Delilah's Scandal (The Cove Sisters Trilogy #2) - Sienna Mynx Page 0,2

and his thumb slipped out. She gasped for air as her lids fluttered. She called his name and spoke words of love for him in Spanish, giving him her body without much of a fight. So he pretended to love her as well. He dropped on her and conjured images of his wife and how beautiful she was before and after they made love. He did that and felt comfort in Camille’s arms because she didn’t seem to mind. Together they climaxed. Maverick dropped over to his back and sighed. He inhaled. He sighed again. The feeling of comfort and support soon slipped away.

“Hey? I was thinking we’d get out of here. Go and visit my grandmother in the DR? We can stay at the cottage my father built for her after the hurricane. She’s alone. It’s close to the sea. I have some time I can take, and Chief Connelly said, you have to take time too. What do you think, Maverick? You need a break. Right? We should take one. Right?”

Maverick stared up at the ceiling. He shouldn’t be fucking Camille. When Melissa was alive, they were friends. Best of friends. When she and the baby died, Camille took the loss of them both just as hard. She was the only person that understood his grief. Now she wasn’t just his partner; she was his last connection to a life he didn’t give a shit about.

“Maverick?” she whispered in concern.

“Whatever you want,” he said. He got out of bed to escape her. To not hurt her. To not have to pretend to care if he did hurt her. He went to the bathroom. He turned on the light and stared at himself in the mirror. Who he was, he didn’t know. He did know he wasn’t a husband or a soon to be father. He was a cop. That’s all.

SEVEN WEEKS LATER

“Do you know why you’re here, detective?”

Maverick glanced at the man behind the desk. Blue suit, red tie, white shirt. Was it supposed to portray some form of patriotism or authority? He didn’t know. He just knew it was a facade, like the order for him to undergo psych evals before he returned to the task squad.

“Do you know why you’re here?” The psychiatrist repeated.

“I have to meet with you to decide if I’m fit for active duty again,” he mumbled.

“And?” The doctor asked.

“I need to express remorse for my actions,” he mumbled.

“You saved a young mother and her child. However, your team killed eight men in that raid, two of them done by you when you illegally entered the home. But the gang descended after the shooting, and your team responded with equal force. Your file says you continued firing after you were ordered to stand down. That was more killing than you’d seen your entire time on the force. That has to have affected you.”

“It hasn’t,” Maverick replied.

“How as the Dominican Republic? Your file said you spent three weeks there.”

“I did,” he replied.

“And since then?”

“I’ve been home,” Maverick replied.

“You’re a good officer. I understand that night got out of control. You were under fire. But you were also only three months out from the death of your wife and son when you charged into that house.”

“It was a girl,” Maverick said and narrowed his eyes on the doctor.

“Forgive me—your daughter. You could have PTSD over your loss. Over everything. I’m prepared to give you more time to—”

“I don’t need it,” he replied. Melissa stood by the window. She stared at him with sympathetic eyes. The peach gown she wore was stained with blood this time—right below her swollen belly. There was always blood in his dreams.

“Detective Lennon?”

He glanced from the ghost of his wife back to the doctor.

“This is not easy. The job, the responsibility. If you need more time, request it.”

Maverick blinked.

The doctor sighed.

“Your superiors want you back in the field. I’m told to clear you. I feel that—”

Maverick stood and refused to be dismissed. For him, the deal was done. Fuck the doctor. Fuck the force. Fuck the world. He was ready for whatever came next.

BRONX, NY: JUNE 2018

“How the fuck did you get in here?” José asked while in front of a dirty mirror and stained urinal. The other men inside the club’s bathroom taking a piss glanced up as well. Maverick heard one say ‘la Jura vato, run!’ as he marched right past them. The two raced for the door shouting for their gang.

José Garcia smirked. An enforcer from the ALKQN,