His Best Mistake (Shillings Agency 6)

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He dropped his hand from his nose and straightened. “Just ran into a spot of trouble last night.”

Holt leaned on the doorjamb. “Where were you?”

“A bar downtown. Some dude got drunk and was causing trouble, and I tried to help. Got caught in the crossfire.” He’d learned a long time ago, when avoiding the truth, stick as close to it as possible. Sure, they’d been ready to tell everyone about their relationship, but this wasn’t the time, or the way, to do it. “I’m fine, though. Really.”

“Okay.” He pushed his glasses into place. “We’re all heading out for lunch. Want to join?”

“No, thanks, I’m going to run home and grab my daughter’s bag. She forgot it, and I told my mother I’d bring it by, since she’s sleeping over tonight.” And to be honest, he needed to see his baby after last night. Needed to hug her. Hold her. Smell her sweet strawberry shampoo.

“Be careful what route you take. I heard there’s a big standoff with the police and some nut with a gun on Masters Street. Traffic’s parked and hasn’t moved for a half hour. There were a few cops hit.”

The news punched the wind out of Mark’s chest and replaced it with fear. Cold, white fear. He stood abruptly, shoving his chair back so hard that it hit the wall of his office and bounced off. “Daisy? Is she there?”

Holt looked at him strangely. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Without another word, he grabbed his phone and stalked out of his office, brushing past a surprised Holt. There was a long line of people at the elevator waiting to leave for their lunch break, so he opted for the stairs, passing Steven without even waving or smiling. He took the steps two at a time, trying to ignore the rising panic trying to choke him. He dialed Daisy’s number quickly, holding the phone to his ear. It rang six times and went right to voicemail. “Shit.”

Obviously, if she was in the middle of a hostile situation, she couldn’t answer her phone. Maybe she didn’t answer because she wasn’t there, but was busy handling the rest of the city while the other cops handled that situation. Or maybe she was just busy. Logically, he shouldn’t assume she was hurt, or go straight to that dark place he’d lived in after Tina died before he knew the story.

But as he glanced at his phone, and he checked the last text he sent her, he noticed she hadn’t read it, and against all reason and logic…he went there.

And he went there bad.

In his mind, Daisy lay in a pool of red, sticky blood, her red hair coated with the dark liquid, as she stared up at the clear sky unseeingly, and there was no bringing her back. She was gone, and he was alone, and he was right back in abyss he’d only just climbed out of. And in that startling, terrifying moment of loss, he realized something he’d been trying to ignore and avoid.

He loved Daisy.

He’d fallen for her.

Fallen for a fucking cop.

Like a damn fool.

And now here he was, worrying about her dying, like he’d sworn not to do. He’d ignored every single warning bell going off in his head every damn time he kissed her, and now she was going to die, like Tina, and he was going to die, too. Not physically. But the small part of his heart that was left after losing the woman he loved first would die along with the woman he loved now.

He never should have fallen for Daisy O’Rourke.

Never should have knocked on her damn door.

Cursing under his breath, he got in his truck and pulled up to the stop light. Left would take him to Daisy. Right would take him home. He gripped the turn signal, gritted his teeth, and turned left. He drove two blocks before he hit the stopped traffic Holt had warned him about. He stuck his head out the window and craned his neck, trying to see something. Anything.

Preferably a lock of shockingly red hair.

Something told him she wouldn’t be happy if she found out he was here, trying to catch a glimpse of her, but he just had to see her, know she was alive, and then he’d go.

No one would even know.

The boom of a gunshot reverberated through the warm afternoon, and he was shifting his truck into park and running toward the sound before he even fully realized he’d moved. His heart pounded harder and faster with each step, until his pulse sounded louder than the shot. He only made it a few steps before, without warning, a cop stood in front of him and lifted a gun, pointing at his chest. “Freeze!”

Mark froze, breathing heavily.

Jesus, had he really been sprinting toward an active shooter situation?

The cop cursed and walked toward him, shoving his sunglasses up in place, and Mark stiffened, because he recognized him instantly.

It was Daisy’s partner, Tim.

Of fucking course it was.