Chapter 16

16

"That shit was wild." Riddle choked back a laugh and slammed the door to his locker.

"Did you see the look on Valentine's face?" Chip added.

"Priceless," Shiloh joined.

This was not abnormal. Locker room talk after serving a warrant. What wasn't normal was I'd never been on the receiving end of the shit talk while I had dog piss soaking my boot and the ankle of my pants. Further from that I'd never had a high as a kite naked woman attack me before.

"She wrapped him up and humped his vest." Mereno shocked the hell out of me by getting into the riot act.

Christ .

I was tossing my plate carrier and sterilizing my magazines.

"Never seen a woman crawl up a man so fast." Riddle lost the battle on his hilarity and busted out laughing. "V didn't know where to grab her to stop her from?—"

"Shiloh, out. I'm undressing."

"Should I bring back a hazmat bag for your clothes?" she asked as she made her way to the door. "Or better yet, set up the emergency drench shower in the parking lot? I think I spotted a snail trail on your mag pouches."

There wasn't a chance in fuck I was looking at my vest in case she was right.

I stripped as fast as I could, not caring if Shiloh had bounced. I'd given her plenty of warning. We all did when she was in the locker room with us and someone was going to do so much as change their shirt. The reverse was the same with her; when she wanted the room we bolted and locked the door.

"Holy fuck, brother, you go head-to-head with a cat?" Chip announced.

Fuck.

Riddle whistled his comment as he passed me on his way to the shower.

I knew the drill, ignoring them was my best course of action.

"You got an extra set of boots?" Mereno mercifully asked.

"Yep."

"See you at the debrief."

We'd already debriefed at the scene but there was still paperwork to file. And an incident report to fill out.

I placed my sidearm and knife next to my phone in my locker, shut the door, spun the combination lock, and headed to the showers without checking my cell. I'd washed my hands, used liquid sanitizer, but I still didn't want to contaminate my phone. I had dog piss, naked woman, and God knows what else growing on my skin.

I needed a scalding shower and a gallon of soap.

I stepped into the stall next to Riddle and got to work.

"All joking aside, you good?" my teammate asked.

I'd fucked up and let an occupant of the house get the drop on me. That shit was unacceptable. That was how people got hurt or worse.

"That shit will never happen again. You have my word."

"What are you talking about?"

I pumped the soap dispenser, uncaring I was using three times more than needed and before I was done I'd use half the contents.

"The woman?—"

"The woman," he repeated in disgust. "You had her restrained. Not one of us would've predicted she'd turn on you the way she did. And not one of us would've done shit differently when she hopped up, with her bare breasts in your face and started…" he trailed off.

I didn't need him to finish. I knew what she'd done. And if it hadn't been me but one of my brothers I would've laughed my ass off.

"I know what she did. But I hesitated," I reminded him.

"Again. Naked woman. Where were you supposed to grab her? You locked her down and contained her until Shiloh came in for the rescue. You know she's gonna hold that over you for the rest of your life, right?"

I owed Shiloh a bottle of liquor and whatever else she wanted in return for prying the moaning, humping woman off my chest.

"But that wasn't what I was talking about," he went on. "You've been…off for the last few weeks."

The ever-present tightness in my chest constricted into a ball of anxiety and anger.

"Everything's good."

Not an outright lie but still a gross exaggeration. The parts of my life that included Sophie were…mostly good. Except for the minor detail I was going to fuck this up and the best I could hope for was that I'd be the only one bleeding at the end. If Sophie could walk away unharmed it would be worth it. A few days. A few months.

I'd take all the goodness she was offering and drown in it. I'd drink it down like my father did with his booze and binge. I'd suck it back until the well was empty, then just like dear ol' dad I'd wake up one day in a mess of my own making and hate myself.

"So, are we gonna meet this one?" Riddle prodded.

The knot in my chest loosened at the subject change but the remnants of the guilt remained.

I was a selfish motherfucker.

"We're new," I evaded.

"Right."

With that, I heard the water turn off on his side of the wall.

I shoved all the unwanted thoughts of my father's latest bender and all the bullshit that went with it. Wondering when I'd get the call he'd dried out and couldn't find his car keys. I'd go by his house, "find" his keys, then we'd pretend he hadn't just spent a week stupid drunk and I'd take his keys to make sure he didn't drive anywhere while he was working through his demons with liquor. Then in a few months we'd do it again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Over and over on repeat. It never ended and it never would until his body shut down from all the punishment he'd inflicted. I'd long ago given up on him getting sober. Rehab was not what he needed. Gus Malone needed therapy. He needed to deal with the death of the woman he'd loved and the death of the daughter he adored. Until he did that, rehab was pointless. And Gus refused to acknowledge my mom and sister had once existed so he certainly didn't acknowledge they died.

I slapped the spigot all the way to the left, letting the water heat as hot as the shitty regulator in the locker room shower would allow and I scrubbed.

Unfortunately the scrubbing wouldn't wash away my father's problems, and no matter how much soap I used, the trauma of his abandonment wouldn't rinse down the drain.

Life was life.

Shame and fear.

The shame I wasn't enough.

The fear one day my father would drink himself to death.

When I got back to my locker, my dirty clothes were bagged and someone had left a container of bleach wipes on the bench.

Logically I knew nothing could penetrate the High Abrasion nylon gloves I'd worn during the altercation, yet I still wiped down the combo dial and latch before I opened my locker.

Instead of dressing I grabbed my phone.

I ignored the three calls from my father. I would've done that regardless, but six missed calls from Hayden had my gut twisting. I didn't bother listening to the voice mails or reading the texts. I hit his contact and four rings later he picked up.

"Fuck. Finally."

"Is Sophie?—"

"We're at the hospital."

Four words and I couldn't breathe.

"What the fuck for? Is she okay?"

I put the call on speaker and yanked clean clothes out of my bag at the bottom of my locker.

"She's fine, now," he clipped. "After you left she stayed in her room working. Khloe left and I went to talk to her and she was curled up in bed with a stomachache."

I had my pants on and was pulling on a tee when I asked, "Stomachache?"

"Yeah. Stomachache. An hour later I'm getting out of the shower and hear her yelling for me. I go in, she's shaking and holding her stomach. I thought it was her appendix or some shit. I brought her to Memorial."

I tied my clean boots, grabbed my side arm and knife, and was heading to the door when I prompted, "Was it?"

"No. We've been here for hours. Blood test, urine test, ultrasound. No fever. The doctor can't find the source, but she's feeling better and they're gonna let her leave."

"No way they have the results of blood and urine this fast," I noted, stopping in front of my captain's office.

"You're right, they don't, but the stomachache has gone away. So she'll be discharged soon. Where are you?"

"At the station but I'll be on my way to you after I tell my captain I'm leaving."

"We'll probably be?—"

"Do not leave that hospital until I get there, Winslow."

"Roger that."

I would've given him shit if he hadn't disconnected the call and my heart wasn't in my throat.

I needed to get to Sophie.

"Cap?" I called out and waited for his attention to come to the doorway. "My woman's in the hospital, I need to bounce."

He looked shocked but to his credit he didn't comment.

"I'll call in someone from Bravo. Keep me posted. Go."

"Will do. Thanks."

I jogged through the station and out to my Rover, ignoring another call from my father.

Shame and fear.

Neither took a fucking holiday.