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He snorted. “All I’ve done is—”
I ended the call. I couldn’t maintain a conversation with him right now. He’d understand.
I stood up, walked to the corner and lowered myself to the floor, drawing my knees up to my chest. I buried my face and struggled to draw in long, even breaths.
I wanted to cry.
But I was at work. Surrounded by detectives who’d notice my red-rimmed eyes immediately. I couldn’t risk it.
I allowed myself a few minutes to silently fall apart, and then I scrambled to my feet, straightened my clothes, and headed to Captain Thackery’s office. I knocked and waited for him to invite me in before opening the door.
“Captain, I’m not feeling well. I’m going home early.”
His eyes widened. “What about the Sloane case?”
“Hanson has it under control.”
“But—”
“Sir, I will be of absolutely no use to you if I stay here.” I rubbed my temples, which were already throbbing.
“Fine.” He obviously didn’t like it, but I rarely took time off, so he had no legitimate reason to argue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.”
I left his office before he could change his mind. I stopped at my desk to let Hanson know I was leaving and then packed my bag and drove home.
When I arrived, I half-expected to find the blond woman on the sofa, but the living room was empty. I frowned. With everything Zeke had told me, the blonde had slipped my mind earlier. Now, I wondered whether she was a colleague of West’s, meeting under the guise of a date, or perhaps his real girlfriend.
Did he have one of those? I should have asked Zeke. I hated to imagine it, but it was possible there was a wife or girlfriend waiting for him.
I dropped my bag on the living room floor and went to the spare bedroom, where we kept our home gym equipment.West was running on the treadmill, his feet hitting the machine in a rapid rhythm. He was facing away from me, so I took a moment to appreciate his muscular back.
My fake husband was fit as hell.
Of course he is. He’s a goddamn undercover agent.
Yeah, that would take some getting used to.
I must have made a sound because he glanced over his shoulder at me, then paused the treadmill. He jumped off and grinned as he came in for a cheek kiss. I dodged him and crossed my arms defensively.
“Hi, Westley.” I raised my chin. “Or should I say, it’s nice to meet you, Weston Conti?”
His face fell and he backed up a step. “How did you find out?”
My heart cracked. He wasn’t even going to deny it. Not that I wanted him to lie to me any more than he already had, but for some reason, it would have soothed me.
“You admit you lied?” I wasn’t about to tell him where my information had come from. He’d probably figure it out soon enough.
His jaw firmed. He moved forward again, reaching for me. I darted away. I couldn’t stand to have him touch me.
His hand fell to his side. “I did. I’m sorry.”
I huffed in disbelief. “You think saying sorry is enough to fix this?”
“No.” His hand twitched, as if he might reach for me again, but he curled it into a fist at his side instead. “I never wanted to hurt you, sweetheart. It kills me that you had to be part of this.”
“I didn’t have to be part of this.” My nostrils flared as my temper rose, and I did my best to squelch it, so he wouldn’t see just how upset I was. “You chose to involve me.”
