Hearts of Blue Page 65

Right in that moment my gut sank. His anger was too sad to be angry at in return, and for a second all I saw was a hurt little boy. When I spoke, I kept my voice gentle. “I’ve tried talking to you about going clean, but you won’t hear a word of it.”

His mouth twisted as he gestured around us. “Because I’m in too fucking deep, I told you that!”

“I can help you. There are things we can look into, procedures.”

Lee laughed harshly, shaking his head, “God, look at you, still a fucking cop. Always a fucking cop. Can you just be on my side for one bloody second?”

Any tenderness in my voice vanished, and my expression hardened. “I was a cop long before I met you, Lee, and I’ve barely even scratched the surface of knowing who you are, so how can you expect loyalty when it hasn’t been earned?”

He bent his head to look me directly in the eye, his lips mere centimetres from mine. “Don’t pretend like you can’t feel what’s between us.” He paused, his voice dropping low. “I’ve been deep inside you, Karla. I know who you are and you know who I am. You’re just too scared to admit it.”

I shook my head, refusing to listen to him rationalise so irrationally. “Lee, we need to be smart. This thing we’re doing is going to destroy us. Look what’s happened already. I love being with you, but all this” — I peered at him despairingly — “it’s not worth it.”

He shook his head. “You don’t believe that.”

“I do. I believe it. I’m not going to tell you how to live your life, but so long as it stays the same, we can’t be together. I’m sorry.”

I took a step back and he let me go. Tears prickled at my eyes, but I refused to let them fall, not wanting to look weak. Lee’s features turned hard, his eyes thin slices of blue. We stared at each other for a long time, until the tension in the small room became unbearable.

“I have to go,” I said, turning on my heel and unlocking the door. Stepping out into the hallway, I found it was empty, the garage quiet now that most of the search team had left. Lee didn’t call for me to stay or come after me, and as I walked away from him, I brought my fingers to my cheeks, wiping away the tears.

Fifteen

Back at the station that afternoon, it was a rare occasion that I saw my dad. My emotions were still a little off kilter after what had happened with Lee, so I wasn’t sure I was fit to deal with my father. Luckily, he was there in a professional capacity, to debrief the team after the failed search. Not surprisingly, Jennings was nowhere to be seen, and I had to admit I was slightly disappointed. There was some weird part of me that wanted to see them interact, perhaps do something to prove that Jennings had been lying about their affair.

I sat at the back of the room in between Tony and Keira, listening to him talk about how the search was connected to a much larger case, the one he’d been working on to take down Tommy McGregor.

I could barely breathe as he clicked through a series of projected images, all displaying pictures and evidence on the powerful crime lord. It was suspected that the Cross garage was one of his main sources of high-end stolen vehicles, and they had pictures of all the brothers. My heart stuttered when a surveillance shot of Lee came on the screen. He was crossing the street, his phone held to his ear as he took a drag out of a cigarette. Tiny pinpricks tickled at my palms, and my mouth felt dry as a bone.

They’d misjudged the setup, though, suspecting that Stu was heading the operation since he was the eldest. Everything fell into place. Lee’s boss was McGregor; that was why he’d been at the warehouse the night of the rave.

“Unfortunately for the investigation,” my dad went on sourly, “information was leaked that the garage was to be searched today, which as you all know, resulted in the place being cleaner than a priest on Sunday.”

Little did he know, the source of that leak was me. I’d never felt more conflicted in my entire seven years on the job. When Dad finished up the debriefing, I stood on shaky legs and made my way to the front of the room, where he was talking seriously with one of the sergeants. I waited until they were done before approaching him.

“Dad,” I said, and his eyes came to me.

“Constable,” he replied formally, refusing to use my actual name. We never really spoke to one another at work, but it still hardened me inside that he couldn’t even bring himself to acknowledge that I was his daughter in front of colleagues. It was perplexing that I’d approached him at all, but for some reason I had the sudden urge to talk to him.

“Do you have time for a quick cup of tea?” I asked.

For a brief moment he looked disgruntled, put out by the idea of actually spending some small amount of his precious time with me. A few moments went by before he finally nodded, glancing at his watch. “Yes, but not long.”

“There’s a café across the street,” I suggested and got another nod.

We walked in silence out of the station and over the road, not speaking until the waitress had brought us our beverages. Dad studied me curiously, and a little impatiently, waiting for me to speak.

“I spoke to DI Jennings the other day. She told me some stuff,” I began, and Dad’s posture stiffened.

“That woman has no business telling you anything,” he practically grunted.

“I’ll take that as confirmation that what she told me is true, then, shall I?”

He turned away, staring out the window as he brought his teacup to his mouth and took a sip. I clasped my hands together, my stomach in knots.

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