Chapter Six

Twenty-nine stitches in the deeper layer of skin across my abdomen, forty on top, and eight in the face. But Ghira had been wrong about the scarring, at least according to the doc who’d put me back together. And she seemed to know what she was talking about when she was stitching me up, so I was just going to believe her.

I fidgeted in the seat next to Grayson. He’d insisted on staying with me until I was done, and taking me home. While I appreciated it, a lot, I had something I needed to do. And not in front of him.

I watched out the squad car window as we got closer to my apartment. Everyone loved to talk about how much it costs to live in L.A. They’re right. I couldn’t afford to live in a ‘good’ section of town.

At least the place I was in now was more of a home than my last couple crash pads. Someone had taken an old house and split it into six apartments. It would have been drafty in any other state, but thankfully, this was California.

Grayson coasted to a stop outside of my house. He started to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“No, you don’t need to come in. I’m fine.”

He paused, but he stared at me.

“Seriously. It was just some stitches. The doc says I’m good to go back to desk duty tomorrow.”

“You should stay home for a couple of days. The sergeant saw what was going on. She’s not going to make you come in tomorrow.”

“I know what’s best for me, Grayson.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry. That came out harsher than I meant it. I’ll be fine. I’m going to go inside, call Kenzie, and then get some sleep.”

Slowly he clipped his seatbelt back on. “Fine. But you better text me in the morning and be honest about how you feel coming back to work. It’s just a job, Jay.”

No. It was purpose. It was something to do other than sit in a lonely house, wishing I was playing with my daughter.

“I’ll text you.” I opened the door and clumsily got out of the car. Not being able to use my core made movement of any kind difficult. Thankfully Grayson had sent one of the guys to get me clothes at Wal-Mart, so I didn’t look like a murder victim stumbling into the house. He hadn’t guessed well on the size, but I was grateful to be out of my bloody uniform.

I trudged toward the door of my apartment, trying not to drop the fast food bag Grayson had handed me when he’d picked me up with one hand and digging for my phone in my sweatpants pocket with the other. I hit the unlock button on-screen, then had to adjust my belt on my shoulder, the service weapon weighing it down and pulling on my stitches. But there was no way that gun was going out of my sight for a couple days.

Not that Grayson’s had helped at all during the fight, but at least my taser was on my belt as well.

The door unlocked and I waved to Grayson, who had stayed to make sure I made it into the house. He nodded and took off, probably headed straight for the station to get the gossip on our newest prisoner.

Ha. If I ever saw her again, it would be too soon.

I clicked the deadbolt back into place, sat my food on a small table in the entry, and leaned down to pull at my boot strings. Dang. I couldn’t bend over well enough to get them loose.

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Someone pounded on the door right behind me. I jumped and halfway pulled my gun.

“Jayla! Jay! Open this door right now!” My neighbor, and co-worker, Phoebe. Fifteen years older than me and in the business far longer than I had been, she’d taken me under her wing when I’d moved in beside her. Today she’d been working dispatch, so her being here might not mean Grayson had been a snitch.

Might not.

I punched the unlock button on my phone and let her in. There was no use trying to keep her out.

“Girl!” The door crashed open and Phoebe’s hands went to her black-clad hips. “You look worse than I thought you would! You tell me exactly what happened. I want to hear it in your words.”

Something inside of me broke a little. I bit my lip to keep from crying. “Can we go somewhere comfortable?” I headed for the small living room, glad the couch cover I’d ordered from Amazon had come in yesterday. Yeah, Phoebe and I were friends, but that didn’t mean I expected her to sit on the old stained couch that had come with the place.

I collapsed into the dish chair I had sitting beside the window to leave Phoebe with the couch. I ignored her dark eyes trying to probe my soul and bent down, working on my laces again.

Still no luck, even sitting.

Pretending to just knock some dirt off my boot, I held back a groan and sat back up.

Phoebe took a look around the room, and did a pretty good job of keeping the distaste off her face. Yeah. I still hadn’t picked up any of my personal stuff from my dad’s place, and the land-lord didn’t seem too keen on decorating.

A couch, a chair, and a TV with my gaming systems. What else did a living room need?

“Girl. Enough stalling. You tell me what happened today. When I heard officer injured on the radio, somehow I knew it was you.”

My smile probably wasn’t very believable. “It was crazy. Some insane fae chick killed a fae guy, then drug Grayson and me into Faerie. I thought we were both going to die.”

Phoebe’s eyes bugged half way out of her head. “You went to an entirely different world? And you aren’t freaking out right now?”

Did I admit to her that I was freaking out, just on the inside? That now that I wasn’t fighting for my life, all of the terror that should have been going through me earlier had hit me, hours worth of fear smashed into the last few minutes when I had a chance to be alone?

“It was quite an experience.” We hadn’t known each other long enough. Not yet. Not for all of those feelings, all of those fears to get vomited all over her.

“But you’re okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”

Ah, this seemed like a trick question. With the way gossip spread around the precinct, I didn’t see any way possible that she didn’t know I’d gone to the ER.

“Got bumped around a bit, but I’ll be fine.”

Phoebe raised her eyebrow in that way I’d only seen in movies until I’d met her. She totally knew. Good thing I hadn’t lied completely.

“Okay then. Let me whip you up some supper.” She bounced on the couch, working her way to the edge. Yeah, a new couch should be on the priority list.

“Nah, Grayson grabbed me something.” I hadn’t looked in the bag yet, but it was from In-N-Out, my favorite place to grab a late night snack when Grayson and I were working overtime. I had no doubt that all of my top picks were in that bag. It was near bursting.

“Do you need anything else?” Phoebe asked.

“I’m good.”

She gave me a look again.

“Seriously. Don’t you have to work early? I’ll be fine. But thanks so much for checking in.” When she started for the door, I leaned down to work on my boots again. Still no luck. Before I could decide if to ask for her help or not, she had the door wide open.

There was an awkward silence, so I struggled to my feet to follow her and find out what could have made Phoebe stop talking.

Grayson stood on the other side of the open doorway, hand in the air like he was about to knock, mouth hanging open. “Phoebe?”

“Yeah, who’s asking?” Phoebe went hands on her hips again. Whenever she got the slightest bit uncomfortable, she went all gangster. She had quite the interesting teen years to back that up.

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” Grayson’s words stumbled over each other. He’d had a quiet crush on Phoebe since I’d met him, always talking about how good her voice sounded over the radio. Apparently, he’d heard her through the door and recognized it. He leaned around so he could see me without getting into Phoebe’s space. “Jay. We need to talk.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Phoebe swung around to look at me. “Jayla, who is this man?”

“It’s okay, it’s my partner, Grayson. What’s up?”

He eyed Phoebe like he didn’t know if he should say anything in front of her or not. “Maybe you should sit down. Get off your feet.”

My stomach sank. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. It couldn’t be good. But I mustered what strength I had left and gave him a look that probably rivaled Phoebe’s from earlier.

He sighed.

“I don’t know how to tell you this. So I’m just going to say it. The fae. She escaped.”