Break My Heart (The Heart Series Book 2) (17 page)

Priceless
. I laugh wholeheartedly. It’s the little things that make it all worth it, like Adams’s face right this moment. The moment when it dawns on him, he’s been crushing on Charlie’s mom.

Charlie, who has taken a special pleasure in hazing my new partner.

The first week he changed all of Adams’s phone contacts to Teague’s number. So, every time poor Adams texted or called someone, it went straight to our ASAC Dan Teague. He still refuses to call Adams by his name, instead addressing him by every boy band member he can remember.

Schooling my features, I chime in with my best attempt at seriousness. “Is that a problem, Adams? Because, I still say, ask him. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to hook you up.”

Nelson glares at me. He knows Charlie’s jaws would unhinge, swallowing poor Adams whole. Ryan loves his mom to a fault. Chris thinks it’s the cutest thing. She calls them the mother/son equivalent of the
Gilmore Girls
. Of course, that’s if Rory were an ex-sniper with an attitude problem.

“Hook Adams up with who?” Charlie appears as if our conversation summoned him.

Poor Adams’s eyes are wide as saucers, those thick lashes blinking an SOS my way. I chuckle knowingly and let him off the hook.

“Nobody. We’re just talking. Hey, listen,” I quickly change the subject, “the elevator camera is on the brink. We need to check it out.”

“Cool. Hey, Gino’s! Do we have silverware?”

قلب

“Take Adams with you,” Nelson orders once Charlie is done polishing off what’s left of the pizza.

He rolls his eyes at Nelson. “You serious?”

“Of course I am. He needs to learn to think on his feet.”

They discuss Adams like he’s not even in the room. Nelson approaches and signals for me to get up, letting me off window duty. The three white males residing in the apartment are out. Most of their routine is predictable, but we can’t slack on the job. We still need Nelson as the lookout.

“Fine. Let’s go, kid.” Charlie motions for Adams to follow us as we file out. Once we make it to the lobby of our building, I loop my arm through Charlie’s.

As soon as we hit the sidewalk, my eyes squint at the direct sunlight.

“So, what’s with you?” he asks as he retrieves his sunglasses from the top of his head and puts them on.

“Nothing is with me,” I reply, blocking my eyes from the sun as we cross the street.

Charlie scoffs skeptically. “I’m sure, that’s why Tommy’s been calling me asking about work.”

“What did you tell him?” I should have known. Those two have always been tight.

“I said to ask you. Just because I’m your co-worker doesn’t mean I’m his informant.” He smirks my way, flashing his one-sided dimple.

I have to admire Charlie’s loyalty.

“Thanks.”

We reach the sidewalk and enter the building, Adams trailing behind. Familiar faces exit as we make our way in. We’ve been surveying a few days, so we have a pretty good log of current residents.

“I have to say, though, you look like shit. What’s with the bag lady getup?” Charlie teases.

“They’re my running clothes. What the hell do you want?” I reply, somewhat dejected.

He shrugs, pushing his aviators back on top of his head.

We make our way to the elevator, pressing the
Up
arrow. Adams finally catches up.

“So, how do we check the camera?”

Charlie and I glare at him. He’s so damn green. We shouldn’t be talking, we should be doing. I’ll have to mention it to him later.

The glare is enough. Adams quickly glances at the elevator numbers counting down, and the doors open announcing its arrival. The soft ding cues us to board, and we turn to face the doors.

The second the doors creak closed, Charlie threads his hands together in front of his body.

“Keep an eye on the numbers,” he orders Adams.

I put my foot in Charlie’s hands. In one quick, swift move, he gives me a boost and I throw one leg around his neck, mounting his shoulders.

Let the chicken fight begin.

As soon as I move the dummy panel in the ceiling, I spot the problem. Clearing debris, I wave at the camera and wait. Charlie’s phone pings.

“B says we got visual. We’re good,” he says.

I dismount Charlie’s shoulders, bouncing as he catches me effortlessly.

“Nice work, monkey girl,” he jokes, tugging playfully at my ponytail.

Before I can answer, the elevator bell dings. The second the door opens, I step in front of Charlie, pushing him against the wall.

“He just said hi! You don’t have to be an asshole about it!” I yell at Charlie, and he lunges to grab at Adams.

“I’m going to break that pretty-boy face of yours, you little shit! Don’t be eye-fucking my girl!” Charlie roars at poor Adams.

As expected, during our psycho tiff, the incoming would-be passengers chose to take the stairs.

Confrontation in small spaces: a sure way to get rid of unwanted company.

Once the doors close and we begin our descent, Charlie and I face the doors.

“And that’s how we check the camera,” I tell Adams, whose wide-eye stare once again screams “WTF just happened?”

His expressions are damn amusing. Shock and panic adorn his big puppy-dog eyes, his mouth hanging open. This kid makes me laugh. That’s what I call good company.

“Nice acting, Marky Mark,” Charlie taunts.

“Jesus. I might need to change my shorts,” Adams mumbles, staring at us in disbelief.

Charlie and I burst out laughing. 

“Welcome to the team, Adams.” Charlie honors him with a congratulatory slap on the back.

My new partner shakes his head and grins. Even he has to admit that was pretty fucking amusing—and I’m grateful he’s such a great sport.

Once we arrive on the lobby level, we repeat the same process as we quietly exit. I link arms with Charlie, and we make our way across the street.

Adams finally breaks the silence. “Does this mean you’ll stop making fun of me?”

Charlie and I answer in unison: “Nope.”

قلب

We’ve been working in shifts for the past ten hours. Nelson finally retired to the bedroom for a few hours of privacy. I took a quick shower earlier in the evening, hoping to wash away my exhaustion.

I got all caught up on my paperwork, went through my messages—which didn’t take long since most of the people I talk to on a regular basis are less than four feet away from me—and called to check in on Mrs. N.

Everything is well at the
Chateau la N.
She caught me up on the latest building gossip, and thanks to her iPhone, my belated Christmas present to her, I’m now to follow her on twitter. I’m thankful she finally caved and let me enroll her in the local senior day center. They pick her up twice a week, drop her off, and in turn, she not only gets to spend the day having fun while making new friends, she gets to keep her independence.

I’ve tried to keep busy, but the evening arrived along with monotony.

Inside our apartment, music softly plays. Charlie is on window duty; his statuesque profile remains immobile. The contour of his body blends with the evening shadows. His focus is unwavering; it comes from years of training, blending in, lying in wait for a target. He sits astride one of the kitchen chairs, when light movement over his thighs catches my eye: he’s softly tapping his fingers against them.

My guess? He’s playing imaginary piano along with Adele’s “Someone like you.”

I thought I knew everything there was to know about my co-worker, until I saw him sit behind a piano and heard him play. Talk about transformation.

He became the melody. His body, along with the grand piano, came to life as one entity weaving magic together. It was one of those surreal instances where you want to stop and freeze the moment, take a snapshot of the memory, and commit it to heart. When things seem hopeless or overwhelming, you reach into your box of memories and pull it out, reliving those feelings stirred inside of you at that precise moment in time.

That’s what Charlie’s playing did for me.

I cherish that memory, just as I cherish our combined effort to make Nelson and Chris’s wedding memorable.

Adams blocks my line of sight, yet again. This is the fourth time he’s walked in front of me in less than five minutes.

“Why don’t you take over the monitors?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he answers.

Great. I might have to hurt him if Charlie doesn’t get to him first.

Charlie’s eyes shift ever so slightly, keenly aware of the movement to his left. He’s going to drop a sack of hurt on Adams if he doesn’t chill out.

Nelson appears from the bedroom, sporting a huge case of bed head. He runs his big hands over his face, trying to wipe away the remainder of weariness.

“Did you get any sleep?”

“Not enough.” His true answer goes without saying. Sadness and longing hang over his head like a little Christina cloud. He misses his wife so much he might as well wear a neon sign.

He saunters lazily to the kitchen, and polishes off what’s left of the stale coffee.

Meanwhile, Adams has stopped pacing and is eyeing the bedroom. A quick glance at Charlie tells me he’s ready for some shut-eye. Peeling myself off the couch, I point to the monitors.

“Nelson, do you mind? I’ll take over for Ryan.”

Before Nelson reaches the sofa, Adams gathers his overnight bag and disappears down the dinky hall into the bedroom.

“Son of a bitch,” Charlie groans. “Did he just fucking take the bedroom?”

I shrug. “Seems so.”

“That little shit.” Charlie shakes his head, shoulders taut and ready for a throw down. “Fucking Bieber…,” he mutters, a steamroller of a man heading down the hall.

The sound of a door being kicked is followed by a sudden yelp. After a few thumps, growling, and thuds, the door shuts again, and Adams returns to the living room.

“What happened?” I ask, now on window duty.

“Nothing. I’m going to take a shower,” Adam says, sulking like a little boy that got kicked off the swings by bullies.

I glance at Nelson. A small tug of his lips tells me that even he’s amused.

“Everything okay at home?” I ask once we’re alone.

“Yeah.” A huge sigh leaves his massive chest. “I just miss her.”

“You saw her today.”

“I know,” he agrees sadly.

“You got it bad, Nelson. How did you put on your pants and wipe your ass before Christina Reyes came along?”

“I don’t know.” Nelson sighs with a resignation that makes me laugh out loud.

Leaning his elbows on his knees, he runs his fingers through his blond hair, trying to bring order to the disarray. He rubs the back of his neck, watching the monitors.

Soft piano music plays in the background. It’s a love song, and Nelson is mopey in no time.

Love is easy. It just is. But the longing, the separation, the heartache—it’s pure agony. Some days I miss Tommy so much, I can’t breathe. The love is there, but when half of you is gone, the emptiness chips away slowly at you until there’s nothing left.

I know that now.

“You look like I feel.” Nelson’s deep, soft voice cuts through the stillness.

If only he knew my outside barely touches the hurt and emptiness I feel inside.

I snap a picture of a couple entering the building, and log the activity on our surveillance report.

“At least I don’t smell like armpit and jock strap,” I finally say.

“It
is
starting to stink up in here,” Nelson agrees. “Hey, how long are you guys going to torture Adams? Wasn’t it bad enough to have him go through the trash?”

A smile escapes me at the memory. Charlie and I had already assessed our suspect wasn’t discarding trash in the vicinity, yet we made Adams go through it.

“I don’t know, maybe when it’s not fun anymore.”

“With Ryan, that could be never,” Nelson muses, worriedly.

Awkward silence used to be the only company when Nelson and I were alone.

Until he married Christina.

Chris was there for me when no one else was. No hidden agenda. It took me years to accept her love and let her into my life.

I’m glad they found each other. I am. But I work with Nelson. I see him every day, and if anything happened between them and he ended up hurting her, I would have to transfer out because I’d kill him. Literally.

“Listen, Harper, now that’s just us, I just wanted to say, thanks for taking Chris out for her birthday.”

It’s too late to hide my shock. I wasn’t expecting that.

“I know you don’t like talking about…you know.” He leans forward, going for his mug, and taking a sip of his coffee.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I reply curtly, my jaw clenching involuntarily.

“The case is closed, I know. But your disappearance did something to my wife, and I won’t rest until I give her peace.”

Nelson takes me by surprise. This entire time I thought it was for
his
peace of mind. I know Chris and I can’t think about what my disappearance did to her. I can’t go there.

After returning the cup to the coffee table, his massive frame relaxes, his elbows resting on his knees once again. His stoic face and strong, unwavering, gaze appraise me.

“After you went missing, she took it real hard. She wouldn’t sleep or eat, she’d cry all the time.”

I just sit by the window without saying a word. Shame, guilt, and grief overwhelm me. Focusing on the window, I try to rein in my emotions, swallowing the knot forming inside my throat.

“Then Tommy bailed on all of us. That did something to her, too.” Nelson’s deep voice darkens, along with the evening. “She kept thinking of all the things you’d be going through….” He trails off, clearing his throat and trying to get his bearings back.

My head hurts and my eyes sting. Grief claws its way up my chest but I push it down.

“She still worries about you,” he adds.

A lone tear escapes my eye and I quickly wipe it away. Nelson notices, but doesn’t move from the couch.

“She was beaming when we found you. She was that sunny girl I fell madly in love with again. Our spare bedroom was ready for you the day you were admitted to the hospital. She scolded me, told me to put my stuff away because you were staying with us the second you were released. There wasn’t even a discussion.” Nelson chuckles and it’s full of love and wonderment.