“I’m sorry I lied to you. I figured you’d freak.”

“You figured right, and I plan to beat the crap out of you as soon as you’re out of here.”

He laughed and then winced. “Thanks for the warning.”

“You have a right to a life outside the job,” she said begrudgingly. “But don’t ever let anyone shut off your phone again, do you hear me?”

“Don’t worry. Lesson learned the hard way.”

“So, you want to see her or what?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I really do.”

“Oy vey,” Sam muttered on her way out the door to get Elin.

Sam pulled on to Ninth Street at three-thirty in the morning, nearly twenty-four hours after she received the call about Sinclair. Parking between her father’s house and Nick’s she debated as to whether she should wait until the morning to confront Nick. Then she looked up and saw the light on in his bedroom.

“Now,” she whispered, her breath a cloudy puff in the cold air. “I won’t sleep if I don’t.”

She used her key in his door and dropped her coat on the sofa on the way to the stairs. In his bedroom, she found him sitting up in bed asleep, a whiskey bottle on the bedside table, his hair a tousled mess and his jaw sprinkled with whiskers. She’d never been so happy to see him.

She contemplated whether she should wake him and hated not knowing if she’d be welcome. She decided to let him sleep. After a quick shower, she shut the light off and slipped into bed.

Lying there next to him, Sam felt lonely for the first time since they’d been together. More than anything, she wanted his strong arms around her. She wanted him to tell her that everything was going to be all right the way he always did. It was unsettling to realize how much she had come to depend on his steady presence. How would she ever go back to living without that? Without him?

She snuggled up to him, dropping soft kisses on his chest.

He came to slowly, and his whole body stiffened. “What’re you doing?” he asked, trying to get away.

She held him tighter, knowing if she let him escape now he might never come back. “I need you, Nick.”

“I told you. This isn’t going to work.”

“Yes, it is. It works on every possible level.” She caressed his chest. “I know you were scared earlier, and I’m sorry about that.” His silence grated on her already frazzled nerves. “Talk to me,” she said, punctuating her words with kisses. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”