I don't know what it is about a full moon, but for some reason it just brings all the craziest cases straight to the ER.

Mostly that means a busy night for nurses and doctors, but occasionally, someone will come in and forget that they're supposed to behave like a decent person in public. I've already had to remove two men from the premises. One because he wouldn't stop banging on the plexiglass at the triage window, and the other because he kept trying to hit on one of the nurses. Both real charmers, of course, and neither thought they'd done anything wrong. The "I go to the ER to pick up women" guy told me he was going to sue. I wished him good luck with that.

It's still early, though. Not even eleven yet, which means the really crazy stuff is yet to come. I'm almost glad for the fact that it's bound to be hectic because it's a lot better than sitting at a desk all night, wishing I could be with Eric.

But tonight, I get the best of both worlds. A few hours ago, he texted me saying he wanted to lay claim to my lunch break. He should be here soon, since he just left his mom's house not a half hour before. I already warned him about the cafeteria food, though knowing him, he'll probably sneak something in.

It's weird, though. I'm feeling a little nervous. Eric and I have shared meals before, but this feels different. There's something really domestic about going to somebody's place of work to spend their break with them.

That thought should freak me out a little. I've never been the domestic type. I knew early on I wanted to be a cop, and I just always had it in my head that I'd be married to my job; it wouldn't be fair to even try to do anything more than casual dating with anyone else.

But I'm not a cop now, and even if I was, I think Eric might be worth it.

"They told me the security desk was up here. I'm looking for Reeve Barnett." His voice cuts through my thoughts, and I gladly set aside my incident reports.

The nurse's station sends him my way and I can't help the stupid grin that spreads across my face as I see him. It hasn't even been that long since I saw him last, but I miss him. And damned if I'm not considering how risky it would be to pull him into a supply closet for a little bit.

My smile is met with an answering one from Eric, but it doesn't quite catch, like an engine that just can't quite seem to turn over. Even though he lets his guard down with me in private, Eric's usually really good at wearing that mask in public. The fact that it's slipping here instantly puts me on alert.

"How crowded is the cafeteria this time of night?" he asks, not bothering to pretend like everything's okay.

He obviously needs to talk to me about something, and my first concern right now is finding somewhere we can do just that.

"Pretty packed, but we can sit outside."

I lead him toward the exit, letting the nurses know I'm taking my lunch. Eric is quiet and withdrawn as he follows me, his gaze unfocused. As we step outside, I can't help but think of the incident in the parking garage.

This has to be about Blake. Nothing else would put him this on edge.

"He contact you again?" I ask, as soon as we're out of earshot of the EMTs hanging around the ambulance bay.

"Worse than that."

Eric waits to say anything more, and I'm fucking dying inside. That need to do something, to fix this is clawing away at me. But I can't fix something I don't know about.

Somehow I manage to hold my shit together long enough to lead him to one of the picnic tables near the lake. During the day, this is a nice, peaceful spot to sit down and eat. At night, it's creepy as hell. The lights that illuminate the path shine off the surface of the water, and every now and again, I can hear ducks or frogs or something else disrupting the stillness.

On the plus side, nobody's going to bother us out here.

I look at Eric, but he's paying attention to the brown sack he brought with him. He pulls a few aluminum-foil-wrapped parcels out of it, and I take a seat on the bench across from him, my fingers digging into my thigh and my jaw clenching hard as I fight the urge to beg him to talk.

"He showed up at my mom's house."

Anger surges in me like a brush fire and I grind my teeth so hard, my jaw starts to hurt. I know I can't act like some caveman right now—that's the last thing Eric needs. But I sure as shit want to find that asshole and finish what I started.

As I fight past my anger, though, another emotion grips me: Worry.

"Tonight? When everybody was there?"

I have to hope that if something had happened to Gracie or anybody else, Eric would've led with that fact, but still.

"Earlier today. He made up some story about being an old classmate of mine."

Jesus. Trying to send a message in the most cowardly way possible.

"Did you tell your mom about him?" I ask, pretty sure I know the answer already.

Eric still doesn't look at me. He just draws in a breath, his features tightening. "I couldn't."

I reach over and take his hand in mine, giving it a squeeze. When he finally looks at me, his eyes are watery, but there's a firm set to his chin.

"I need this to be over, Reeve. I need him out of my life."

Can't disagree with that, and the fact that he wants to take action is like a key turning in my mind. I'm so focused on the future and getting this guy gone that I'm not really thinking about what I say in the present.

"If that motherfucker knew what was good for him, he would've left town when I told him to."

Eric looks up at me, his blue eyes cautious and questioning. "…When you told him to?"

Shit.

This is one of those moments where I just hate my past self. Whatever my intentions were in not telling him, they aren't worth that look I can see starting to creep into his expression.

That look that says he's not sure if he can really trust me.

"I saw him a few days ago," I admit. "He cornered me in the parking garage after work."

Eric's face pales and his eyes go wide. "Jesus Christ, Reeve. And you didn't think to tell me this?"

"You were happy. Seemed like you were finally getting the chance to relax for the first time since this shit started. I didn't want that asshole to hurt you again."

I know it's a shitty reason, even as the words leave my mouth. Eric leans away from me—not on purpose, I don't think. But it's still enough to hurt.

"That wasn't your call to make, Reeve. Jesus. If I'd known he was still here, still starting shit, I could've kept today from even happening."

His tone stings, and for half a second, I think of uttering the most awful thing I can manage. Something about how he’d have to actually tell his mom about Blake first. Thankfully, I have enough sense to not react like some wounded animal.

"I know. Doesn't matter why I did it. I fucked up, and I'm sorry."

Eric lets out a shaky breath, looking down at our joined hands. The fact that he hasn't pulled his away from mine yet is a good sign, I think. And when he looks up at me again, that wariness from earlier is gone.

"Did he hurt you at all?"

I shake my head. "Got in a cheap shot; knocked the wind out of me. But nothing other than that."

He searches my eyes, hesitating for a long moment before asking, "Did you hurt him?"

Not as much as I wanted to.

That's the first answer that comes to mind, but it's not the right one. I can't act like a loose cannon right now. The last thing I need is for Eric to ever worry that I'm going to turn out like Blake. It would fucking kill me if he thought that.

"Shoved him against the wall after he sucker punched me," I admit. "Think I bruised his ego more than anything else."

He squeezes my hand, his gaze leaving mine again. "I don't think… I mean I know you're not like…"

"I know," I say softly.

We just sit there like that for a few moments, in front of that eerie ass lake. Something skims across the water, dashing the reflection of the lights.

"What do we do now?" he finally asks.

When I was a detective, I learned real quick that you always have to assume people aren't as honest as they like to believe they are. Suspects, witnesses, anyone who can be interviewed can give you false information or just not cooperate at all, whether it's intentional or not.

You always have to have a backup plan, and I'm glad I remembered to account for that here.

"After I saw him, I put a call into my old partner. He's getting me in touch with Blake's parole officer."

Eric sucks in a breath and his eyes widen not with fear this time, but with a flicker of hope. It’s dashed just as quickly as his brow knits in confusion. "I don’t understand. What can a parole officer do? I don’t have a restraining order out against him…"

"Terms of his parole say he’s not supposed to leave New York. If I can explain the situation, the PO can press for a bench warrant."

Relief floods his features, and I really wish I could feel the same. But if Blake tries something again, that process is going to take way too long.

"We have to find a way to set him up. Make sure he gets arrested before he can do any more harm," I explain.

"It's me he wants. I could text him, ask to meet somewhere."

Every part of me bristles at that. It's not a bad idea, but there are so many ways it could go wrong, and Blake's obviously really fucking unstable.

And it's that fear that finally gets through to me. The system failed Maria Cortez, but right now, Eric doesn't have a lot of recourse outside of it. I refuse to let him wade into an unsafe situation just so he can bait out some behavior that might lead to an arrest.

Some part of me wants to play the hero. Track him down and make sure he gets the message this time. But last time I did that, he went after Gracie. There's a very real chance he'll make good on all these threats, and that's not a chance I'm willing to take.

So like it or not, I'm going to have to rely on the system.

"I want to hear back from that PO first. Then we can move."

It's probably the most reasonable, sensible decision I've made since I quit the force. But making it doesn't mean I have to just sit around and wait for shit to go down.

"In the meantime, we prepare. Round up any texts or calls or anything else he's sent since he got out. Talk to your neighbor, let him know what's going on. I'll take the next few days off, and you should, too."

Eric shakes his head, his expression firm. "No. I'm not letting him scare me away from the diner. I need that place to stay sane, Reeve."

I can feel a muscle in my jaw tick, but Eric just holds my gaze with an impressive amount of resolve. As much as I'd like to keep him wrapped up in a blanket at home, I have to respect the fact that he's not willing to let Blake run his life.

"Fine. But no more getting there at four or five before anybody else shows up."

He makes a face, but finally nods. "Yeah. That's fair."

"And Eric…" I meet his gaze, my own softening. "You have to talk to your mom. She needs to know."

Another nod. Slower this time, and his free hand comes up to drag over his face. "I know."

We lay out a plan for the next few days. I'm going to call Parker again and see if I can get ahold of the PO directly. Eric's going to come clean with his mom, and let Jake and David know to be on their guard, too.

When he's at work, he'll be surrounded by people all day. And when he's not at work, he'll be with me.

"I'll see if I can cut out early," I tell him, knowing I've already gone way over the time I'm allowed for lunch.

But Eric shakes his head. "Just come to the diner after. I'm going back to Mom's tonight, and I'll stay there until six. That's around the time Tony gets in."

I don't like that there's this stretch of time where I won't know how he is. Blake could follow him, run him off the road. The guy's just desperate enough to do it.

As if sensing my worry, Eric says, "I'll text you the whole way."

My eyes narrow. "Are you seriously telling an ex-cop you're going to text and drive?"

"Hands-free texting," he says with a small grin. "It came standard with the car. Never thought I'd use it."

That settles me down some, but I can still feel that anxiety clawing at me. If I could protect Eric every minute of every day, I would.

But as independent as he is, as much as he wants to live his life, I know he'd end up hating me.

We toss the food neither of us felt up to eating and I walk Eric to his car. He stops before getting into it and pulls me down for a kiss.

"Promise me you won't do anything stupid," he pleads, looking up at me. "I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you…"

My heart does a little flip in my chest, instantly warming at the emotions behind his words. I lift my hands to his face, my thumbs stroking the fine ridge of his cheekbones.

"I promise," I say, and lean in to kiss him again. “Same goes for you.”

He doesn’t try to make a joke. He doesn’t even smile. Instead he just gives me a slight nod, and that does more to set me at ease than anything else. “Deal.”