Page 50 of American Sweethearts

He pursed his lips, jaw clenched, and I could see he was working hard on what to say next. He knew I fought dirty and I was in a mood where anything he said would be enough to set me off. A twisted, fucked up part of me almost wished he’d sent something to the guy without telling me, or that he’d say something to piss me off, because that way I’d have an excuse to pop off. To tell him to get out of my car, say something ugly, and end this right here.

“Morena, I’m not pushing you.” That bastard knew I melted whenever he called me that. “It’s just an opportunity. You don’t need to do anything with it. You don’t even have to call the agent. It’s your call. She read your blog, listened to your podcast, and loved it. I just want you to shine, and do what you love.”

That should’ve made me happy, glad that Juan Pablo was so into this part of me. That I had his support, but I didn’t. I felt stifled, my heart racing at the idea that there was a chance I could make a go of this. Because if I tried and I failed, I didn’t know what I’d do.

I felt the desperation crawling up my throat. I should’ve told him I was scared. That this felt like too much pressure, but instead I shut down.

I gripped the steering wheel hard, my eyes focused on the snow that was somehow thicker now. “I need to go to work.”

“Work?” He sounded baffled. Like he was sure he’d heard me wrong.

“I need to go to the precinct. I have responsibilities. I don’t have a grandfather with property all over the Bronx, Juan Pablo.” He flinched at that and I just kept going.

“I have myself and my work. If I leave the NYPD now to chase some fucking hobby because I’m unhappy at work, what will happen a year from now when it all goes south? Tell me, what?”

“It’s not going to go south.”

I scoffed at that, now fully invested in blowing up everything we’d managed to salvage in the last month.

“And if it takes longer to get off the ground, I am here. I am your partner, I’m on your team, Priscilla. We all are. So what if you have to lean on me for a little bit?” He tapped his shoulder and I could see that his eyes were watering. “You can lean on me. You can, I promise you.”

I shook my head hard, but I wouldn’t look at him. “I can’t, J, I have to go.”

“You’re running, Priscilla. This won’t work if you keep running.” He sounded so defeated, and let down.

“I need to go.” I was barely able to get that out. We sat there for a few breaths, then J had the last word.

“I will never stop loving you, never. But, Pris, I won’t be with you while you hold me at arm’s length. You love me, I know you do, but you won’t let anyone see your wounds, mi vida. I can’t stand watching you suffer and not do anything. I don’t want to take care of you. I want to love you. To live with you. To be your man, Pris, and to do that, you have to let me in.”

After that, he opened the door, the wind howling as he jumped out. “Please be careful, and text me just to let me know you made it home okay. I hope it works out at the precinct.” With that, he stepped out and I heard him get his bag out of the back before heading into his building.

I watched him until he went inside, and after rubbing the tears out of my eyes, I pulled the car out of the parking lot and into the snowy street.

I felt as desolate, as cold and gray as the streets I drove through. Juan Pablo had offered me everything I’d said Iwanted. He’d shown me that he could be the man I’d always said I needed. And in the end, I’d been the one to trample on it all.

chapter thirty-four

priscilla

“You can’t be here.” I’d barely walked in when Chase intercepted me outside of the interrogation room.

“What do you mean I can’t be here?” I was not in the mood for bullshit and Chase was really barking up the wrong fucking tree. “I just want to ask Mr. Baker a couple of questions,” I said shouldering myself into the observation room. He was still in there, looking slick as always. Three-piece suit on point, wing tip shoes, and dead eyes. His expensive lawyer sitting next to him, ready to pounce.

“Chase, are you going to tell me you think this guy is innocent? Look at him!” I said waving my hand at his smug face.

Chase let out a sharp breath and rubbed his eyes hard. “I know how to do my job, Priscilla. Antagonizing him isn’t going to get us anything.”

“I just need five minutes, just five, and I’ll fucking have him.”

“Gutierrez.” My back went up at the way the lieutenant called my name. He was never friendly, but he’d never been hostile. But right now, he sounded like the sight of me was making his blood boil. “You’re no longer assigned to this case. You’re not even on duty right now. Why are you here?”

That question hit me like a ton of fucking bricks. Whywas Ihere?

Chase was doing his job. Even if it wasn’t what I’d do, it wasn’t my call. That’s how things worked. I’d be furious if someone tried to come and overstep on one of my cases. I was acting recklessly because I was running. I was here so I didn’t have to sit with Juan Pablo and tell him about my fears. Or even more terrifying, my hopes. I could barely cope with the idea that in the last two days, I’d been basically handed two opportunities that could change everything for me. I didn’t know how to process the prospect of doing this differently. Of having to count on others.

Of having to rely on Juan Pablo.

“Priscilla.”