The Little Death by Andrea Speed

Author:Andrea Speed [Speed, Andrea]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf

10

THE ambulance lights painted the buildings in lurid shadows of crimson and black, and if there had actually been people on this block, they’d probably have come out to look. But this part of town was as dead Spencer was.

I called Kyle right after the ambulance, but he arrived ten minutes after it, still not believing I could be in so much trouble in such a short span of time. When he saw me standing there with blood on my shirt, he came up to me with a gasp. “My God, are you all right?”

“Yeah, it’s not my blood,” I told him, pulling him into the lobby of my building for some privacy. Most of the guys out there were just beat cops who had no idea I’d already been at another crime scene, but they would find out soon enough, and I’d be lucky not to end up cuffed and shoved in the back of a black-and-white.

“What the hell is going on?” Kyle asked, brown eyes almost popping out of his skull. When he got exasperated, his eyes became wild things, and his dusky skin seemed to flush darker. “What have you gotten yourself into, Jake?”

“I’m not sure, but I intend to find out. Do me a favor, and take Sloane into protective custody. Not officially, though.”

“What the hell do you mean not officially?”

“Take him to your place, and don’t tell anybody, not even your partner, okay? It’s imperative you don’t tell another cop. Right now you’re the only one I trust.”

“This is crazy! You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know. But I think I know what I’m doing now.”

His look was so deeply suspicious it was honestly wounding. “I think enough people have been hurt tonight. You should come with me, and we’ll work this out.”

That almost made me laugh. What was there to work out exactly? But I knew he was just trying to help, save me from myself. He was good at that. I was touched that anyone beside my bartender cared. “I need you to trust me, Kyle.”

His exasperated look came back. “Trust you to get yourself killed? I think it’s high time you get some help here.”

I could tell he wasn’t going to let this go. One of the most endearing—and irritating—things about him was his stubbornness. I moved in closer, close enough that I could feel his body heat and smell the coffee he must have been chugging by the gallon. He took a tentative step back but then leaned forward slightly, as if to smell me. I bet I smelled like cordite and blood.

I cupped the side of his face and asked, “Do you love me?”

I’d caught him off guard with that. I saw the confusion in his eyes, and he looked for a moment like he might deny it, but of course he relented. “I wish I didn’t.”

I stroked his cheek with my thumb and tried to look as innocent as I possibly could. This was very difficult, as I’m not sure I’ve ever been innocent in my life.

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