“Wanted your opinion on something. And I wanted to apologize. We treated you badly today, and I’m sorry.” Her gaze took in the room, noting the disarray, the broken bottle, the phone lying askew on the floor. Her eyes trailed to his face. “Really, Baldwin, you’re bleeding. Let me fix it up for you.”
“Leave it.” His voice was sharp, and Taylor froze four feet from him. He turned toward the kitchen, then spun back and landed awkwardly on the couch. Taylor could see exhaustion shadow his face. She dared a step, and another, then sat quietly in the chair, looking at the fireplace while he composed himself. Damn, she had barely gotten here in time. Maybe she hadn’t been in time at all; she didn’t think a quick chat was going to change the man’s mind. She decided to try anyway.
“You wanna tell me why I saw you through the window with a gun to your head?”
Baldwin shook his head, smiling at her. “Seems I just can’t win. I’ve been working this little project for a while now, and I keep getting interrupted.” He leaned back into the couch, covering his eyes with his crossed arms. “Every time I’m all set and ready, the fucking phone rings, or someone knocks. Really Taylor, it would have been better if you’d come five minutes later. You’d have assumed I wasn’t home, and seeing as the shot went off this time, I’d be out of this hell.”
This time. Oh, boy. She knew she’d have a job in front of her with Baldwin, just didn’t realize it would entail dragging him out of the jaws of Cerberus. She was shocked to see tears rolls down his face.
“I’m kinda glad I showed up when I did. You’d have been a hell of a mess to clean up.” Her tone was light, but the look she gave him wasn’t.
“Well, thanks, I guess.” He gave her the first genuine smile she’d seen since she met him that morning. God, it had only been a day, but she felt like he’d been under her skin forever. She let out her breath, suddenly aware that she had been holding it.
She gave him a small smile back. “Seriously, let me clean you up a little bit.”
“No, let it be. I’m fine. I want to know why you really came over here.”
He was staring at her so intently that she felt a shiver run down her spine. “To be honest, Sam had some news at dinner I thought you might be interested in. Some results from the tests on Shelby Kincaid and Jordan Blake came back.”
Baldwin looked at her with doubt. “And why do you think I’d be interested in any of it? I quit tonight, remember?”
“You can’t quit something you never started.” She was surprised at how bitter she sounded. Not exactly the tone to be taking with someone looked like he was prepared to kill himself a half hour prior. “I mean…”
Baldwin’s face had hardened. “I know what you mean, Taylor. You’re right. I didn’t want to be there, I didn’t want to work this case, and I certainly don’t intend to start now. Why don’t you take your do-gooding ass out of here?” He got up quickly and headed for the bedroom.
Taylor didn’t hesitate, ran after him, heart pounding. If he had a second weapon in there and was intent on finishing the job…
But Baldwin had only gone in the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. She let out a breath. Good. If he was going to tend his wound, he wouldn’t be trying to shoot himself at the same time.
“Baldwin, I…”
“I thought I told you to leave,” he said, not turning from the mirror, where he was gingerly dabbing alcohol on his cheek. “Damn,” he hissed.
“Come on, man, let me do that.” Taylor pushed her way into the bathroom and grabbed up the cotton before he could resist. She felt all the fight go out of him as he slumped against the counter. He didn’t resist when she finished cleaning the cut, pulled out a bandage and gingerly placed it over the wound. On impulse, without thinking, she reached in and kissed it.
Baldwin jumped and grabbed her wrists. “What did you do that for?”
Taylor was at a loss for words. She mumbled something and backed away. He let her go.
Baldwin turned and stared in the mirror. He shook his head, snapped off the light and followed Taylor’s trail. He could hear her in the kitchen, messing with ice. He sat on the couch and said nothing.
She came out of the kitchen with an improvised ice pack. She handed it to him with a shrug. He took it and set it carefully on his face. The cut was starting to throb. Taylor stood with her arms crossed, looking at him as if he were a ticking bomb that would go off at any moment. He met her eyes and gave her a weak smile.
“There’s Advil in the cabinet next to the refrigerator. Will you get me four?”
Taylor nodded. She needed to get out from under that gaze. She took her time finding the pills. She didn’t know what the hell she was doing, but as long as it kept the gun out of his hand, she’d keep doing it. She spied the revolver under the kitchen table. Picking it up gingerly, she checked the chambers, found them empty and stuffed the gun in the back of her jeans.