The sun drifted brightly in through the long-paned window, illuminating the flecks of dust and miniscule debris that floated in the air. Through heavily lidded eyes and a foggy brain, my first concrete thought was to wonder why in the hell the sun was so damn bright when all I wanted was another hour or two of sleep to free me of the exhaustion I hadn’t yet been able to escape.

Sleeping in the same bed as Hailey had done little to aid my recovery, and I silently chastised myself for thinking I could minimize the effect it would have on me. I’d spent half the night waking at sporadic intervals, raising my head from the pillow slightly as I listened intently for the easy, calm breaths she took in as she slept. The curtains were open, and in the pale bluish light of the moon, I’d watched as her chest rose and fell in time with each one.

The muted light also darkened the violent discolorations of her face, distinct and painful reminders of the attack I wished I could have prevented, but it highlighted the contours of her face as well, shadowing her fine cheekbones and the curve of her chin.

Hailey Spencer was beautiful. Not even bruises could erase that.

After that realization—it wasn’t so much that I’d just noticed, but more that I’d finally admitted it to myself—I couldn’t fall asleep as soundly, too many thoughts bouncing around in my mind.

Too many times to count, I thought I heard a hitch in her breathing, and every time I held my own breath, waiting for her to either resume the rhythmic pattern that had lulled me into a comfortable state of relaxation, speak out loud to let me know she was awake as well, or burst into tears, caught up in a harsh nightmare. She’d been through so much; I didn’t understand how Hailey couldn’t dream of all the things she’d seen, and done, and lived through.

But, if Hailey awakened throughout the night, she didn’t let on. That didn’t mean I left her side, though. I stayed where she asked me to be—in bed, beside her, protecting her.

Would it be wrong to say I need you?

Her question haunted me. It killed me from the inside out that she felt she even had to ask. If it was wrong, I didn’t give a damn. I didn’t want her to care, either. Because I wanted Hailey to need me, just as much as my mind and body were compelling me to need her, too.

A groan escaped my mouth as I rolled over toward the middle of the bed. It had to be later than I expected. I hadn’t set an alarm, not resuming the dayshift until tomorrow, but I usually awoke around the same time each day, with or without the blaring alert to coerce me from bed. It was much too bright in the room to be anywhere near five o’clock. Seven thirty, perhaps, closer to eight. Hell, now that’s what I called sleeping in.

I grinned sleepily, letting my hand slide across the bed towards Hailey’s side. “You should stay here more—” My eyes opened fully. “Hailey?”

Her side of the bed was empty, my fingers finding only the cool bedsheets to cling to.

Shit.

I yanked back the covers and made it out of the bedroom door in only a few long strides. “Hailey?”

“In the kitchen.”

Her voice hit me the same moment the scent of coffee did, and I smirked. “Just couldn’t handle a couple hours without a caffeine jolt, huh? Do you set alarms to get up during the night and take espresso shots, too?”

Coyly, she held out her wrist. “An intravenous drip would be so much more convenient.”

I winked at her, heading toward the coffee pot. A mug sat out, ready for me. “Did you even save me any?”

“Didn’t think you’d mind sucking on the coffee grounds.”

“I only resort to that at the precinct. The coffee’s shit there.” I poured myself a cup and leaned against the counter, noticing for the first time that she had her sketchbook unfolded in front of her. “What are you working so hard on this early in the morning?”

“It’s nothing.” She set the pencil down, beginning to close up the book.

I reached across the island, clutching her wrist. She jumped, startled at how fast I moved. “I doubt that. I’ve seen how talented you are, remember?” I set down my mug and used that hand to drag the book away from her, my index finger tucked in between the pages she’d been working on. She didn’t fight me on it, but her eyes were focused on the book as it left her grasp, like a hidden secret was being revealed. I flipped it open, and my hold on her wrist immediately loosened, brought on by a tidal wave of weakness at the sight of her artwork.

“You were drawing…me?”

She didn’t respond, staring at me as though preparing to be scolded. My own face stared back at me from the page, eyes closed, one arm hooked back behind my head across the pillow. The likeness was remarkable, giving the illusion of it being merely a photograph with an etch-like filter on it.

“Jesus, Hailey, this is incredible. A little awkward to know you were watching me sleep, I’ll admit, but incredible.” I pulled my gaze from the drawing to her. “Why were you drawing me?”

“Because you looked peaceful,” she shrugged. “I like the look of peace. And the only time you wear it is when you’re unconscious and your cocky mouth is shut.”

I bit the inside of my lip, both surprised and oddly impressed by her candor. I took a sip of my coffee, and set the mug down, remaining silent as I came around the end of the island. Testing the waters, I reached for her knees and swung her around on the stool to face me. She let out a gasp, then chuckled…until I slowly wedged my knee between hers and stood as close to her as I could get. The close proximity forced her to look up at me, and the eyes that met mine were dark and questioning. “I have two questions for you,” I stated. “First, is your head hurting much?”

Her eyes narrowed, uncertain, but she shook her head.

“Good. The second, were you angry that I kissed you yesterday?”

This widened her eyes back open. I didn’t mention it at all last night, and neither did she. But that kiss must have been playing on a vivid loop in her mind, because her answer came quickly—too quickly. “No.”

“Even better.” I didn’t hesitate. One hand scooped behind her neck to prevent her from falling off the stool, and the other whipped around her waist, pulling her to me. My mouth found hers with as much gentleness as I could muster, and though I knew I must be hurting the cut on her lip, Hailey’s hands came up between us, her fingers clutching my shirt. She didn’t push me away, instead holding me to her, desperate for the intimacy as much as I was. Her lips parted, and my tongue melded with hers. I infused every single fear and worry and emotion I felt into that kiss, determined to make her feel wanted and worth it.

Then, just as hastily, I pulled away, taking a long step back to put distance between us. Only the feverish sound of our labored breathing was heard, and I touched my bottom lip as my eyes locked with hers, convinced I could still feel her mouth against mine.

“Jesus ever loving Christ,” Hailey breathed out, her chest heaving. “What the hell got into you?”

A wry smirk curled my lips up. “That was proof that there are times when you don’t want me to keep my mouth shut. Now,” I pulled my coffee cup from the counter again. “Go get ready. We’re going into the station.”

* * *

Hailey wasn’t thrilled about my decision to take her into the precinct.

“There isn’t a choice in the matter,” I explained while I drove. “The DNA reports for Ellis have come back, and yours won’t be far behind. Trent’s the one who told me, remember? And since he already knows there’s a connection between you and Creighton Banks, that means others know, too. The longer you wait to admit that he’s your father, the worse it’ll look.”

A travel mug of coffee from my place was clutched tightly between her hands. She wouldn’t look at me. “I know what it looks like, and I know how it is. They’ll arrest me.”

“Arrest you?” That earned an incredulous glance toward the passenger seat. “What the hell are we going to arrest you for?”

“Withholding pertinent information. Running. I don’t know. Don’t you guys always find something to use against people you want in your custody?”

Jesus Christ, was she serious? “Hailey, you were twelve. While whatever insight you might have into your father and his dealings is helpful, no one’s going to arrest you for not coming forward. You’re not a criminal.” I almost added the fact that if we always found something to use against people we wanted to arrest, we’d have found something by now that stuck so Creighton Banks would be thrown back in maximum security, but I kept it to myself. “Besides,” I continued in attempt to lighten the mood, “The only one who wants you in their custody is me.”

She didn’t even look at me.

I’d called ahead, and two uniformed officers were waiting outside, surveilling the grounds as I pulled up. I wasn’t taking any chances. Banks could be anywhere, and he wasn’t playing by anyone’s rules but his own.

“All clear, Brett.” I just nodded, my eyes constantly scanning as the three of us guided Hailey into the station.

I could count on one hand how many times I’d been inside the building without a uniform on, but countless officers and personnel greeted me with either a curt nod or a quick hello. Every one of them addressed me using my last name only.

“Someone’s popular,” Hailey muttered, and I waved the way toward one of the interrogation rooms.

I leaned in as she passed by me into the room, whispering, “Not everyone believes I’m an asshole.”

A subtle scoff was her only reply. So, she was still a bit pissed that I brought her here, then. Good to know.

Trent wasn’t far behind me. I didn’t doubt that the entire department was buzzing with the news of a link to the likes of Creighton Banks, and my arrival with someone who could possibly hold the key to his apprehension would travel fast. I hadn’t suggested that Trent try to keep the report on Ellis on the downlow, mostly because that kind of shit would cause me a storm of trouble with the chief and anyone else who found out, and I didn’t believe for one minute that he’d made any attempt to withhold the report results. After all, he had no reason to believe Hailey was anything but an associate of Creighton’s drug ring, just as I had surmised.

“Hailey, how are you feeling?” Ever the polite one, he smiled at her and sent a curt nod toward me.

“Better, thanks.”

Trent closed the door, but even without his direct glare on me, I could see the shadow in his expression and the fleeting glances he stole toward Hailey, trying hard to picture her as someone on Creighton Banks’ payroll.

“I assume you’ve been apprised of the results that came back on Jackson Ellis.” He’d turned back toward Hailey, all business, ignoring the fact I was in the room.

“I told her exactly what you told me.” I leaned back against the table, my fingers gripping the edge tightly. Hailey didn’t sit down, and I didn’t think she would. The size of the room was akin to captivity in her mind, and the door to freedom was now blocked by a uniformed officer.

“I’m aware.” Hailey nodded.

“Ms. Spencer, I’m going to need you to tell me exactly what—”

“Banks is her father, Trent.” I blurted it out without thinking, a flurry of words hurtled harshly, meant to break his professional visage. I couldn’t take watching him pull his interrogative bullshit on her, which was something I usually was impressed by. Not today, and not with Hailey.

Whatever Trent expected from this interview, it wasn’t that. But a flash of relief flickered in the look he sent me. He wasn’t an idiot. There was something going on between Hailey and I, and he damn well knew it. And he found solace in the fact that she wasn’t some two-bit drug dealer, or worse.

“Jesus,” he mumbled, tossing the file folder he’d been holding onto the table behind me. “Okay, wait. You’re going to have to start from the beginning. And I mean, the absolute beginning.” His eyes met Hailey’s, and she nodded. “We’ve got to tread lightly here, and this has got to be done by the book from here on in.”

That was meant solely for me, and his momentary glance my way confirmed it. “You shouldn’t even be in here right now, Brett, and you know it.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped.

But I knew what he meant. I was personally involved. I may have always walked a fine line between what protocol did and didn’t allow, but this was a new one, even for me.

Hailey held up a hand between Trent and I. “Look, I’ll tell you everything I know, Officer Montagne. I’ll cooperate, I will. I just don’t want any trouble for Alex, er, Officer Brett, okay? He’s been nothing but helpful.”

Trent sighed, running his hands through his hair. He didn’t seem to know who to look at first. “I get it. I’ll be honest, I really don’t care what’s going on between you two. And, speaking as your friend—” He cast a glance at me. “—I think you need someone to keep your ass in line. But, people know, Brett. Officers were stationed outside your apartment, where you both stayed last night, and Conway’s not going to be so lenient. You know that.”

“You let me deal with the chief,” I growled. “You just catch Creighton Banks.”

Trent seemed to debate whether to say more, but he wisely shrugged it off and retrieved the file folder from the table. “Fine. So, Hailey, I’ve read the report Officer Brett filed when your purse was stolen—”

“It was one of my father’s men who stole it.”

Both Trent and I faced her, startled. “Why do you say that?” he asked.

She stole a glance toward me, her eyes apologetic. “That phone that was left in my apartment. When he called me. It was the one that had been in my purse when it was stolen. I recognized the big crack in the display screen. I’d just dropped it the week before and broke it.”

“You’re absolutely sure?” I wasn’t doubting her, but felt the need to make sure she wasn’t reaching.

“One hundred percent. I have business cards still in the box back at my place, advertising my freelance artwork, with that number listed on it. If you call the number, I’m sure it’ll ring.” Hailey shrugged again, like she wasn’t discussing the life or death situation she was in. “It’s just a game to him, you know that. It’s not just about tracking me down and finishing what he meant to do nine years ago. That’s not enough for him now. He wants to make me pay for my betrayal, for testifying against him. He wants me to wish he’d succeeded in killing me the first time.”

Creighton’s own personal game of fear. He was enjoying himself. He’d waited this long to exact revenge on the daughter who’d betrayed him; he’d wait until the moment was perfect. He wouldn’t rush it.

The thought nauseated me.

“Is that what he said to you on the phone?” I’d wanted to ask her numerous times what her father had said, but it was hard to put the question into words, not only because I knew she’d be asked countless more times here on the record, but because I’d witnessed her petrified eyes and heard her desperate pleas as she spoke to him. Don’t…please…he’s not involved…

Hailey opened her mouth to respond, interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Trent pulled it open. Officer Constance stood on the other side, and her eyes zeroed in on me. “Sorry to barge in. Chief Conway wants to see you, Brett.”

Shit. That was fast. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“He, uh, said now. Right now.” She didn’t want to be the one relaying this message.

“I’m coming.”

She was barely away from the doorframe when Trent said, “You’d better go. You know I’ll tell you everything that’s said in here. So will Hailey. We’re fine.”

“There isn’t much you haven’t already heard, Alex. Go.” She met my eyes, nodding with an encouraging strength I didn’t understand how she could still harbor with everything she was up against.

“I’ll be right down the hall.” It took everything I had to walk out of that room and leave her safety in someone else’s hands. But, if it had to be someone, I was glad it was Trent Montagne.

Chief Conway’s door was open. I prepared to knock anyway, but his deep voice greeted me first. “Get in here, Brett.”

“You wanted to see me, Chief?” I didn’t bother to take a seat, and he didn’t offer. Conway’s hair was peppered with gray, the corners of his eyes etched with lines from the toll this job took on even the most resilient of men. But his expression spoke volumes. This wasn’t going to take long.

“The Spencer case. You’re still actively working it?”

It irked me that he didn’t feel the need to specify which case that was. It was a test. Because I hadn’t actively responded to Hailey’s attack; Trent did. But the menial stolen purse wouldn’t register as acutely on his radar, so that wasn’t what this was about. He knew I’d attended the hospital with Trent, despite the fact I hadn’t been on duty. To hell with it. “Yes, sir.”

“And it’s true you have a personal relationship with the victim?”

“Hailey.”

“What?” Conway’s eyes narrowed, unimpressed.

“Her name’s Hailey.” It was a bad move, a stupid one, but I didn’t care. Shit was about to blow wide open, I could feel it, and I couldn’t afford to let the chief’s opinions sway me.

“Are you, or are you not, personally involved with Hailey Spencer?” He enunciated each word with an impatient drawl. He didn’t give a damn about my opinions, either.

I levelled my gaze to meet his eyes. “Yes, sir.”

He leaned back in his chair, sighing. “I’ve always liked you, Brett. And you know I respect you as a part of this force. But you’re not really leaving me much choice here.”

I leaned against the doorway, outwardly calm, but seething on the inside. “You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t apologize for the inconvenience I’m causing you, sir.” I gritted the words out through clenched teeth, a kneejerk reaction. “But I’m not going to stand here and mince words with you while Creighton Banks is at large and seeking revenge on the daughter who testified against him.” I watched as Conway’s eyes sharpened, the truth of what I was saying registering in his mind. That’s right, I wanted to scream at him. She’s Creighton’s fucking daughter, and you’re sitting here worrying about goddamn protocol.

I expected him to lose his shit—it wouldn’t be the first time I’d goaded him into it. “You’ve been removed from any and all open files involving Hailey Spencer and Creighton Banks, Alex.”

The use of my first name didn’t go unnoticed. A hollow chuckle erupted from my throat. “You’re grounding me?” I cocked an eyebrow. “She’s staying with me, sir. And until that son of a bitch is caught or dead, I don’t foresee that changing.”

“Go home, Alex.” Chief Conway pulled a typed letter from the top drawer of his desk and held it out to me. “You’ve given me no choice. This could be a lot worse, and stronger disciplinary actions could be taken. Take what I’m offering. It’s temporary, and we’ve still got mutual respect.”

I reached out, wary, but took the letter. Three lines in, my heart had already plummeted into my stomach. “Jesus Christ, you’re suspending me?”

“It’s for your own good,” he replied, his jaw firm. “Now, go home. Officer Cheyne will escort you out.”

I glanced back, for the first time realizing that Cheyne was waiting silently just outside the door. Another hollow scoffing noise came from somewhere deep within me, and I folded the letter, tucking it into the back pocket of my jeans. “You know what? You do what you’ve got to do, sir.”

“I am.”

“Good.” I shook my head, holding up my hands when Cheyne attempted to follow me. I didn’t need a fucking babysitter.

That was fine, let Conway do what he felt he had to. Part of me didn’t blame him, as much as it stung.

You do what you’ve got to do, boss, I thought. And, so will I.