Page 49 of Tequila Tuesdays

I watched through a haze of tears and pain as Jaime studied Damien, then finally nodded. “Yeah, man. Whatever she needs.”

Everything seemed to be hazy, and I couldn’t process what people were saying. I was probably going into shock.

Johanna, one of the women from Damien’s team, stepped up and wordlessly handed Tiana and me a wad of tissues. Jaime put his arm around Tiana and walked her over to a nearby bench.

“Thank you, Johanna,” I whispered. She seemed startled I knew her name. My face crumpled again, and more tears escaped. I turned into Damien’s arms and buried my face in his neck.

“Come on, sweetheart. I’m taking you home with me.” He turned me toward his truck, and I followed him blindly, feeling numb with shock and grief. Frankie had been different. She’d been innocent and kind, and she’d gotten under my skin and through my defenses.

Damien unlocked his truck and helped me into the passenger seat. Zeke followed us over and squatted down next to me. “I’m sorry as hell, Harley. She seemed like a good person.”

“Thanks, Zeke. She was.”

“I have your bag and your water bottle here. If you trust me, I’ll drive your Sequoia home and Jaime will bring me back here to pick up my truck.”

I nodded and looked at my bag for a second. My brain was sluggish, but I focused and slowly dug inside to find my keys.

“Thank you. Will you check on Gary while you’re there? I’m sure he’s fine…” I didn’t finish.

Damien spoke up. “She’s got a security system you’ll need to disarm. I’ll text you the code.”

Zeke looked at Damien. “Did you install it?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Zeke stood up. “I’ll talk to you later. Hang in there, honey.”

When Damien got in, he turned to me. “I’m taking you to my place, Legs.”

I nodded and turned my head away to stare out the passenger window as tears slowly leaked out. I watched the landscape go by and thought about Frankie. Damien finally reached over and squeezed my hand. I squeezed his back, then held on tight the rest of the way.

When we pulled up, I saw a white mid-century ranch house with a small accessory rental tucked to the side. I didn’t take in many details beyond that.

Damien came around and opened the truck door for me. I slid out and he reached in and grabbed my bag, then led me into the house. He set my bag down in his living room and gathered me in his arms. I cried for a few more minutes, then pulled away and looked up at him.

“Thank you for taking care of me. You don’t need to babysit me though, I’m sure you have things to do. I’ll be all right, it just hit me hard.”

“I want to, sweetheart.”

Looking down at his jersey, I noticed the wet spots on it from crying on him. “Frankie was technically just my drug court client and teammate. But…” I swallowed.

“I know. You spiked a ball in my face when I insulted her last season, remember?”

Smiling a little through my tears, I nodded. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Let’s go outside to the backyard. It’s not as homey as yours, but it’s a nice spot.”

“Okay.”

We walked outside, and he led me over to an outdoor sofa and moved some pillows. He pulled me down next to him, and I curled my legs up then leaned against his shoulder. The sofa rocked, and Damien slowly pushed it back and forth when we’d settled.

“Talk to me,” he said after a few minutes. “Tell me about Frankie and your other teammates. And why you do public defense and drug court work.”

So I did. I told him about Frankie and how she seemed to be progressing in her treatment and recovery—until she wasn’t. How kind and soft-hearted she was, and how everyone seemed to love her. I told him about the constant highs and lows of drug court.

Then Damien talked about his time on the police force and why he’d decided to quit and go into private practice.

He shook his head. “It was frustrating. I did it for seven years and made detective while I was there, but I was already burned out. Then I got pushed over the edge. I had a girlfriend until just before I quit too.”

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