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“No, Summer will leave New York soon anyway.”
“Sure, about that? Seems like Bhodi Grey might have an issue with that. They looked cozy earlier.” She raises an accusing eyebrow, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
My eyes narrow on Pamela. Both Jimmy and Axe look away their hesitation on the subject obvious, but she doesn’t seem too bothered by bringing it up. Leaning forward, I place my palms firmly on the table, my eyes fixed on Pamela.
“That’s my business, not yours, so keep the fuck out.”
She scoffs, shaking her head, and rolls her eyes. Throwing her hands up in the air in an exasperated manner, I choose to leave. Rising from the table, I down the rest of my beer before leaving it on the table and heading out the door.
Slamming the door behind me, I make it a few feet outside before the door swings open and the sound of footsteps approaches, trying to catch up. I swing around when I feel a hand on my arm pulling me back.
Pamela's eyes search mine. For a moment, they soften when she sees the conflict in mine. Taking a step back, she runs her fingertips across her lower lip.
“Look, you know how much I cared about Michael, and by default, I care about Summer, too. But you’re seriously messing with her head right now.”
“I’m…” Before I can interject, she raises her hand and cuts me off.
“You’re watching her when you’re not at the apartment. You let yourself in…the poor girl is probably terrified, but deep down, you know she cares for you. You stopped her from getting hurt and protected her, but you’ve told her she needs to leave, and she likely will.” She lets out a low breath, looking back at me. “But if I can see how you are around her, then so can everyone else.”
Rolling my bottom lip between my teeth, I allow Pamela’s words to soak in.
“Either you tell her everything, or you let her go and never contact her again. You’re being cruel, and it’s not fair on her.” Her eyes well with tears as she speaks, but her statement hits me harder than I thought it would.
The guilt and resentment I carry around towards myself seems to come barrelling over the hill and hits me hard. Unable to form words, I nod and continue towards my car. Pamela’s words play over and over in my head while my conscience begins to get the better of me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Bhodi?
It’s been a strange forty-eight hours. After Summer’s outburst at the church, I gave her a couple of days of space. The hurt in her eyes was too much to handle, but she didn’t seem to understand the law, and as a detective, I can’t just arrest someone on a whim, no matter how guilty I know they truly are.
I know her emotions were running incredibly high and no matter what I said, I would have just sounded like a condescending prick trying to reason with her. It’s an argument I really didn’t want to have, and If I’d followed her, there would have been a good chance it would have continued.
“Grey, my office now!” The captain hangs his head out of the office door before heading back inside.
Sliding a report to the side, I rise from my chair. Getting ready for another ass-chewing, I head inside. Surprisingly, I’m met with Captain Dean and a familiar detective from another precinct.
Entering the office, I idle in the doorway for a moment before the captain gestures for me to sit.
“This is Detective Daly; he’s working a missing person case. A familiar name popped up in the investigation.” He begins.
I turn to shake Detective Daly’s hand before taking my seat.
“Sure.” I shrug.
“Harry Maine.” The captain speaks first.
“He’s Summer Harper’s former fiancé.” I say without hesitation.
“Did you know he’s here in the city?”
“I do. He flew in a day or so after Summer. He’s been harassing her, but for now, she’s just hoping he’ll go away.”
“And has he?”
“No, he’s visited Michael Harper’s apartment a couple of times, but she refused to let him in. She didn’t want him arrested; she wants no contact with him.” Looking between the two men, I finally ask the question. “What’s this about anyway?”
“I got a call a couple of days back.” Turning my attention to Detective Daly. “An Alex Crane was reported missing. He didn’t turn up for his shift at O’Reilly’s. When a colleague went to his place, it looked like a bloodbath, but no body.”
