Fit to be Tied (Marshals 2)

“What’s your point?” I asked, frustrated, feeling my anger rise, hating that Hartley, even though nowhere near me, was still the one in control. Because of him I was stuck feeling like shit and having to talk to a shrink.

“My point is that maybe your guilt is not from how Wojno died, but that he was in the position to report to Hartley to begin with only because initially you found him attractive.”

Since I couldn’t deny it, I kept my mouth shut. The truth was, if I hadn’t fucked Wojno the first time, he might still be alive.

Maybe.

I couldn’t say for certain what would have happened to Wojno. He’d made a mistake and Hartley knew about it, and between the time Hartley found out and the time when Wojno turned me over to him, he’d become an FBI agent. It was naïve to think that Hartley wouldn’t have collected his pound of flesh at some point.

As I’d run the last time I’d spoken to him back through my brain over and over, I was at a loss to figure out what I could have done differently.

“Marshal?”

“Okay,” I conceded, so tired of all of it, the second-guessing myself, trying to figure out whether if I’d been able to connect emotionally with Wojno, things would have gone differently.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, I feel guilty, alert the media. What the hell am I supposed to do about that?”

He seemed confused. “You stop it.”

“Just stop it?” I was incredulous. “This is your sage advice?”

He chuckled. “There is absolutely nothing you could have done to save Agent Wojno. He had to save himself. You were the one cut open, beaten, knifed, and hung up like a slab of meat. You were brutalized, marshal, and it’s a wonder you made it out alive. You are in no way responsible for anyone but yourself.”

I crossed my arms because I was shaking and I didn’t want him to see. “Yeah, but what if, right?”

“How do you mean?”

“If I could have been a bit more convincing, maybe I could have gotten him out too,” I whispered, the floor I was staring at beginning to blur. When the tears welled up seconds later, I tried to rub them away fast. Goddamn Wojno, I had no idea why I even cared, other than he absolutely did not deserve to be dead. Rotting in jail, yes, but not dead.

“It’s important to you.”

“What?” I’d lost track of the conversation, as lost as I was in my own thoughts.

“It’s important to you to have saved him.”

“Well, of course.”

“To do what?”

“I’m sorry?”

“He would have spent the rest of his life in prison.”

“But he would have been alive.”

“And would that have suited him? Prison?”

“I don’t know.” I huffed out a breath, letting myself fall back in my chair, crossing my arms as I regarded the doctor. “Again, I think the alive part is key.”

He put down his pen and apparently made himself comfortable as well, hands behind his head, legs stretched out in front of him. “You need to stop blaming yourself for something completely out of your control.”

“I’ll get right on that.”

He was back to scrutinizing me. “May I say that your partner, as well as the rest of your team, all think very highly of you, marshal?”

“Oh yeah? Even my boss?”

He was silent.

I laughed at him. “Yeah, see, I knew it.”

“He’s very guarded.”

“Yeah, maybe you should go head shrink him.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“You scared?” I baited him.

“Perhaps a bit.”

I stood up. “You’re clearing me for continued service, right?”

His sigh was deep. “I am, yes.”

“Thanks,” I said, heading for the door.

“You’re a very lucky man, marshal. Don’t waste your life mired in second-guessing yourself.”

“How’re you supposed to learn anything, then?”

I didn’t wait for his answer. I left before he changed his mind about me.

I STOPPED at Windy City Meats on the way home after seeing the shrink and was amazed at the cost on the beef tenderloin my regular butcher, Eddie, passed me over the counter.

“Holy crap, are you kidding?”

He shrugged. “It’s some of the best, Jones. Whaddya want me to say?”

“Is it unicorn? Is that why it costs so much?”

The little girl standing close to me gasped, and if looks could kill, her mother’s would have stopped my heart right there.

“Oh, I—”

“Nice, Jones,” Eddie groaned, shaking his head. “You want the hot Italian sausage or the regular?”

I glared at him.

“Fine, hot it is. Howzabout the prime bone-in ribeye?”

“Yeah, gimme two.”

He snickered as he turned away. “Keep your mouth shut while I’m gone.”

I would have flipped him off, but I was still close to the little girl and really didn’t want to do any more to piss off her mother.

Once I was done at the butcher, I went to the farmers’ market and picked up produce before heading home. After checking in with the cops sitting on my house, I hobbled inside and unloaded everything. Because it was hard for me to walk Chickie with my ankle, Ian had dropped him off with Aruna that morning and had plans to grab him on the way home from his stakeout assignment. I was putting away groceries when he called.