“Her friend or her friend?” I wondered, trying to tell myself to calm down and doing a really shitty job at it.
When I turned my glare on Flint, it was to see him smiling.
“That’s not something that I’m privy to,” he admitted. “But I could always ask my wife.”
“Ask your wife what?” I heard from behind me.
I turned just as Flint did to see Camryn walking toward us.
Well, waddling was more like it.
She was very pregnant, and I had to admit, she was even more beautiful than the last time I’d seen her.
I didn’t know what it was about pregnant women that always flipped my switch, but seriously. I’d never been attracted to Camryn in that way, but seeing her like that? I felt my dick twitch.
Which was really quite weird seeing as I’d always seen her as my little sister.
“If my sister is dating that weirdo over there.” Flint pointed in the direction of the man and Carmichael.
“Alfie?” Camryn asked, trying to see around Flint and me.
I moved slightly so that she could see between the gap of our bodies, and she shrugged. “That’s her friend, yes. They’re not dating each other. Though, if I had to guess, he really wants in there. She’s clueless, however.”
We all turned to survey the two people in front of us, and yes, I had to agree with Camryn’s words. The guy, Alfie, did want in there.
He wasn’t going to get in there, though. Not if I had any say in the matter.
Stiffening my spine, I walked up to the two in front of us, leaving the two behind me to hopefully go away.
I knew they wouldn’t, though. I had no such luck.
As I walked up to Carmichael’s side, I watched her body.
Though she was trying valiantly not to appear as if she was paying attention, the way her body stiffened the closer I got said otherwise.
Just as I was almost upon them, the loser Alfie finally turned his head to see me approaching.
What a moron.
I tilted my chin up at him as I held my hand out for the computer. “I’ll take that.”
He blinked, but inevitably handed it over, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to think of me asking for it.
“Since I’m the one who gave it to you,” I told her. “I’ll go ahead and utilize the monthly payment I make to my computer guys and get them to fix it for you. If they can’t fix it, they’ll pull all of your information off of it, transfer it over to a new computer, and give it back. It’s part of the services I pay them for.”
I tacked on that last part when I saw her outrage starting to ramp up.
I had given her my computer.
It’d been my old one, actually.
A couple months ago her computer had gone out and she’d been bitching and complaining about it at the gym.
When I’d heard, I’d gone out to the car and gotten my old laptop.
She’d taken it, but had looked honestly quite pissed to be taking something from me.
At the time, I’d chalked it up to her being too proud to take it. But now I knew that she just didn’t want anything that belonged to me.
I really needed to figure out how in the hell I’d screwed up so badly with her.
Now that I wasn’t working a case twenty-four seven, I would have the time to figure it out. At least, I hoped that I would. I hoped that she gave me the time of day.
“Uh,” Carmichael said. “I guess thanks anyway, Alfie. I really appreciate you saying you’d look at it.”
Alfie looked over at me, then back to Carmichael.
“Uh, no problem.” He licked his lips nervously. But I didn’t miss the flash of anger that rocketed through his eyes at one point. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
Not if I could help it.
When I didn’t leave, Computer Geek Alfie took that as his cue to skedaddle, leaving me with a very irritated Carmichael.
“I can’t believe you,” she grumbled under her breath. “He’s a nice guy, Croft. What the hell was that?”
What the hell was that? That was me finally breaking the last thread that was causing me to hold on to my sanity when it came to a particular woman.
Instead of answering, I gestured at the car where Flint was now standing talking to her almost-assaulter.
She closed her mouth and her eyes formed into a squint as she hurried forward, her destination very clear.
We walked back over to the parked police cruiser where Flint was questioning the little punk that’d almost hurt Carmichael.
I walked up just in time to hear the last half of Flint’s question.
“…why’d you do it?”
The kid watched me approach, and he looked down.
Though, I wasn’t sure if it was because of Carmichael behind me, or because of the way I held myself. It could really be either option at this point.
“Someone, uhh, paid me to do it.” Bryan looked at me, then at Flint, then back.
He wasn’t sure which dangerous individual to focus on.
I didn’t blame him.
With how pissed I was, I knew for a fact that the anger showed on my face.
Flint’s did, too.
“Who?” Carmichael gasped. “And why would you accept?”
Bryan looked pained as he said, “I’m in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” Flint asked. “And does that negate the fact that you almost seriously hurt a teacher, who just so happens to be my sister?”
Bryan swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as he tried to think of something to say.
In the end, he decided to tell the truth. Which was good for him because I was working myself up to being quite pissed.
“Um, I don’t know.” He paused. “I…” He blew out a breath and scrubbed his cuffed hands against his face. “I got into trouble a couple of weeks ago. Some gambling debt. My father, uh, got himself upside down, and the guys that he owes the debt to said that he could pay it off if he rented me out. I run some errands for them. Do a couple of things here and there. And that was one of those things. I was told to, uh, hit her. Make it look bad. Make it bad. Break the computer and take it with me when I ran.”
I stiffened even further.
Flint, however, proved to have more self-control than I did.
He kept his voice slow and smooth as he asked, “Where did you meet these guys? How did they tell you what they wanted you to do?”
He patted his pocket. “I have a burner phone. They text me when they need me.”
“Did it ever occur to you to just tell me?” Carmichael asked. “Or Flint? Or someone?”
Bryan’s face took on a befuddled look.
“What would you have been able to do?” he scoffed. “The law is shit. Where was the law when my dad started to beat the shit out of me when I was four and my mom died? Where were y’all when I was hungry and hadn’t eaten in four days? When I got so hungry that I used to steal food out of people’s trash cans?”
Carmichael’s face went stricken.
“We didn’t know,” she tried.
“You might not have, no,” he agreed. “But the law did know. You know how many times I called the police on my old man? They’d take him away, put me in a home for a week, and then he’d be right back. Then he’d beat the shit out of me for allowing myself to be taken. As if I had any control over what those assholes did with me while he was in the slammer.”