Detect Me (14 page)

“I suppose that’s alright,” she said, flicking a gaze up at him through her long eyelashes. “I might give even give you the chance to make it up to me… if you want.”

Did he want? Rosa watched him expectantly and Mark tried to think. His brain felt tangled in knots still, stuck between anger and desire for things he couldn’t have. Could he transfer that desire?

It wouldn’t be any fairer to inflict himself on this woman, of course. Just because Mark didn’t know Rosa the way he knew Nikki didn’t mean that she deserved anything less than a good man and a happy life. But maybe Rosa wouldn’t mind only knowing him for a night. Maybe all he needed was warm skin and a smiling face; someone who would take as much as she gave and leave him with no regrets.

“Would you like…” Mark started to say slowly, not entirely sure where he was going with this. He’d never been much for casual flings. It had always seemed so empty and pointless - hollow, like plastic fruit instead of the real thing. But he could see the appeal now, at least a little. Maybe the beauty of a stranger was that they could distract each other for long enough that they would walk away with their hunger for a connection eased. It didn’t have to be everything, it just had to be enough; enough to get from one moment to the next. Enough to ease the hurt that was still raw inside him.

Rosa smiled brilliantly and Mark’s heart clenched. He had a vivid memory of the way Nikki’s lips curved when
she
smiled; of the way her green eyes looked at him.

He abruptly stopped speaking and the hope that had risen up inside him faded. It was too late, he realized. He didn’t just want a connection anymore. Maybe that was all he’d wanted when Nikki walked into his office, but that wasn’t what he wanted anymore. He wanted Nikki; he wanted that connection because it was a connection to
her
. Nothing else would be good enough anymore.

Julia’s smile softened into something rueful as Mark swallowed and shook his head.

“I’m - I’m sorry,” he said, feeling terrible - for having to turn her down, for himself, just in general. “I thought maybe - but I can’t. Not right now. There’s this - well, there isn’t really, we didn’t ever actually say - but…”

“Honey, if you’re stammering that much, I think it’s safe to say you’ve got a prior commitment, even if you don’t have a written contract,” Rosa said drily. The flirtation was gone from her face, leaving her looking sharp-eyed and faintly irritated.

“I think I just wish I had a prior commitment,” Mark said, knocked off-balance into honesty.

Rosa hoisted her bag further up her arm and surveyed him with pursed lips.

“Of course, I wouldn’t know. But seems to me that any woman would be a fool to let a handsome, mannerly guy like you go, so long as she doesn’t mind them a little on the serious side.”

Mark had worse problems than being too serious, and Nikki was smart enough to realize it. But he accepted the compliment with a forced smile and let Rosa pass on by.

CHAPTER TEN

Nikki woke up on the sofa half-frozen. She raised her head and blinked around the room.

“Charm?” she called, though even if she had been in her own apartment that would have been a stupid thing to say. Iguanas didn’t exactly bark back at you. As far as she could tell they didn’t so much as hiss.

And Nikki was not in her own apartment, she realized rapidly. She pushed herself up on the unyielding leather of the sofa and looked around.

The lights were still on because she’d collapsed in a puddle of tears and gone straight to sleep. She’d felt stretched taut and frayed at the ends, but now… Nikki checked the clock… yikes, eight hours later, she was puffy-eyed but felt more herself again.

Nikki got up and wandered through the apartment, hunting for the bathroom. The apartment felt like one sleek line, all monochrome black and silver.

Mark’s apartment was at least three times the size of hers, but it felt about ten times bigger. The whole thing was just so sleek and quiet and untouched. Nikki poked around the living space and kitchen hesitantly, but saw no signs of life to distinguish this from a model home on display. There were no pictures, no art hung, no knick-knacks you picked up on vacations. Surely he had something from his grandparents, at least? But then Nikki thought of a lost, irresponsible 17 year old wandering the streets of New York City. Maybe not. Maybe he’d had nothing left at that point.

She shivered and slipped past the cracked door into his bedroom.

This room at least let Nikki know that he hadn’t dropped her at a complete stranger’s place. The bed was wide and covered in silky gray sheets that seemed like Mark’s taste, though it looked un-slept in. There was a single bedside table. Debate raged in Nikki’s head for about a quarter of a second, and then she opened up the drawer. Her eyebrows shot up. A notepad, Vaseline, and a compact black gun. Just the essentials, then, she thought with a wry twist to her mouth. She slid the drawer shut carefully and skipped away to less guilt-inspiring areas.

On either side of the bedroom there was a large window with the curtains pulled back. There was a reasonably sized walk-in closet full of pretty much what Nikki expected; expensive jeans and expensive suits. She clicked the closet light off after only a minute and walked back out. The apartment confirmed what she’d already suspected - Mark was a lot more interesting than his possessions.

The only other thing in the room was a huge bookcase overflowing with books of every shape and size. Nikki stared up at the bizarre array of everything from comics to complex medical texts. Did he really read all of these, she wondered? Or were they just bizarre trophies taken from his cases? She couldn’t wait to ask him.

If he’d talk to her again, that was.

It was difficult to remember her exact wording, but Nikki knew that she’d said some truly awful things.
Pathetic mess… all alone… who would stay…
She hugged her arms to her chest and closed her eyes, trying to block out the memory of Mark’s wounded expression. He had told her things that she was sure he hadn’t told many, if any, people, and Nikki had thrown it back in his face.

He did the same to you
, a nasty little voice inside her whispered. And it was hard to deny the truth of that. Mark had looked into Nikki’s eyes like he was looking inside her and liking what he saw, and then he’d lashed out and none of Nikki’s usual guards had been up to protect her.

So?
Nikki demanded angrily of herself.
Is that was this is? Payback? Two wrongs don’t make a right, and even if they did, I wouldn’t want to hurt him.
She hung her head and breathed deeply. That wasn’t the kind of person she wanted to be. She needed to apologize to Mark as soon as possible.

With a last brush of her fingertips against the spines of Mark’s books - wow, he hadn’t dusted in awhile - Nikki walked out of the bedroom and started hunting for her phone. She wasn’t sure if it had a charge or not, but she couldn’t just sit here and wait for Mark to come back without trying anything.

The apartment almost echoed in the early morning silence. Nikki found herself trying not to make too much noise. “Where the heck did it go?” she muttered, hunting around in the couch cushions and wondering wildly if Mark had for some reason taken her phone.

Something caught her attention and Nikki froze, her senses hunting for a sight or sound out of place. She couldn’t see anything; she strained her ears but only heard the noises of the street below. Nikki’s muscles started to slowly relax again and she sighed, inhaling the leathery smell of the sofa.

“Looking for this?” a voice purred behind her.

“Hey! Hey! C’mon, buddy, up!”

Mark shot bolt upright in a scattered array of blankets and stared wide-eyed at the concerned face looking back at him. Julian’s dark face almost blended into the black room, but his brown eyes stood out and kept Mark’s attention.

“I’m awake. I’m awake. Sorry,” Mark gasped, heaving in air. His shoulder felt heavy and he realized that one of Julian’s big hands was resting on it.

Julian made an irritated noise and shook his head, pulling back. “Nothing to be sorry about.” He moved across the room and flicked on the lights.

Mark blinked and shrugged away the damp blankets. He winced. He was going to have to offer to wash those.

“Yeah there is. I woke you up, didn’t I?” He yawned and forced himself to get off the bed. After knocking into Rosa he’d kept going until he was stumbling and his muscles were burning, tired and desperate enough to call the one person he trusted enough to fall down at their doorstep.

Well… in spite of everything, there might be two of those people, these days.

Julian shook his head and propped his big hands on his thick hips. “Nah, you told me to wake you up. Don’t think four hours was enough, but your call, buddy.”

Mark stared at his friend, brain still moving sluggishly. “Oh,” he managed. It felt like he was processing everything through mud.

Julian narrowed his eyes and crumpled up his forehead. He looked angry, which meant he was worried.

“I’m making you some breakfast, Champ. C’mon, up. If you’re gonna be an idiot, at least you can have some food in you.”

Mark scrubbed a hand over his face, willing himself to wake up. “It’s been five years. Do you really still have to call me that?” Coming out of anyone else’s mouth, the reminder of the time he used to work more closely with the police would have twisted in Mark’s gut like a knife. Back then, all of the officers called Mark “Champ” even though half the officers Mark worked with were younger than him. It was teasing and affectionate, and it used to make him feel like part of the group. That had felt pretty good, back then.

These days, police officers mostly called him “Get out of here,” or, “Suspect”.

Five years had passed since he’d walked into the police station, determined and completely unwilling to admit to any nerves, but Julian’s flashbulb smile still looked exactly the same. “Course I do, Champ,” he said, with the same easy confidence Mark had admired back then. Julian jerked his chin pointedly in the direction of the kitchen and walked out.

Mark wanted to plant his feet, raise his eyebrows, and dare the world to take its best shot the same way Julian did. But he’d tried that whole throwing caution to the wind thing, and look where it had gotten him.

It had gotten him here, in the house of the only cop who would still acknowledge Mark’s name, running away from a woman who didn’t want him and a past he didn’t want.

Something metal banged in the kitchen and Mark smelled something rich and greasy. He grinned in spite of himself. It had been awhile since his last visit, but apparently Julian still had exactly one go-to dish.

“Bacon?” Mark asked as he stumbled into the kitchen. He glanced at his hair in the reflection of the shiny metal fridge and winced. He weighed his options and decided to avoid mirrors for the rest of the day.

“With a side of bacon,” Julian confirmed. “You gonna tell me what you’re doing here?”

Mark snuck a glance at the clock. Shoot. He really hoped Julian was working night shifts, or Mark was being a huge pain in the backside to someone who didn’t get a whole lot of extra sleep.

He shrugged. “There’s a case. Been doing a lot of hours on it and I guess I just lost track of time. Needed to crash and was on the wrong side of town.”

Julian’s arm stilled over the stovetop and he glared at Mark. “There’s always a case. Don’t practice playing stupid; trust me, you’re a natural. Why are you really here?”

And that was the problem. Truth was, Mark wasn’t really the type to show up unless he was desperate, hanging at the end of his rope. It wasn’t that he wanted to be a crappy friend - whenever Julian called him up and invited him to pool or a bar or whatever, Mark always dropped whatever he had going and went, no matter how many hours he wound up needed to make up for. But Mark didn’t really know how to ask for help until he had slipped down to the last knot on his rope and was hanging there for dear life. Actually, he didn’t really know how to do it now either, but luckily Julian was always willing to throw him a line and haul him back up the cliff.

A plate appeared in front of Mark and Julian slapped down a panful of bacon slices like it was vengeance for Mark’s pain-in-the-ass ways. Delicious, sizzling vengeance. Mark shoveled a piece in and immediately burned his tongue. Worth it.

“I hope your new girl feeds you better than this,” Julian said with a frown.

Mark immediately choked on his bacon and started hacking up a lung. Julian slammed him in the back with one of his huge hands, which helped not at all.

As soon as he could talk, Mark stared up at Julian. “How’d… you know…?” he croaked, wide-eyed and probably looking a little crazed.

Julian made one of those
you are a complete moron
grimaces that Mark was so fond of. “I’m a wizard,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “C’mon, Mark. You show up out of nowhere looking like hell, what did you think I was gonna guess? Last time you looked anything close to this was when… uh… when…”

His voice trailed off its usual boom unnaturally. For a moment the two of them stared ahead in silence, their mouths set in grim lines. Both of them remembered the last time it had been anything close to this in Technicolor precision.