Page 54 of Carter

“My cases? I have a shit ton already.” I gesture to my table.

She puts them down on a barely empty corner of my desk and shrugs.

“I don’t know. It’s just what I was told to do.” She heads out of the office and turns into the hallway.

I pull the top one off. It’s dated from the 90s.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter under my breath. “What the hell is wrong with this city!” I call out loud enough that hopefully she can hear me out there.

Not that it’s her fault, but fuck. How are there so many cases that need my attention? I’m only one fucking person.

Of course, logistically, I know how. But fucking hell, this is ridiculous. We need more people on this. Way more than the measly two people they gave me. Pretty sure the only reason more cases are being slapped on my desk are because of them. I should have fucking known better.

I pick up my phone and send a text to Carter.

Me: Hope your day is going better than mine.

I put my phone down and get to my feet. I reach for the pile of folders and freeze, looking back at my phone. I narrow my eyes as I stare at the text I sent.

Why did I send that?

I sent it to him like we’re friends. Like we’re… more than what we are.

Fuck.

I move the files next to the copier. I’ll have to put in an order for another desk to give all these files space until I can get through them. I close my door and call my brother.

“Are your ears burning?” he answers.

I chuckle. “Not right now.”

I always told my brother that I call him when my ears burn, like it’s a sign to check on him since he’s a firefighter. It doesn’t actually happen, but having a reason to call makes it seem like I’m not worrying about him as much as I do.

“Why’d you call then?”

“Can’t I check in on my little brother?”

“I guess.”

“How are things? Did you win Miles back yet? I haven’t talked to you since you let me know you got home.”

“We’re both busy, Nash.”

I hate the way he sounds put off by my calling. But I’m the one who did this, who set the bar for our relationship and what it’ll look like. Protecting them from afar is the only way I know how to do it. If I get too close, I could hurt them. The same way our father did.

“Me too. But I’m calling.”

Pausing for a moment, he finally says, “Yes, Miles and I are together. We’re working things out.”

“Good. Glad to hear it. How areyoudoing? Any shit from the senator?”

He groans. “No, nothing from him either.”

That’s the nickname I gave to his piece of shit husband because he acts like a damn politician. Always has promises but never delivers, the prick.

“Even better,” I say, forcing a smile.

“How are you out there? Miss Chicago yet?”