“Guilt? Over what?”
“You. What if, I’m wrong, what if we’re all wrong and you had something to do with…”
“Excuse me,” a woman interrupted us. “If you three are going to hang out in the parking lot then you need to order something.”
Captain Getty flashed his badge, “I’ve got this.”
“Okay, but please keep it down, I could hear this one”—she tossed a thumb in my direction—“the whole walk over to you.”
“Sorry, ma’am,” Captain Getty apologized.
I waited until the uptight woman was out of hearing range. “I’ve been in love with you since I was in high school. Do you know what I’ve been going through? How I have drowned myself in guilt?” My hands shook at my side, and I desperately wanted to knock him onto his arrogant ass or wrap my hands around his throat and strangle him.
“Kobe,” he said as he held up his hands for peace. “You thought that I might be guilty?”
I paused for a second because for a moment he looked hurt but then I remembered all the hurt I’ve been going through.
“Oh don’t Kobe me.” I let out a huff of breath. “What excuse could you possibly have? We’ve slept together, and you couldn’t find the time to squeeze in a ‘Hey, by the way, I’m an undercover cop?’” I couldn’t stand here any longer, I couldn’t take it. I turned on my heels and ran as hard and fast as I could to Ridley’s Jeep.
Not bothering to stop as he called my name, completely forgetting about the wire that I came out here for in the first place. I threw the Jeep in reverse, nearly hitting a minivan as I peeled out of the parking lot and sped all the way back toward Ridley’s.
“So stupid, Jesus fucking Christ,” I said as I slammed my hands on the steering wheel and ran through a red light. “And the way he just stood there?” I growled as I sped down the interstate, blending into traffic seamlessly, slowing enough to pass a cop car before pressing the pedal to the metal and flying home. I parked the Jeep in the driveway and rested my head on the steering wheel. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever made it home that quickly before and just hoped that Ridley wouldn’t receive any tickets in the mail. I would pay them of course, but still, it would suck to explain that. I climbed out of the Jeep, but when I was halfway to the door, I heard the low rumble of a motorcycle, which drew my attention.
“No. Fucking. Way.” I dragged my fingers through my hair and turned just in time to see him dismount. “How’d you get here so fast?” I asked.
“The same way you did,” he said. “Risking life and limb.” I couldn’t smile at him, I was too angry and hurt. “I have something for you.” He closed the distance between us and held up a small silver bracelet.
“You brought me jewelry?” I asked in disbelief, angry and confused.
“Hold on, don’t go all romantic on me,” he said as he held the bracelet up, and the sunlight reflected off it. “It’s from Getty, it’s your wire. You ran away before we had a chance to give it to you.”
“I ran—” I started as he held up a finger silencing me and clipped it on.
“It will record audio and visuals.” I grit my teeth together as I stare down at what might be the most important piece of jewelry that I ever wear in my entire life. “Look, Kobe,” he said as I pulled my hand from his and stuffed them back into the pocket of my jeans. “You and I had the same goal,” he said. “I couldn’t tell you before because it’s literally my job not to let anyone know, and I’m sorry.” My lips parted in surprise. “I never meant to hurt you. That’s a fucking cliche, but it’s the truth, Kobe. I care about you. All we have between us—it’s real,” he said urgently. I felt weak at the admission. “I care about you. Which is why I pushed so hard for you to back off and let me handle this. This is my job, and more than that, Jared was my friend too.” The words hung in the air as the sprinklers started around us. “I need you to back off, for your safety, please?” he said as he took a step forward and grasped my hand in his rough calluses, sending goose bumps up my arm. As my body recalled the way he felt against me only hours before.
“I can’t do that,” I said and looked at my hand and his. “You know I can’t do that.” He lifted my hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss against my fingers before holding my hand to his chest.
“In that case,” he said as he toyed with the bracelet. “Press the side of this button if you are using the restroom, changing clothes, or we’re having sex,” he said, his eyes flickered down to my mouth. “Other than that, Getty is watching.” Then he released my hand, turned away, and mounted his motorcycle.
Kobe
The warm fragrance of coffee brewing filled my lungs as I rolled out of bed, ready to face another day.
Grabbing a pair of cutoffs and a T-shirt, I dressed and stared at myself in the cheval mirror. It wasn’t so much that I was analyzing how I looked as I was examining how I didn’t fit in with my surroundings. Ridley was an artist through and through, not only with her artwork but the way this place was decorated. The room I was staying in, my room, God it felt so good saying my room, had a plush floral chintz comforter with zebra print pillows. They matched in a strange way. The off-white tones of the furniture seemed to meld the stark contrast of the animal print.
I gave
