightmare and she’ll be there next to me, that sleepy, sexy look in her eyes as she stretches that gorgeous body of hers, her pouty lips in a soft smile.

I hear the front door, rumbling with the impact of three knocks. Only one person is stupid enough to knock on my door.

Shrugging on the nearest pair of sweatpants, I drag a hand through my hair and open the door. I skip the fucking hellos. He knows he’s not welcome here—no one is.

His eyes widen when he notices the bruises, he won’t anything he hasn’t for years after he realized he couldn’t save me, he shakes his head.

“Someone hasn’t slept.”

I don't sleep. The most I get is an hour or two.

At first, I slept as much as I fucking could, trying to find her. Some nights she found me and I would dream of the plans we had. Other nights, she wouldhold me tight, as if she was trying to put my shattered pieces together. But waking up after dreaming of her, touching her, smelling her, it was worse, torture. Every fucking time I woke, I lost her again.

When I had the first lead, I knew she would try to stop me, so I stopped sleeping until my body was too exhausted to do anything but fall into the darkness that had consumed me.

No matter how many times I’ve told him not to come around, he still turns up every couples of months to make sure I’m still breathing.

“What do you want, Carter?”

He leans against the door frame, watching me, trying to see if any of his old partner remains.

It’s fucking hilarious that he still has hope for the man that died the same day my wife took her last breath.

“Derek has passed. His funeral is this weekend.”

I haven't heard his name in over a year when Carter first told me he had cancer. “I’m not fucking going there.” I stand to full size and my lips curl up.

Shaking his head. “He was Avery’s father. He’s been raising Juliet.”

At their names, my chest tightens to the point where I can’t breathe.

“You've wasted your time.” I slam the door shut so hard it rattles. I gasp for breath as I place my hands on my knees. Just their names and it brings me to my fucking knees. I can't go back there and see my baby girl. I can’t see the look her in eyes, knowing I’ve fucking failed her twice—saving her mother and killing the man that pulled that gun. To keep her safe, I have men watching her. I know she is safer, but she will never truly be safe until I put the man that stole our sun, our heart, our love in the ground.

I pull up into the third parking space in the second row. I see a welcome banner. “Fuck.” I forgot the new officers were starting today. My fingers clench on the wheel as I decide whether to go in or not. I grit my jaw, contemplating a second more, but the name scribbled on the piece of paper burns into me. I swing the door open, getting out. I walk through the new crowd of officersmixed with some old timers and hear my name buzzing around like a persistent swarm of insects that won't give up.

Somehow, I draw more attention to myself here than back home. That pissed me off for two reasons.

The first was that if people knew your face and your reputation, they thought they could talk to you. The second was they also thought they knew my story. They had heard the gossip. The news of Avery’s death had even reached here, a hundred miles away.

I don't speak to anyone as I head to my office. I hadn't planned on staying with the forces, but they had computers and info that saved me weeks, sometimes months, for finding the next lead. I returned around ten years ago and made detective a couple years after. Everything was part of my plan to help me find them.

I watch as the newcomers, even people I've worked with for years, shrink back from my threatening look. I’m not small at just over six feet. Even though I’m in my early forties, I still have the same power and strength of when I was twenty. People shy away the closer I get to my office, eventually not even looking at me by the time I reach the door.

I walk in, turning on my computer. As I wait for it to start, I avert my eyes to the window.

I can't help thinking about Derek. He was a good man. He had hated my guts at first, even asked Avery to pick between us, but he was just looking out for his daughter. As much as I had wanted to hate him for hurting my girl, I understood his actions. He thought he was losing his beautiful daughter and wanted to hang on to her, just like me. He wouldn't ever have been ready to let her go.

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