Easton fired. Four shots, deafening in the tiny space. He couldn’t have missed if he had tried.
The red bloomed thick across Seed’s chest as he toppled to the ground.
Easton stood over Seed, but he wasn’t moving. His eyes stared, seeing nothing.
“Martin,” Easton said.
He pulled his phone out and made the 9-1-1 call. Backup arrived within minutes.
Martin was gone before he reached the hospital.
I watched him for a few minutes after he finished the story, letting his words sink deep into my skin. He finished off the beer, stood up, and got another one.
“That’s it,” he said. “Now you know everything.”
“Easton,” I said softly.
“Do you understand what it means?”
I nodded. “You took the blame.”
He didn’t say anything, just opened the beer and sat back down.
“But why?” I pressed. “Your whole career was ruined because of it. Wasn’t that your dream job?”
He nodded. “It was like a dream, yeah. And when Seed’s knife sank into Martin’s skin, I woke the fuck up real fast.”
“You didn’t need to take the blame.”
“Martin was a good man,” Easton said. “He had a family. He was respected. But he was dead. At least I could maybe try to come back, try to fix my name. Martin never could. He would forever be known as the agent that got himself killed by breaking protocol and rushing after a known killer.”
I was totally shocked. I couldn’t believe what Easton was willing to sacrifice for that man. Martin had almost gotten them both killed, and yet Easton had destroyed his whole career and his reputation for him.
“But why the badge?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he said, frustrated and angry. “I really don’t.”
Easton hadn’t rushed in. He hadn’t gotten Martin killed. In fact, he had tried to save his life but had failed. All this time he had lived with that fact while the world saw him as an impulsive and reckless failure that had gotten a man killed.
I couldn’t even begin to imagine the sheer weight of that lie. I understood why he had done it, but it was just so big.
I reached out and took his hand. “How have you been dealing with it?”
He smirked. “You saw my office. Not well.”
I shook my head, amazed. “You need to tell someone.”
“No,” he said forcefully. “And you can’t either.”
“But why? You can clear your name.”
“No,” he repeated, moving his hand. “If you tell anyone, then everything I’ve gone through will have been for nothing.”
I gaped at him. “Easton, come on.”
“Listen to me. We will use this information together, but it goes no further than this table.”
“Okay,” I said softly.
“Swear.”
“I swear. I won’t tell anyone.”
He relaxed slightly. “I don’t know how useful that information is anyway.”
“It has to be important,” I said. “Martin’s badge wouldn’t have been left here for no reason. Everything that happened with you, Martin, and Seed is important.”
Easton stared at me. “So what do you think?”
I stood up and walked around the table, taking his face in my hands. “I don’t know. But you’re fucking crazy.”
He grinned. “Yeah. I know.”
I kissed him then, deep and hard. He pulled me down into his lap, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed me back.
It turned frenzied, hungry. I felt his hands roam my body, and after a second he stood, carrying me up toward his room.
22
Easton
I felt unburdened.
Like a fucking weight had been lifted off my chest.
That secret, that lie, had been weighing me down ever since that day over a year ago. I hadn’t told a single soul about the truth, but telling Laney was the right thing to do. Just finally telling the true story out loud made me feel incredibly light.
And it helped that it was Laney who heard it. I kissed her rough and hard as I pressed her down onto my bed, practically tearing off her clothes.
I wanted her more than I ever had before. I wanted to fuck her deep, slowly, and rough, wanted to make her moan my name again and again. I pulled off her shirt and unhooked her bra, kissing her neck and pressing her breasts together.
“Fuck, Laney,” I whispered in her ear. “You make me fucking crazy.”
“Same to you,” she said back, laughing.
“I know that already.” I slipped my hand down between her legs, pressing my fingers against her pussy. “I can feel it every time.”
I unbuttoned her pants and pressed my hand down beneath her panties, needing to feel her clit, to touch her soaked skin. Her pussy was wet as always, soaked and ready for me, and that only drove me wilder. I began to rub her clit gently, and she writhed and moaned under my touch.