Hetch (Men OF S.W.A.T. #1)

And I’m not getting any advice.

And now, I’m back to square one.



“You still awake, sweetheart?” I ask the wall, hoping tonight is the night she replies. It’s a few days after my first shift with Fox. I just finished my weekly session with Dr. Anderson, and even though I’m drained from working a ten-hour shift, and surviving the one-hour session with the doctor, I still find myself wanting to talk to Liberty more than anyone else.

“I know you’re there, sweetheart. I can hear your breathing from here.”

“Hetch, I’m really tired tonight.” Her voice is low and trails slowly, revealing her presence behind a wall that’s been acting as her emotional barricade. I sit up and move closer. It’s the sign I’ve been waiting for, a small step in the right direction.

“How long are we going to keep this up?” I ask, wondering how much more I have in me. I need to find a happy medium here. Liberty needs time but at the risk of jeopardizing everything, not too much time.

“Hetch, I told you, I need some time. You can’t push this.” It’s a deflection if I ever heard one.

Knowing I’m not going to get her this way, I'll try to hit her from a different angle.

“Do you remember the night I saved your life? You know, after I risked my own killing that huge spider for you?”

“I remember it differently, but yeah.” There’s a lightness to her tone, one I’ve missed so fucking much.

“I told you I had you figured out.”

My mind tracks back to the night in question, replaying the encounter over in my head.

“Yeah, what do you know?” She folds her arms over her chest and waits for me to elaborate.

“I know what sounds you make when you're lying in your bed at night playing with yourself.”



“You said something to me. Do you remember?” I pull myself out of my recap.

“Yeah.”

“What did you say to me, B?” I’m on the edge of my bed now. Hand to wall, I try to make any connection with her I can while I wait for her answer.

“I don’t know.” She’s hesitant in her reply. I know she’s lying; the shake in her voice a dead giveaway.

“Yes, you do. Like me, I know you remember every word. So humor me, sweetheart.”

“I said you know nothing.” She caves and the statement is becoming appropriate now. I have no idea about anything anymore, but I refuse to let it stop me from getting back what is mine.

“Right. And then I said, I might not know everything yet, but I know the important stuff.” The wall stays silent as I figure out where I’m going with this. “Ask me what I know now, Liberty.” A plan starts forming, one I hope works.

“What do you know, Hetch?” Irritation laces her question rather than arousal like it did all those weeks ago. Disappointment treks its sorry ass back to me.

You fucking dumb shit.

“I know I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you.” I let my confession hang in the air. Let the truth give us something to work with. “But I fucked up. I hurt you. You’re the last person I ever want to hurt. I know I’m haunted by my past, but when I’m with you, you take it all away. And most of all, Liberty, I know time is what you think you want, but it’s not what you need.” It’s Fox’s cocky statement, but it doesn’t mean it’s not the truth.

She doesn’t respond, her silence speaking louder than denial.

“I’m giving you a week,” I state plainly, deciding what’s best for us. I’m not smashing the egg; I’m adding extra warmth to move things along.

“That’s not how this is meant to work.” She fights it, of course, but I can hear the quake in her voice and my excitement spikes.

“A week, Liberty.”

Then I am coming for her.

“One week and then you’re mine.”





Thirty





Liberty





Hetch: I know you’re hurting, and I know I caused you this hurt. If I could take it all away, I’d do it in a second.



I read the text over, memorizing every single word he says, and stressing over every single word he doesn’t.



If I could take it all away, I’d do it in a second.



It’s not the first text I’ve received in the last few days. They started the night after he told me I had one week.

At first, I thought they were a little cheesy; I mean we’ve been there, done that, the night at the pub. But I played along regardless. Gave him his play, and ever since, I haven’t been able to stop reading them. Every day this week, I’ve received an “I know” message. And every day, he picks at my resistance and cracks my determination.



Hetch: I know you want to talk to me, but you’re too stubborn to cave. I love that about you.



Another text comes through. Another crack in my resolve.

Jesus, he’s right. I am too stubborn. I was stubborn when I asked for time. I didn’t want to put this distance between us.

So why did I ask for it?

Because you didn’t think he would give it to you.



Hetch: I also know I love the way you’re scared of tiny spiders, but you’re the strongest woman I’ve met.

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