Liv wanted to return to the hearth scene, however first she wanted a bathe, some espresso and breakfast.
When she arrived again at her house, she was exhausted, her steps heavy with fatigue. But, as she pushed open the door, any ideas of relaxation vanished instantly as she was met with an surprising sight.
Michael stood earlier than her, his presence a jarring intrusion. Liv’s coronary heart stuttered in her chest, uncertainty flickering in her gaze as she took in his look. His expression was unreadable, a masks of feelings rigorously hid beneath a façade of calm.
“Michael…” Liv struggled to understand what was occurring. He had a key—given to water her crops. However not free passage to her area.
The sight of him standing in her house ignited a surge of anger, eclipsing any hint of fatigue that had beforehand clouded her ideas. Her jaw clenched, her gaze hardening as she struggled to include the simmering fury that threatened to spill over.
“What are you doing right here?” Liv demanded, her voice laced with a bitterness she could not suppress.
Michael’s expression faltered, a flicker of damage flashing throughout his options earlier than he masked it with a practiced indifference. “I wanted to see you.”
Liv scoffed, her frustration effervescent to the floor as she took a step ahead, narrowing the space between them with a deliberate stride. “You wanted to see me?” she spat, her voice dripping with incredulity. “What’s so necessary it couldn’t have waited till I made it to the command heart?”
Her phrases trailed off. Liv’s fingers clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms with a fierce depth that mirrored the turmoil raging inside her.
“I believed I made it clear,” Liv continued, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. “There’s nothing between us, Michael. Nothing.” Her chest heaved with every ragged breath, her eyes locked with Michael’s in a silent problem.
“I do know,” Michael whispered as he took a hesitant step ahead. “However I needed to strive.”
Liv’s anger surged once more. “You needed to strive?” she repeated, her voice edged with disbelief and betrayal. The audacity of his confession, particularly within the midst of Jackson’s essential situation, ignited a wildfire of indignation inside her.
“How may you?” Liv seethed. “How may you suppose that now, of all occasions, is suitable to carry this up?”
Michael’s expression softened, his gaze pleading as he took one other step ahead. “Liv, I?—”
“Do not,” she interrupted, her voice laced with bitterness. “Do not you dare attempt to clarify your self. What does this imply for our work partnership?”
Michael’s gaze faltered, his expression clouded with remorse. “I do not know,” his disappointment mirrored her personal, “however I am unable to lose you.”
“You select now?” Liv’s voice trembled. “Amidst all of this, you determine now to do that?”
A flicker of regret crossed his options as he took a step ahead. “Liv, I am sorry,” he pleaded. “I do know it is not the proper time, however I could not preserve it to myself any longer.”
Liv’s tooth floor. “There are lives on the road, Michael,” she reminded him sharply. “Persons are relying on us, and also you select now to?—”
She stopped quick, unable to seek out the phrases to precise the depth of her frustration. She took a deep breath, her anger giving technique to a resigned willpower. “I am going to nonetheless work with you,” she conceded, her voice strained. “However solely on the workplace or within the command heart. We won’t let private issues intervene with our duties.”
Michael nodded, his expression grave as he met her scrutiny. “I perceive,” he murmured. “I am going to respect your boundaries, Liv.” He handed her the important thing.
As he left, Liv could not shake the nagging feeling there was extra to Michael’s confession than met the attention, a suspicion that lingered on the edges of her consciousness like a wisp of smoke. Michael could also be holding secrets and techniques much more harmful than she had imagined.
Twenty-Six
Liv’s fingers shook barely as she engaged the deadbolt on her house door, the echo of her argument with Michael nonetheless reverberating in her thoughts. Regardless of what occurred, she compelled herself to push it apart.
With a ragged breath, she shook off the lingering remnants lengthy sufficient to take a fast bathe and alter right into a pair of slacks and a comfortable sweater. Her reflection within the mirror revealed a weary lady, her options drawn with exhaustion however her gaze regular. Liv tied her hair right into a low bun and dabbed on demure make-up to cover her fatigue.
Earlier than she may head to the hearth scene, nevertheless, Liv knew she had a cease to make—a name she wanted to make to a good friend she trusted implicitly.
Liv reached for her cellphone and dialed the acquainted quantity, her coronary heart pounding in her chest as she waited for Brad Killian to choose up. They’d gone via the police academy collectively, and now he was a detective within the State Freeway Patrol’s Division of Prison Investigation—a useful resource she wanted now greater than ever.
“Brad,” Liv greeted him when he answered, her voice regular regardless of the underlying urgency.
“Hey, Liv. All the things okay?” Curiosity crammed his tone.
“I want your assist. Are you a part of the DCI crew investigating the arsons in Waverly Junction?”
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