Past - Jack

I've seen a lot of fucked up shit in my time with the HBPD. You name it, I've seen it, arrested it, or interrogated it. But the cases I hated the most were when innocent women are battered, abused, or raped, simply because they're weaker physically. A real fucking man would never touch a woman in anger or lay a hand on her. Unfortunately, there weren't too many real men out there anymore.

I'd just gotten home from arresting a serial rapist I'd been chasing for several months. He'd gotten to six women before I'd hunted him down. All six haunted me, their photos showing bloodied faces and torn clothing on a constant slideshow in my head.

I got the bastard behind bars. Now I needed to let him and the case go from my brain.

My house was dark, no lights or activity to welcome me home. Just dark rooms with minimal furniture. Not even a goddamn dog to breathe life into the place. While everyone else was out enjoying the last few days of summer, I was inside working on cases, only leaving in time to see the sun had already set. Not for the first time did I wonder if this was how my life was supposed to be lived.

It was nights like these where I craved a woman to fall into and lose myself in. A woman who wrapped me in her arms and blotted out the nightmare of my job. Someone I could talk to about anything, knowing she'd listen and nod her head and then take me to bed to fill my nights with bliss.

Was it too much to ask for a pleasant, agreeable woman to desire me? So far, it seemed it was. I'd dated plenty, finding no shortage of women to fill my bed, but completely lacking in all the other ways. There were the game players, the clingers, the needy ones, the ones with baggage, the loud obnoxious ones. So far? No pleasant ones that could also satisfy me in bed.

Speaking of bed, my mind went to visions of Bailey. In her silky robe, breasts free, nipples hard. In her work attire, dressed like a social elite with all the confidence in the world. In her tight workout pants, kicking some asshole's ass in a parking garage like a total boss woman.

I desired her that's for damn sure. I would even take it further and say I had a soft spot for her that shouldn't be there. Like a sick bastard, I'd enjoyed holding her in my arms when I should have been focused on arresting Esa's attacker.

The problem lay with her personality. She was loud, she was prickly. Funny as hell, but obnoxious. She wouldn't put up with any shit and she surely wouldn't let me run right over her. She'd hold her own and hold my feet to the fire if I didn't pay her enough attention or looked at her wrong. I couldn't see her cooking me dinner or listening patiently while I told her about my day. She'd want to be taken out to dinner and shown a good time. I didn't mind that occasionally, but with my job, that wouldn't happen on the regular.

Plain and simple: she wasn't for me.

I nuked a frozen dinner and sat in front of my television eating the cardboard-like food. I took a swig of my beer and tried to lose myself in yet another reality show with idiots and narcissistic attention seekers.

My phone chirped from somewhere in the cushions. I prayed it wasn't a work case while I dug around to find the phone. I pulled up the text to see it was from Bailey. It was like she had a direct line to my thoughts. How'd she know I was thinking about her?

Bailey: What's with the silent treatment, Detective?

Me: What do you mean?

Bailey: You haven't texted me in weeks...found someone else to put your cuffs on?

She was right. I was totally ignoring her. On purpose. After touching her in the parking garage, I knew I needed to back off. All the not-so-innocent flirting was causing me to care about her. I needed to be the bigger person and put a stop to it. But now that she'd texted me first, I couldn't ignore her. I'd text her tonight and go back to ignoring her tomorrow.

Me: Just been busy. My cuffs only have your name on them.

Bailey: Then what's the hold up, sexy man? Get it? Hold up?

Me: That was a terrible cop joke.

Bailey: The Jack Daniels made me do it.

Me: Are you drunk?

Bailey: Maybe

Me: Are you out somewhere or home?

Bailey: Home. Allll by myself...

Jesus, this woman was killing me. At least she wasn't out at some bar with asshole men around her, waiting to pounce and take advantage of her. I willed myself to put my phone down. I was not going over there. I would not flirt with her. She meant nothing to me.

I took another swig of beer and focused on the argument between two women on the television. Something about one girl sleeping with a guy and the other girl saying they'd slept together first. Trash, total trash.

Bailey: And...the silent treatment begins again...

I looked up, perhaps thinking the ceiling would have the answer for me on what to do with this girl. I wanted her, but I couldn't have her. How did I get her to understand that we'd make each other miserable?

Me: Listen. You're gorgeous, Bailey, and any man would want you, me included. But we'd kill each other within twenty-four hours. I'd rather we both live to see another day. No matter how hard it is to ignore each other.

The bubble on the text screen showed she was typing a reply. I stared at it, hoping I hadn't completely pissed her off, but knowing that might actually be a good thing. The bubble went away and my screen eventually went black.

I didn't know if she was angry or if she agreed with me. Either way, the end result was the same: we were ignoring each other.

Past - Bailey

I woke up the next morning, feeling the ill effects of too much Jack Daniels and dreams of unrequited love. To say I was grumpy would be a drastic understatement.

I rolled out of bed in a rumpled t-shirt and undies, too hung over to bother with shorts. Hopefully Ivan was already out of the house. I looked at the clock and saw it was past ten, which meant I should have the place to myself. I stumbled to the coffeepot and drank my first cup of nectar, the cobwebs pushed back with each caffeine laden sip.

It was halfway into my second cup when I remembered a fleeting conversation from last night. Had I been texting Jack?

I clanked my coffee mug on the countertop and ran out of the kitchen to find my phone. The pounding aggravated my head, but I had to see the damage. I was cringing already, and I hadn't even confirmed it yet.

I swiped and opened my texts, scrolling through quite a few back and forths. I read from the top, gasping out loud at my blatant invitation. He'd turned me down, but his words left the butterflies in my stomach a mess. He said he wanted me, but we weren't good for each other.

And as much as that stung, I had to agree with him. I knew he wasn't the type of man I wanted, but I was still mad that he'd been the mature one in turning me down. Hadn't he ever heard of 'friends with benefits'?

I threw my phone on the bed and stomped back to get my coffee. Fuck. I knew I'd never be able to keep it to a friendship level if I had sex with Jack. I'd want him more than once. Then I'd be doodling his name and planning our wedding. He just seemed like that kind of guy.

And that was completely unacceptable.

Time to save face and be an adult. I would shower, get dressed in my cutest, casual outfit ever and pay Jack a visit. To confirm our plan to ignore each other.

Perfectly reasonable plan.

I walked into the police station, stopping at the front desk to ask for Jack. The man at the desk gave me a once over and then told me to take a seat while he located him. After a few terrifying moments of watching people in handcuffs being brought in and out the front door, the front desk guy called my name.

I jumped out of my seat and followed him through a door and down the long hallway. Lots of curious faces turned to watch my progression through the precinct, making me second-guess my outfit choice for this particular venue. And I didn't like second-guessing myself.

The guy gestured toward a door and told me to give it a knock before entering. He moved back down the hallway and I allowed myself one long breath before knocking quickly. As instructed, I opened the door right after my knock and saw that Jack was seated as his desk with people in his office. Having a meeting. Which I was interrupting.

Jack looked at me blankly and I felt so out of place, I wanted to find a hole in the ground to hide in. I was about to close the door again and slink back down the hallway when I realized the two people seated with Jack were Brinley and her new boy-toy Dean.

Brinley jumped up and rushed over to hug me. "Bailey! What are you doing here? Are you here to see me or Jack?" She looked a bit confused, probably wondering why I was interrupting them.

I looked at Jack in apology before turning to Brinley with a big ol' smile and putting my arm around her. I moved us to the hall saying, "Yes! I came to see you. I wanted to find out when your big game was so I could make sure I got it off work."

I ignored the hole being burned into the back of my head by Jack's gaze as I walked to the front of the station with Brinley. This was so not how this was supposed to go.

Great, now I had multiple things to apologize for.