I recognize that familiar light in his eyes, the one all rookies get at their first big arrest. The adrenaline stirs it. It’s the same light that dulls with each passing year on the force. I still have that light, too, flaring as bright as a lighthouse on the Jersey shore.
Joey leans forward, his hands clinging to the dash as the perp we’ve chased down for the last twelve blocks cuts a hard right and dashes down a cross street. Twice he’s slipped into the alleyways, trying to disappear. He’s local and knows the streets. Thing is, I know them, too. So each time Joey’s cursed, thinking we’ve lost him, I’ve kept my focus, forcing him back out where we could see him.
Our flashing strobe of blue and red smacks against his back. We’re getting closer. “Robbery suspect on the run near Stewart and Monroe,” I bark into the radio. “Officers O’Brien and Supreski in pursuit.”
I stomp on the brakes when we veer into the cross street and I catch sight of a door to an old warehouse slamming shut. “Suspect entered Old Mill Cannery at Stewart and Monroe, request backup. Suspect in black hood, dark jeans, possibly armed, repeat, possibly armed.”
“Roger that. Available units to Stewart and Monroe…”
Joey hits the ground running. “Supreski, wait.”
Joey flattens his back against the wall of the building. “Come on, he’s just a kid. We got this, O’Brien.”
I take the opposite side, leaning hard against the old brick. “Calm your shit,” I spit out. I know what he’s thinking, ’cause I’m thinking it, too. The perp’s a teen, a little guy. Probably trying to make a name for himself on the street. We’ve already cuffed his two older friends who’d held up the old mom-and-pop shop, left them with our backup, and tore after this guy.
“He’s gonna get away,” Joey snaps.
“No, we got this.” I count down with my fingers, three-two-one.
I throw open the door and find out just how wrong I am.
—
“Curran? Curran!” Tess’s arms are wrapped around mine, tugging me hard. “Are you all right?”
The hell I am. Pain twists my lungs like a clenching fist and cold sweat pours down my spine. I can’t see shit, which makes things worse. I’m drifting off into that fucking black sea, the one that threatens to pull me under and drown me.
“Curran, can you hear me?”
I clench my teeth. I don’t know where I am. But I know Tess’s voice and feel her presence. “It’s okay,” she whispers, her hand stroking my back. “It’s just a dream, you’re only dreaming.”
No, I’m not, baby.
My chest caves inward. I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe.
“Shhhh.” Lips pass along my shoulder, pressing soft kisses. “You’re all right. I swear you are.”
I don’t think I am. In fact, I know I’m not. If I were, this pressure building wouldn’t hurt so damn bad.
“I need you to wake up, okay?” she whispers. “Wake up for me.”
Nothing makes sense; my head’s spinning from lack of air. But I can hear her. She’s my lifeline, the one I grab when the agonizing second wave hits.
Son of a bitch.
It’s like something is pulling my ribs apart, cracking my bones to rip out my lungs and leave me barren. “Curran, stay with me. Please stay with me, sweetie.”
I force the pain away and I latch on to Tess—the intimacy of her voice, the warmth of her skin, and the subtle scent of her perfume, allowing every part of her to haul me back up and out of the darkness.
Slowly, that tightening fist releases its vicious hold.
I concentrate on breathing when I drag that first gulp of air deep into my lungs, allowing those soft kisses Tess trails along the curve of my neck to soothe me. She abandons my arm to wrap both of hers carefully over my shoulders. “Shhh,” she says quietly. “It’s okay.”
Lu’s right; it sure as shit isn’t okay. But I can’t let Tess know that, not now. Instead of answering, I work to draw in more air.
In the time it takes for me to calm, the cold creeping in from the windows cools my sweat-soaked body. Jesus. It feels like my skin is covered in a layer of frost.