The Better Part of Darkness

He’d never been able to see my point. “But the crafting, Will … that was even worse than what happened with that woman. You knew how I felt about it. You knew Connor …”

Some of the urgency in his expression softened. “I know, Charlie, I know.” He stepped back and stared at the wreath on Bryn’s door before turning back to me. “I thought I could use the crafting to help get the business off the ground, that I could control how much I did and stay away from the really bad stuff. I guess … I don’t know … You trust me with Emma and you wouldn’t if you thought for one second I was crafting again. This isn’t about trust anymore, Charlie. This is about forgiveness, getting over the betrayal and the pain …”

The truth was like a knife to the softest part of the belly.

Fine. So what? I was hurt, and I wasn’t ready to let go and forgive him. Maybe he did see now the magnitude of what he’d done. But what did he expect; me to go running back because now he got it? Now he was ready?

He made a move closer, went to reach out, but changed his mind. Instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “We’d have to work at it, rebuild things together.”

Yeah, and hindsight is a bitch.

“Charlie,” he breathed on a heavy sigh.

Part of me didn’t want to disappoint him. Part of me wanted to make things work. His eyes held so much suffering and loneliness. And hope. How could I keep him apart from the family he wanted so badly? My chest ached, but I drew on every ounce of strength and conviction I had. My voice wavered. “I’m not ready. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be.”

A rigid curtain fell over his features. He nodded and squared his shoulders. “I can wait.” He pierced me with one last, hard look to tell me he meant it. Then, he opened Bryn’s door and went inside.

I slumped against the wall. Why now? I wanted to scream. Why the hell now? Why did he wait until after he ripped out my heart and destroyed everything before finally coming clean? Why wasn’t I worth it to never take the risk in the first place? Why wasn’t our marriage and our family worth it? Yeah, I knew all about the addiction side of things, but this was a question that never stopped cycling through my head in the last eight months. And I knew it was a question I’d never get a satisfactory answer to, no matter how many therapists said Will’s addiction had nothing to do with me.

A tornado of emotions whirled inside of me. It was too much, and I didn’t have the luxury of time to deal with it right now. With a deep breath and practiced ease, I centered myself and then shoved any thoughts of Will and my feelings aside, but the ache was still there like a thorn stuck under my rib cage.

Just add it to all the other aches and regrets.

Quickly, I wiped at my eyes, took a few more seconds to fan my face, and then I went inside to eat, shower, and change. Bryn wanted to do a little research on the Bleeding Soul legend and disappeared into her bedroom with her laptop. Once I was cleaned up, I told Emma and Will that I’d be back after dinner.

I had a meeting to attend.

After a quick call to Hank to coordinate the meeting at Mott Tech, I declined Will’s offer to drive me back to the Mustang, which was still parked near Centennial Park. I wanted some time to myself, so I borrowed two bucks from my daughter for the dollar-seventy-five fare to use the MARTA. I could have driven with Hank, but I’d had enough of emotional men for one day.

Bryn had lent me a black T-shirt, which was rather tight across the chest, but soft and stretchy. Her jeans fit me pretty well, hanging a little lower on the hips than I was used to, but, all in all, I felt normal again. She’d also lent me a jacket to wear to hide my shoulder holsters and sidearm. As an added precaution, I’d taken a glamour spell to change my hair color and eyes, but it’d wear off by the time I got to the security gate at Mott Tech.

My ankle had healed, just a few achy twinges here and there as I exited the MARTA station and walked the short distance to the Green Lot on Marietta Street where I’d parked the car.

The chief deserved a big old kiss for setting me up with his nephew’s car. It sat exactly where I’d parked it, shiny and red and totally badass. A smile spread across my face as I strolled to the car, my spirits lifting.

The engine rumbled to life like a growling beast ready to hunt. I shoved it in first and then released the clutch until it caught, giving it gas and surging into traffic. I loved stick shifts, especially the control I had over this V-8, three-hundred-horsepower monster.

Once on I-85, I cranked the stereo. Soul Asylum’s “Runaway Train” blared from the speakers. I sang along in my head, humored by the irony of those lyrics, since they were pretty much how I felt these days, and remembering when Connor and I would blast this song in his room and sing at the top of our lungs until Mom came upstairs and blessed us out. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

With the windows rolled down, the radio blaring, I finally felt some peace and quiet in my soul. Time to open up this baby and see what she can do, I thought, swinging into the fast lane and gunning it.

Once I’d exited the highway and turned onto the road leading to Mott Tech, I rolled up the windows and turned on the air conditioning. It wasn’t helping.

Anticipation bubbled through me, making my skin clammy and hot. I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel and glanced in the rearview mirror constantly. Warnings fired through my brain like fireworks.

Whether it was a setup or not, Mott was going to tell me what really happened to me the night I died. Don’t ask me how I knew. I just knew. That night had released or given me surprising and strange abilities. Mott realized it. Now I realized it, too.

Finally, I turned down the winding road, which led to the main facility. Once the guards saw my face, they let me right through. I didn’t even have to brake the car to a full stop. The hairs on my arms stood up straight. I used the time it took to drive down the road to calm my nerves using deep, even breaths.

The sun was setting over the rooftop of the one- story building, stinging my eyes for a moment as I drove into the parking lot and found a space in the shadow of the building.

My cell rang. It was Hank.

“I got caught up with the chief,” he said straightaway. “I’m leaving the station now. Wait for me.”

I was already out of the car. “I’m already here.”

“Shit.” The stress in his voice stopped me cold. “The CPP has gone over the chief’s head. You’re to stop the investigation and come into the station to turn in your badge and weapons. You’re officially on leave, Charlie. I’m not so sure we’d have backup if we needed it. Just wait for me in the parking lot.”

I wasn’t surprised the CPP had gotten me recalled. It was only a matter of time. “Okay. Just hurry up.”

He hung up. I went back to the car and leaned against the door, wondering what the hell I’d do for the next thirty minutes. If it was a setup, they already knew I was here. We still weren’t sure if Titus was involved, or who was the mastermind behind the ash. And if Titus did have more info on the night I died, I’d rather hear it alone, without Hank as a witness. This was personal.

I blew a strand of loose hair from my face, chewing over the idea of going in anyway and scanning the parking lot for any recognizable vehicles. No limos, black SUVs, or suspicious sedans. The only thing left to do was wait, so I sat on the hood of the car and watched the orange ball of fire settle into the hazy horizon. Bored, I slid the rubber band off my ponytail, finger-combed my hair, which looked almost red in the glow of the setting sun, and then used the band to secure my tresses in a messy knot. It’d be another cool evening. Maybe, after this was over, Hank and I could walk down to the pavilion by the lake.

Ten minutes later, my cell phone rang again. “Madigan.”

“Would you rather talk in the parking lot, Detective?” came Titus’s questioning voice.

I glanced at the security camera. The underground lab gave me a trapped feeling, so I took him up on the offer. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all; just give me a few minutes to lock up down here, and I’ll come up.”

“Great.” I flipped my cell closed, feeling a wash of relief. Maybe it wasn’t a setup after all.

The sound of tire treads on asphalt edged in on my thoughts. A line of black vehicles blinked through the open spaces of the trees. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind who was in the limo.

Damn it!

I jumped into the car, revved the engine, and peeled out of the parking lot, fishtailing. There was only one way in and that was blocked, so I drove onto the grass, gaining speed to bypass the vehicles and come out behind the line of cars. At that moment, I wished the fire-engine-red Mustang was a nice camouflage green.

They noticed me almost immediately, but I’d acted quickly enough to dodge behind them. My teeth clattered