Page 198 of Forever Never
“It can’t come to that. We have to get him at home,” he said.
“I know. Tell you what, you write the report while I see if I can get someone in Chicago and in the FEC to answer the phone.”
His hands bunched to fists at his sides. Real danger lurked
“Just remember, Brick,” Darlene said, eyeing him. “We’re the good guys.”
He couldn’t say he’d stay on that side of the law. Not if Remi’s life was hanging in the balance. The rules no longer applied, and for the first time in his life, he felt the siren’s call of the gray area between right and wrong.
49
Remi waited until the occupants of the house were occupied in a spirited argument about the best way to prepare and enjoy eggs before slipping out the front door. It was April, and while yesterday had impressed with a balmy forty-nine degrees, it was spitting a little freezing rain that morning.
Brick hadn’t come home last night. She’d spent the night alone in his big bed after staying up late talking to Camille. They’d glossed over what was happening today and pretended to ignore the next steps that needed to be discussed.
Instead, they’d painted their toenails and talked about movies, men, and art.
But in the light of day, Remi couldn’t ignore the tension that was building in her chest. She knew as well as anyone that Warren would see a gauntlet when Camille’s attorney filed for divorce and asked for a protection order. Brick had already antagonized him with the photos of the two of them together. It would only drive Warren’s need to save face by any means possible. And that meant danger to everyone she cared about.
The only upside was that with the reports made public, with an active police investigation, the whole world would be watching. And when he came after Camille, they’d be ready.
It wasn’t good enough, she thought, pulling up her hood and hurrying toward downtown.
There were a few fudgies out today, braving the weather, buying their souvenirs, and downing hot chocolate on the run.
But overall, it was quiet. Strangers on the street made her look twice, each man looking more and more like Warren as the cold rain blurred her vision. She needed to talk to Brick. Needed to know what came next and how she could help.
Hell, she needed to see him. To touch him. To reassure herself that he was real and solid and there for her.
* * *
“William Eugene Callan the Third.”
Remi hid her smile when Brick’s size fourteen boots unceremoniously hit the station floor a split second after what looked like the dredges of cold coffee.
He’d been kicked back in his chair, feet on his desk. It would have been the picture of relaxed if it hadn’t been for the fact that the man had the heels of his hands jammed into both eyes.
Those blue eyes were more red this morning. His hair stood up in funny tufts as if his hands had spent the night wrestling with it. His uniform shirt was wrinkled.
“Remi,” he rasped.
She loved him so fiercely in that moment it took her breath away. “You forgot something last night.”
“I did?” he looked dazed, exhausted. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hang on tight.
“You forgot to come home.”
He reached for her, and she walked into his strong arms and buried her face against his chest. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, and for a moment, the whole world felt right again.
“Remington, when this is over, I’m going to have a sizable question to ask you,” he rumbled.
Her heart tapped out an emergency SOS.
She pulled back to look up at his handsome face. “What kind of question?”
He rubbed his thumb over the pads of her palms. “A big one.”
Her heart skittered and then restarted. Visions of rings and Brick down on one knee danced in her head. For some reason, she didn’t feel terrified. “You could always ask it now,” she suggested innocently. “Distract us from the mess we’ve got going on here.”
