Tiebreaker (It Takes Two 2)

The adrenaline still coursing through my veins is making me loopy and what comes out is an unladylike snort and giggle.

“Folks––” The chief’s deep voice gets our attention.

Noah lifts his face from atop my head and I suck in some much-needed air, my head spinning from an overdose of clean-scented fabric softener.

“We’ll throw him in the drunk tank for the night and get him booked. I’d appreciate it if you could come to the station tomorrow and give a statement.” Chief Brandt’s sharp gaze bounces between me and Noah. “Do I need to explain how incredibly dangerous it is to get involved in domestic abuse cases?”

Noah takes Spike out my hand while keeping his other arm around me and pressing a reassuring palm to my lower back. That hand gets all my attention. I feel safe, anchored when he touches me in a way I never have with anyone else.

“I didn’t expect Junior Deputy over here to come running out of her house armed and dangerous.” His lips curve into a wry smile.

The chief’s dark brown eyes move to where Jana sits on the front steps of Noah’s house, talking to his deputy. His expression sobers. “Tell me she has a restraining order.”

Noah nods, and a second later it all comes crashing down on me. I become acutely aware that I’m hugging her boyfriend in her moment of need. He’s here with me––while she sits alone.

Shame hits me as hard as a brick upside the head. I shove him away and his eyes cut back to me with a big question mark in them.

“See you folks tomorrow,” I hear the chief say but neither of us answer or looks his away.

I draw a shaky breath. “Your girlfriend needs you,” I mumble and swallow thickly, forcing the bitterness of longing back down. Being held by him was the worst possible reminder of what I’m missing, that there’s an empty space in my chest he used to fill.

With the absence of his body heat, the night air gets into my bones and a shiver works down my neck and back. I miss it already…miss him.

Except he’s not mine to miss. He belongs to someone else. And the feeling is a familiar one. All my life I’ve been a pound pup waiting for scraps of him, waiting patiently for my turn. Well, no more.

He looks confused. “Jana’s not my girlfriend.”

I blink. I blink some more. My mind works hard to make sense of this.

Not his girlfriend?

“Are you sure?” I hear myself say, and as dumb as I know that question sounds I still don’t know where my reasoning took a wrong turn.

He chuckles drily. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“Since when?” There’s gotta be a catch here somewhere. What did I miss?

“She’s my employee, Maren.”

“Well, yeah, but––”

“Since always.” Pointing to the squad car driving away, he adds, “That’s her boyfriend.” His eyes cloud with concern. “Was her boyfriend. Let me check on her and we’ll talk.”

“Wait!” I half-shout. “I’m coming with you.”

* * *

“I never saw it coming, you know. When we started dating…he was possessive, sure, but I never suspected…this.” Jana stifles another hiccup and I hand her a clean wad of tissues, taking the tear-soaked one out of her hand and placing it on the coffee table.

After we all went back inside, Noah opened a bottle of red wine and poured Jana and me each a glass. Without any encouragement from us, she started talking and for the first fifteen minutes Noah and I let her get everything off her chest. However, I refuse to stay quiet for a second longer if she’s going to start blaming herself.

I shift on the oversized couch to face her. “Don’t even think about blaming yourself. This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with him. I’m not about to play shrink, but I’ll venture to say he’s got issues.”

She nods. “I feel bad for him…His dad died a few months ago. He was all Hank had and––”

“Jana, he put his hands on you. He’s a big guy…I don’t care what his problems are; there’s no circumstance in the world to justify what he did,” I murmur as gently as possible. “It could easily have been worse.”

“I know. I know. You’re right.” Nodding, she wipes her ruddy nose on the balled-up tissues in her hand.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re feeling and I’m not even going to pretend––but I do know that you need to sleep. You’ll think more clearly in the morning.”

“Yeah,” she replies, wiping her face with both palms. Sighing heavily, she stands and I do the same.

Her attention moves to Noah. Sitting in an armchair, he’s been listening to us talk without offering a word. She gives him a watery smile.

“Thanks, boss.” Her attempt to sound cheerful fails.

“No need to thank me. I only want you safe.” Noah’s face looks drawn, weighed down by his concern for her. I don’t blame him. This seems far from over.