Bullets & Bonfires

Instead of sleeping or doing whatever he does during the day before he starts the afternoon shift, he’s offering to drive me all over Empire County so I don’t have to be alone. Even so, I can’t take the overbearing is that what you’re wearing attitude from anyone ever again. Not even Liam.

“Well, I’m not changing. It’s supposed to be like ninety-five degrees today. If some degenerate cops can’t behave themselves in the presence of a girl in a dress, that’s their problem, not mine.”

“You’re right. Come on, let’s go.”

I follow him outside to his truck, where he opens my door. The bright sun stabs me in the eyes and I paw through my purse looking for my sunglasses.

Liam’s rough fingers brush my cheek. “Your face?”

I force out a laugh that borders on deranged. “Nothing but the best corrective camouflage concealer. Bought a whole goddamn palette,” I grumble. I hate wearing makeup. Especially heavy makeup when it’s so damn hot. I’m self-conscious about looking like a clown. Having Liam stare at me isn’t helping.

“That’s what took you so long?”

I lift my chin and meet his concerned gaze. “Yes.”

“Bree.” He reaches out and takes my hand. “What he did to you. That’s his shame, not yours.”

My mouth opens but no words come out. He leans down and kisses my forehead, then opens the truck door wide, offering me a hand for support.

No matter how much I try to joke with Bree or get her to talk to me, she’s quiet until we leave the town limits.

“How big of an area do you patrol?” she asks.

“Base is in Clarktown, runs up to the Slater County border and down to the Empire City limit, but I can be sent anywhere in the county depending on what the department needs that day. Why? You want to apply for a job?” I toss her a cocky grin. “The academy is rough, but I think you can handle it.”

She finally laughs. “No, I’m still set on Psychology.”

“No one likes the headshrinker, Bree.”

“Yeah, I imagine all you macho-tough-guys have a rough time getting in touch with your feelings.”

That hits close to home and I snap my mouth shut.

After a few minutes I ask, “Where do you have to go after we pick up the report?”

She pulls her purse into her lap and digs through it until she finds a yellow slip of paper. “I’m meeting with Magdalene McKay in the Special Victims Unit.”

“I know Maggie. She’s good.”

“How do you know her?” Bree asks in an even voice. I glance over quickly, but can’t read her expression.

“From different cases I’ve worked on.”

“Oh. Yeah. Duh.” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her shaking her head.

It takes a few minutes to find a parking spot in front of the station. “You can drop me off and I’ll just run in,” Bree says the second time we circle the block.

Not happening. “We’re good,” I say, slipping into a spot designated for county workers. I toss a card on the dashboard and hustle to open her door.

“I’m fine,” she says, brushing off my attempt to help her out of the truck. She runs her hands over her dress, fluffing the skirt a few times and I realize she’s nervous. “My hem isn’t tucked up in my underwear or anything, is it?” she asks.

The question forces me to look at her perfectly curved backside. “You’re covered,” I mumble.

“Why are you so cranky?”

“I’m not. Let’s get this over with.”

My hand fits perfectly into the small of her back as I guide her into the station. The quick smile she flashes when I open the door rocks me, but somehow I keep my cool. We’re not on a date for fuck’s sake.

“Hollister! How’ve you been?”

“Hey, Howard.” I take his outstretched hand. “I’m good. You still with corrections?”

He pulls a face that most C.O.s make. “Puttin’ in my twenty-five. Headin’ back there now.” His gaze strays to Bree and he raises an eyebrow.

My arm tightens around her waist. “This is my friend Bree.”

She stretches out her hand which he takes—briefly—after checking out the look on my face.

“Will you be here for a minute?” I ask.

“Sure.”

I lead Bree upstairs to the window where she needs to pick up the police report and an additional incident report. “Hi, Patty, can you take care of my friend? She’s picking up a DRI and—”

“I have the incident number,” Bree says, cutting me off and handing over the information.

Confident she has it handled, I walk back downstairs to chat with my buddy Howard.

I’m a mess of contradictions. Having Liam with me today makes my situation seem too real. Even so, I miss his strength when he runs downstairs.

The woman at the counter is efficient and hands over what I need quickly. Since there’s only one staircase, I figure I can’t miss Liam, and head down to meet him as soon as I’m finished.

We nearly collide at the bottom of the staircase. “Sorry,” he says, gently gripping my arm to steady me. “I was coming right back.”

“I wanted to meet you.”

He flashes a tight smile and takes my hand. “Get everything you needed?”

“Yup. They were nice and helpful.”

“Good,” he says, absently holding open the front door.

“It wasn’t as awful as I expected,” I confess as soon as we’re back in Liam’s truck.

“Were you worried?”

“A little.”

“I’m sorry I left you.”

I reach over and settle my hand on his leg. “Liam, it’s fine. Really.”

He seems to accept that and gives my hand a quick squeeze.

When we reach the District Attorney’s office, he walks me inside there too. I appreciate his company more than I’ve been able to express today. We’re sitting waiting for the attorney when I bump him with my shoulder, drawing his attention to me. “Thank you for everything.”

“No problem, sweetness.” His gaze flicks to the cubicle farm in front of us and the closed office doors along the outer wall. “Maggie’s not going to allow me in there while she’s interviewing you. Will you be all right if I run a few errands? I won’t be gone more than an hour. Your interview will probably take that long.”

“Sure. No problem.”

“If I’m not back in time, wait here. I’ll come upstairs to get you, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you.” I curl my fingers around his and he gives me a gentle squeeze.

“Brianna Avery?”

I shoot up out of my chair so fast, I almost stumble in the high-heeled sandals I’m not used to wearing.

“Hi. I’m Brianna.”

“Hi, Miss Avery.” The woman can best be described as short and severe. From her no-nonsense brunette bob to her low-heeled comfort flats, she radiates professionalism and confidence. “I’m Assistant District Attorney, Magdalene McKay.”

“Thank you for meeting with me today.”

She nods as if to say it’s no big deal, just part of her job. Her gaze lands on Liam and she scowls. “You’re not assigned to her case, Deputy Hollister.”

“Bree’s a personal friend. I’m escorting her around today.”

The attorney cocks her head and studies him for a minute. I like her already.

An hour of questions later, I’m not so sure I like Maggie—as she insisted I call her—as much as I thought I would. She gave me time to tell her my story without interruption—up to a point. When I wandered off-topic, she gently guided me back. When I had trouble remembering details that I’ve blocked, she picked out a certain element and asked me to expand on it until I was flooded with memories.