Page 62 of Breakaway

“That’s not what I’m hesitant about,” Briggs responds, his hand scrubbing the back of his neck nervously. “She’s already a talking point for the entire country. This case has the internet sleuths out in full force, and they’re picking apart every person involved in hopes of discovering something the FBI has overlooked so they can have their fifteen minutes of fame. What do you think they’re going to say about her when her romantic relationships are brought into question? What about when they realize that one of those partners was directly involved in her case, and now she’s living in his home? It won’t be long before her pregnancy becomes public knowledge as well. Even if the online community doesn’t turn against her, Ada Stillwater won’t hesitate to use it as a tool to sway the jury’s opinion.”

I clench my jaw so tightly my teeth ache. I hate that he’s right. But the alternative is that we wait, for years possibly, until the hype over the case has faded and Andi’s every move isn’t being scrutinized. Even if we wanted to put her reputation above our own desires, I doubt she’d allow it. Andi’s had enough of people telling her how to act and what she can and can’t do.

“I think if the four of us can agree to give this a try, then we let Andi decide if she’s willing to suffer the possible consequences. I refuse to be another person in her life who takes her choices away,” I voice passionately. “We’ve been fortunate that she’s stayed under the radar as well as she has. And while there might be a lot of online chatter, all we can do is worry about the things that are within our means of controlling.”

“Agreed.” Briggs nods begrudgingly, dodging an elbow to the face as Hudson uses his body like a jungle gym.

“See,” I jest. “The two of us can get along.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves me off. “Just don’t forget all your talking points when you bring your grand idea up to Col and Dayton. They’re going to take a lot more convincing than I did.”

“Oh no,” I jest, climbing to my feet so I can retrieve my shirt. “We’re a team now. We’ll be tackling the two of them together.”

“Are you saying…” he trails off, glancing around conspiratorily. “That you want to tag-team the guys?” His hand clamps around an invisible strand of pearls, pretending to be scandalized.

“It’s good to know that’s where your head went, but sorry to disappoint, I’m only interested in pussy. Specifically, Andi’s pussy,” I retort, shooting him a smirk while buttoning up my shirt.

“Familiar with it, are you?” he drones.

“Unless she decides to tell you herself, that’s none of your business. But let’s not pretend that you aren’t as well. Maybe keep the public fucking to a minimum, though, yeah?” His brow raises in question, but he doesn’t seem too bothered by the fact I know what he and Andi got up to. “And don’t you dare make her feel bad about what you overheard this morning.” I hold his gaze, letting my seriousness bleed through while striding to the door. “I’ll be back this evening. Make sure Andi gets a few more hours of rest. And Briggs?” I stop at the threshold, making sure I have his full attention.

“Yes, Detective Hardass?” he simpers, batting his lashes at me.

“Whether or not you’re in my bed tonight, I plan to be there as well.” His bark of laughter follows me out the door.

“‘Bout time you stopped playing the role of a cuck! Submissive doesn’t suit you,” he yells after me, loud enough for half the damn street to hear.

Fucking idiot.

After speaking with O’Connor, I shoot Mia a text around lunchtime and ask her to meet me at McKellan’s, a local sandwich shop a couple of blocks from the precinct. It feels like this day has already lasted a lifetime, and the last thing I want to do is listen to my sister give me the third degree. Parking my truck, I scan the street for anything that looks out of place. Chaplain has become a hub of activity ever since news of the case broke. Wannabe investigative journalists have flooded our tiny southern town, and a few of them have been pushing the boundary of polite inquisition. The bell over the door chimes when I enter, and I immediately spot Mia at a two-top bistro near the back.

“Little brother,” she greets me, her tone noticeably lacking any warmth.

“Mia,” I sigh, taking the seat across from her. “I’m sorry I haven’t called. It’s been a crazy few months.”

“You could say that again,” she snarks, crossing her arms and bracing them on the tabletop. It’s her no-nonsense lawyer stance, and I mentally prepare myself for the ass-chewing she’s about to deliver. When she says nothing at all, choosing to sit there and let me stew in the discomfort, I start to squirm. Sighing audibly, I begin speaking, belatedly realizing she just used my own tactics against me. You’d think we were both trained in the art of interrogation, given how adept she is.

“Her name is Andilyn Adams. You’ve probably heard of her.” I let my statement hang between us, watching Mia’s face blanch, her shock and worry bleeding through her expressive features. “It started eight months ago, when Andi and I first met…”

I spend the next hour filling Mia in on everything that’s taken place since that fateful day at the Farmer’s Market. I explain how Andi and I grew closer with every weekly check-in, how the bond we’ve formed is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I tell her about the guys and the roles they’ve come to play, all while watching every minute reaction that graces her face. Without even realizing it, it dawns on me that I’m searching for any sign that Mia will be a threat to Andi. Not physically, but emotionally.

I know how protective my sister can be. We get that trait honestly and straight from our father. She’s likely questioning how much of an adverse effect this has had on my life, what being a part of Andi’s story will mean for my future, and the career I’ve worked so hard to obtain. I haven’t come out and blatantly confessed that we’re involved romantically, but my sister knows me. She’s well aware that I wouldn’t risk everything if my feelings didn’t exceed a simple, run-of-the-mill crush. She rapidly taps her pointer finger and thumb together, a nervous tell that she wants to say something, but she’s worried about how it’ll be perceived.

“Just spit it out, Mia,” I tell her calmly, tempering my desire to be defensive.

“And the man she was sleeping half-naked in your bed with? The child she’s carrying?” She raises her eyebrow, daring me to refute what she walked in on and saw with her own two eyes.

I debate how much to tell her, but truthfully, I’ve barely gotten used to the idea of sharing Andi, and we’ve yet to even discuss it with Col and Dayton. It doesn’t feel right to divulge our business when we haven’t agreed, as a group, how we’d like to go about that. For the time being, I think it’s best I keep things vague.

“I’m in love with Andi, and my feelings for her aren’t contingent on whether or not she reciprocates, or even if she feels that way for someone else. And the baby isn’t up for discussion. That’s as much as I’m willing to share on the matter. For now,” I state, watching as Mia opens and closes her mouth several times, at a loss for words.

“Fair enough,” she eventually responds.

“Besides catching you up to speed on my life, there’s actually another reason I wanted us to meet today,” I hedge.

“Of course there is,” Mia jests, rolling her eyes at the fact I’ve lured her to lunch under false pretenses, though she isn’t innocent herself, considering she hopped on a plane with the intent to insert herself in my life.

Well, congrats, big sis. Consider yourself inserted.