Page 51 of Chasing Forever

As though Doc heard him and wanted to make his displeasure at the name calling known, he barked again, this time tacking a small, pathetic growl onto the end.

“He probably just needs to go out,” I said on a giggle.

Tristan lifted his head and shot him a glare. “You have a doggie door, for Christ’s sake. Why won’t you ever use it?”

“For the same reason he feels he should be carted around all day instead of walking,” I answered drolly, shooting him an accusatory expression. “Because you’ve spoiled him rotten.”

He didn’t have a rebuttal for that. He knew I was right. Doc barked again, as if to agree with me.

Tristan pushed up with a groan, sitting up and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “Fine,” he grumbled, making his way over to the dresser and pulling out a pair of navy boxer briefs since the clothes we’d stripped off earlier were still in a pile in the garage.

Without him curled up in the bed with me, I had no desire to stay there, so I got up as well, throwing on another one of his T-shirts and padding down the hall after him. As he let Doc out, I caught sight of the files and documents he’d been working on earlier. They were strewn across the table like he’d gotten frustrated at something and shoved them away. Instinct had me moving in that direction, my fingers itching to reorganize and straighten up. A hazard of my current job I’d started bringing home with me lately, I guess.

I picked up a couple papers and tapped the edges against the table to stack them together neatly, then put them aside. I flipped the top of a folder closed and spotted a photo underneath.

Picking it up, I flipped it around to face Tristan and asked, “Why do you have a picture of Walter Reeves?”

Tristan’s eyes bounced from the man in the printed-out driver’s license photo to me. “He was one of the overdose vics in the same drug case your brother’s wrapped up in.”

I knew about that case. He’d come home grumpy and frustrated more than once because they weren’t getting anywhere.

His brows pulled together. “You know him?”

“Not personally. He was part of Warren’s inner circle so I saw him around, occasionally talked to him, but that’s it. I never really liked him,” I admitted. “He was creepy and chauvinistic, as were all those other guys he’s friends with.”

Something shifted over Tristan’s expression, and he started riffling through the documents. He pulled out five more photographs and put them in a line on the table. “Do you recognize any of these people?”

I frowned up at Tristan. “These are all the people who overdosed?”

He nodded gravely, and I knew by the look on his face that this case was still bothering him. I studied the photographs and pointed at one on the far left. “This guy looks familiar.” I sifted through my mind, trying to recall where I knew him from. “I think it was at a charity banquet Warren took me to. I was coming back from the bathroom and saw them over in a corner by the bar. It looked like they were arguing about something.”

“You don’t know what?”

I shook my head. “Warren never really shared much about his work with me. I asked, but he told me it wasn’t any of my business, and I wouldn’t be able to understand if he tried to explain it to me.”

Tristan let loose a string of curses, calling Warren some incredibly colorful names. “If I ever get the chance to beat that asshole senseless, I won’t hesitate.”

There was one other face I recognized. He was a guy Warren had gone to college with. Like all of his other friends, I didn’t know him well, but I recalled Warren coming home in a bad mood because some kind of business deal between them had fallen through. He was so pissed he’d thrown his dinner plate against the wall and backhanded me across the face. But I didn’t share that part of the story with Tristan. He was finally getting over the scene from the day before, and I didn’t want him to backslide, not after the perfect afternoon we’d shared.

He studied the documents and photos on the table like he was staring at everything with a fresh set of eyes.

“Did I help with something?” I asked, an ember of hope sparking to life in my gut.

He lifted his gaze to mine and smiled. “You might have, baby. I’ll have to look into some things when I go back to work tomorrow, but I think you might have pointed me in a new direction.”

I beamed, bouncing in place. “Glad I could help,” I chirped.

Tristan wound an arm around my waist and pulled me flush against him. “I’m glad too.” He leaned in and nuzzled my neck, spreading goosebumps across my skin. “But I’m done talking about work. There are much more tantalizing ways I want to spend the next couple hours before we have to pick Levi up from school.”

With an excited squeal, I broke free from his hold and took off for the bedroom, anticipation heating my blood and core as his footsteps chased after me.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Merritt

“Some days I want to reach down his throat and rip out his spine with my bare hands.”

My hand froze midair, the French fry I’d been bringing to my mouth forgotten at Lennix’s passionate—and disturbing—declaration.

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