Jennifer Lynne is a homicide detective working on one of the most horrific serial killing cases New York has seen in the last decade. When she and her partner get a lead on the suspect, they catch him with his seventh victim. But things go south and...
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The car is quiet. Too quiet for my liking. But I can't find it within myself to fill the silence. Drake sits behind the wheel. When I glance out the corner of my eye, I see his jaw is tight and his grip on the wheel is nearly crushing.
He's not mad. No, he doesn't show anger. He's worried. I can feel it in the air like a humid cloud. It hovers over me and creates static electricity on my skin when I move. But the question is... what is he worried about? My best guess would be me. That's the thing though — I don't want him to be concerned about me because if he is, he will give me his all. And he will lose a bit of himself for that time.
I don't want that for him.
I squirm in my seat under the heavy silence, which gets Drake to peer over at me. I try not to look back. I suck in a breath, but all I taste is bile.
Shit. That has to be my worst moment. When I shut my eyes, I see the shock in Drake's eyes and the disgust in Mal's. Captain called for someone to help clean up the vomit and he told Drake to bring me home. This time, he demanded I don't show up until Monday — at the very least. No exceptions. I saw his regret, I assumed from letting me come back so early in the first place.
"So, you're not going to say anything?" Drake asks, snapping me out of my embarrassing memory. My brows curve as I look over. "You're not going to explain what happened?"
I sigh, rubbing at my arm. "I just felt sick, that's all." There's truth somewhere in the lie.
He scoffs lightly, shaking his head. "You've been acting so weird lately, Jen." His eyes meet mine and I regret it immediately. "Weirder than just getting hurt on the job."
My jaw clenches. "All everyone has done is question me when I'm just trying to deal!"
"Jenny, we're questioning you because you pushed so hard to get back to work right away. We're worried."
I cross my arms and look out my window, tears beginning to poke at my eyes. "I'm fine."
"Really? You've never gotten sick on the job, not even at the crime scenes. How are you fine now?"
You know what!? I whip my head back. "You wanna know? You really wanna know?"
He looks at me, surprised at first. Then he nods. "Yes!"
"I —" I snap my mouth shut, my teeth biting into my lip. Hard. I turn my head away, lifting my hand to my mouth to wipe at it.
I... can't tell him. Part of me thinks he wouldn't believe me, or he'd think I'm losing my mind, possibly from the head injury. And if he knew I was even remotely believing in what Aaron Jackson is telling me, he'd probably take me in himself.
After another minute of silence, Drake sighs. "Jenny..." I can feel his eyes on the side of my face but I refuse to look. I can't. "I care about you. I want to help."
