“It’s all right. I’ll catch you later.” He ducked through the back door and exited toward the side gate where our yards connected.
AJ tossed the empty beer bottles in the recycling bin. They clanged when they landed at the bottom.
“What happened?” I asked. “Why are you home so late?”
“It’s a case. I couldn’t leave.”
“I figured it was a case. Did something go wrong? Is everything all right?”
He shook his head. I could see the little creases around his eyes that appeared when he was worried. “You know I can’t really talk about it.”
I sashayed toward him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I want to help. I won’t say anything.” I pressed my body into his.
He sighed. “I know.” He kissed the top of my head, but broke out of the hold. “I’m going to take a shower. I have a 6am meeting.”
“Oh. Ok.” He left me standing in the kitchen. “I’ll just lock up down here,” I called after him.
But AJ was already climbing the stairs. He didn’t look back. He didn’t stop. He didn’t answer. It was like he was in another place. Still at work. Still zoned in to his case. I didn’t know how to pull him back to me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Huddled next to AJ in the bottom of the plane to nowhere, I thought about that weird TV night with Travis. I had no idea why it popped in my head. I think it was the night that the beginning of our end started. Was today some sick way of giving us another chance to rewrite the ending? Given the choice, I’d still take this. It was twisted and dark, but saying the things to AJ that had been buried for five years meant everything to me.
I could still remember how it felt that night when he walked up the stairs without me. How by the time I got to our room, he was already out of the shower and in bed.
That was the night I felt for the first time AJ was hiding something from me. Not the usual work stuff, but something big. Something monumental. And underneath it, I knew I had committed an unthinkable crime in his world. I
had breached an unforgivable trust, and I had used poor nerdy Billy to do it..
How did we thread it back together? How did we get past all the hurt and the lies? Could we?
“AJ?”
“Hmm?” He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. I knew his head hurt. It had to with that wide of a gash.
“What happened with the device?” I asked.
“What?” he groaned.
“The scrambler,” I answered. “Was it a dead end?”
His eyes popped open. “I was interrupted. I checked most of the baggage, but I didn’t make it to the crates or that section of the bay before you ended up down here.”
“Wait. So there’s still a chance we could find it?” I pressed.
“We could except we can’t move. Look at your ankles. You’re bleeding. If you slice an artery it could get bad really fast.”
I shook off his protest. “I don’t care. We need to get up. We’ve got to keep searching.”
I heard him groan when he shifted. “Did they break your ribs?” I asked.
He nodded. “There’s a good chance.”
“Damn it. Why didn’t you say something?”
He grinned. His eyes closed again. “Did you have an X-ray machine down here?” he mocked. “We can’t do shit about it.”
“You rest and I’ll search for the box.” I wasn’t sure how to do it with ankles and wrists pinned together, and knife-like sensations that seared my skin every time I moved, but I wanted him to leave with me. I wanted to rewrite TV night.