Page 19 of The Unforgiven

“I don’t know.” I wiped the tears away, trying to blink any that hadn’t fallen back in. “Maybe it was how she died.”

“The body?”

I nodded. “It would’ve been brutal.”

“It would.” He pulled me into him, a hard hug. “But it wasn’t you.”

He’d said those words before. Many times. He’d say them many more too because there would never be no violent crime. There would always be victims.

I would always have a job.

“It wasn’t.” I rested my head against his shoulder, feeling my breathing ease, my heart rate come down, leaning into him, inhaling the scent of his body wash or cologne. “Thank you for that. I know you hate doing it.”

He’d told me once he didn’t like those sessions, because there were times when he saw flashes of fear in my face. I’d never told him why; only two people knew. No one else had any right to that information.

“I do. But I think it’s the only time you let yourself be vulnerable, apart from now.”

I realised he was still hugging me.

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologise. I like a good hug. I don’t think you have enough of them. Maybe I should offer that as a free service – training session and a hug as a perk.”

“I’d be careful with that. Some poor person might have a different idea about what a hug is.” Maybe they wouldn’t and I was just too used to dealing with weird people.

And working with them.

I stepped away from him, aware of how sweaty I was. “You might need a shower.”

His eyebrows raised, that cheeky smile that he must’ve perfected as a teenager, shone. “You offering to join me?”

He’d made that crack before, but I was sure he made it with everyone. “One day I’ll say yes.”

“I’m living for that moment, Mia. Just living for it. You sure you’re okay?” he passed me a bottle of water.

I downed half it while nodding. “I’m fine. That was good. Not too long now and I’ll have you on your back.”

There was a nod, but I could tell he didn’t agree. “You won’t do that until you’ve dealt with whatever shit’s going on up there.” He tapped his head. “There are split seconds when you’re too in your head and that’s when you lose any advantage, so you have to work too hard to pull it back. You know the moves, you can out psych anyone, but you need to be fully present and in the room.”

I nodded. “Agreed.”

“I can’t help you with that.”

“I know.”

“Only you can do that.”

“True.” I put the empty bottle in the bin and picked up my bag. “Wednesday? Can you fit a session in the morning before work?”

“Just text me.”

He was quiet until I got to the exit. “Mia.”

I turned around.

“Why did you quit gymnastics?”

It’d taken him five years to ask me that question.