Chapter Seventeen

Last night had been awful. When Daisy told him her father was an alcoholic, to be honest, he hadn’t really thought it through beyond the fact that the man liked to drink a lot. Alcoholic was a term that could describe so many degrees of a dependency on booze, and he hadn’t jumped to the conclusion that her father was the extreme version of the word.

That things could be that bad.

He hadn’t pictured the full reality of what she faced every day, and what she’d had to do to grow up to be as near to normal as she was. To become a cop. The amount of respect he had for her tripled after last night. And he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

About it.

He just wanted to pull her into his arms, hug her close, and make it all go away.

Pressing two fingers to his throbbing nose, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He had a hell of a headache, and the sirens blaring in the distance did nothing to help that. After they got her father home last night, and after they spent a good four hours cleaning his filthy home, Daisy had fallen into Mark’s bed and immediately passed out.

When he crawled into bed with her, she mumbled something about losing a brick, curled up against him, and let out the cutest snore he’d ever heard. He quickly followed her into slumber, and she’d been gone when he woke up. He was trying not to read too much into that.

There were two taps on the door, and a way too loud voice exclaimed, “What the hell happened to you last night? Did Steven finally lose his temper and punch you?”

Internally, he rolled his eyes, but on the outside, he calmly said, “Nah. I ran into a door.”

Holt snorted. “A door shaped like a fist?”

“Something like that.”

“Seriously, man.” He eyed Mark with a concern that was almost touching. “What happened? Everything okay?”

“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.

Damn it.

“What the hell are you doing here, man?” Tim hissed, glancing over his shoulder. “Get back in your truck before I’m forced to arrest you for interfering with a crime scene.”

He lowered his hands. “Of course. I’m sorry. I don’t know…”

“Go.” He followed Mark to his truck, and watched as he climbed in. The second the door was shut, he leaned on the open window and eyed Mark. “If she sees you here, checking up on her, she’ll be pissed. I suggest you leave before that happens.”

Mark said nothing. There was nothing to say.

Directly behind him was Daisy…

And she looked pissed as hell.

Shit.

Stalking over to him, she rested her hand on the butt of her gun. “I’ve got this, Tim.”

Tim shot him an apologetic look, but immediately left.

“Mark…” She looked impossibly tiny in her bulletproof vest, but every step she took radiated with power. When she reached his truck, she rested a hand on his open window, glanced over her shoulder at the waiting cars, and said, “What are you doing here?”

He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t be this guy.

Couldn’t drag her down.

He had to end this.

“I…” He could lie. Tell her he was heading to lunch and didn’t know about the shooting. But that wasn’t who he was. He’d made a mistake in coming here, in checking up on her like a worried father, and he’d have to own up to it. “I heard about the standoff and got worried, so I came over to see what I could see. I also called you, and texted you a few times, to see if you were okay. Then I heard the gunshot…”

She pressed her lips into a thin line. “I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

“I see that now. But when I heard cops were shot, and another bullet was fired,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I just immediately pictured you lying on the ground, dead, and it scared me. It reminded me of—”

“Let me guess.” She made a small, angry sound. “It reminded you why you didn’t want to be with me?”

It hurt to hear it out loud, but it didn’t make it any less true. He never should have chased her, or caught her, and he certainly never should have fallen for her. If the fear coursing through his veins today was a reminder of anything, it was that. The two of them didn’t belong together. They both knew it when they met but chose to ignore it. It was time to stop.

To walk away before someone got hurt…

More.

“Yes,” he admitted. “I’m sorry. We never should have done this.”

She backed off a step. “Are you saying what I think you’re trying to say?”

He took a deep breath, because as much as he didn’t want to, he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t live in constant fear for another person’s life like this. He couldn’t be the guy who charged on to a crime scene and got his fool ass shot because he was terrified. And he also couldn’t be the guy who begged her to get another job, because he couldn’t handle hers. He couldn’t do that to her…or Ginny.

This had to be the end.

Here and now.

He locked eyes with her, regret making it hard to speak. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize. Don’t you dare.” She stepped back, her nostrils flaring. With her hand still resting on her gun, she avoided his eyes as she shrugged. “We said when one of us changed our mind, then it was done. No questions asked, right?”

Damn, she didn’t need to look so okay with it.

He wasn’t okay.

He flexed his fingers on the wheel. “Right.”

“I—” Her radio went off. The man on the speaker called for backup, and asked for the units holding off traffic to approach. More were being sent to guide traffic away. She lifted the radio to her mouth, depressed the button, and said, “10-4. We’re on our way.”

“Daisy—”

“I have to go. I’m working, Mark. It’s fine. I get it. You don’t want to deal with this. We knew that from the beginning. And you know what? I don’t want to, either.” She shrugged nonchalantly again, and it felt like a knife stabbed through his chest. “We were just messing around anyway. It’s not like this was serious or anything. It was just sex.”

Just sex.

That’s all he’d been to her.

A good lay.

Jesus.

She tapped his hood and cocked her head to Tim, who nodded back. “Take care, Mark.”

He watched her walk away, speechless for the first time in his life.

Every nerve in his body screamed at him to go after her, to chase after her one more time and take back everything he’d said, but she didn’t even care that he’d broken it off with her.

Didn’t even care about him.

So he did nothing.

“Nothing” had never felt so fucking horrible.