Strange Addiction

All day long he’d felt her presence in the station. There was no way in Hell Jo would’ve come to his office while they were on the clock, not like she’d done back when they’d first met. Then they’d sought each other out, stealing moments together in the station or at the court house. Quiet corners that felt like they’d shield them from the job, from everyone around them, but hadn’t done either. Everyone back home had known exactly was going on, here he doubted more than a handful of people at the station were aware that the two of them knew each other, let alone that they were married.

A flicker of Jo’s gaze to meet his as he’d walked past her office, two seconds of attention, a smile you could’ve blinked and missed as they’d passed each other in the hall. There was about as much life to their marriage there as there had been at home – until they’d run into Doll at the grocery store. They hadn’t gone to the park that afternoon, but Jo hadn’t drifted away the moment they’d gotten home either. She’d hung around the kitchen as he’d cooked dinner for them that night, leaning back against the counter, questions training out about Doll, about their childhood. Digging away a layer at a time like she was trying to find her way through the archaeological layers of their friendship. Hell, Doll’s ears had probably been burning for days.

At four, Joel shoved back his chair and gestured at the clock. Ricky had probably been ticking off the time in his head until they were due to clock out, gauging his interest in their case by how many hours he put in. At his desk until midnight? Look at that, he’d found some loyalty again. ”Got an appointment,” he said tightly. ”I’ll come in early in the mornin’.” Undoubtedly Ricky would already be there at his desk. Maybe he’d stay there all night and would probably look just as starched in the morning. God forbid he ever end up rumpled. In contrast he felt that way right down to his bones lately, like invisible hands were trying to squeeze the vitality out of his life.

Jo’s office door was closed as he walked past, but he could see her through its window on his way towards the parking lot behind the station. Sat at her desk with their DA in front of her, the two of them so focused on whatever was spread on the desk between them that Jo didn’t see him go. Undoubtedly she’d have asked where he was going this time and the lie would’ve burned hotter on his tongue as he told her it than it had when he’d said them to Ricky just minutes before. If Ricky’s rats spotted him he’d know the story about the appointment had been bullshit before five o’clock even rolled around.

He had to know she was alright. Doll had been back from the lavish vacation Dacre had taken her on for a couple of weeks, but he hadn’t seen her yet. Pulling the car up in the square, he sat watching the club, s thumb nail jammed between his teeth. Gnawing at its edge, Joel stared at the front of the club, waiting for that flash of blonde hair. Doll might scurry inside without saying a word to him, but at least he’d know she was alright. She had told him she was worried for him, but the opposite was eating at him. If that son of a bitch had laid a hand on her, if he’d threatened her to get her to stay away … he’d break his veneered fucking teeth.

The square bustled around him, the sun making a slow dip towards the horizon before he gave the wait up as a lost cause. The upstairs bar manager had come through already, couple of others too, if he stayed much longer, someone would realise the place was being watched and Ricky would come for his badge when a report was put through to the station. Harassment, intimidation, it was all bullshit, but enough of it might stick that he’d be off the case and he had to be there to slam the damn door on Hector.

Puffing out a deep breath, Joel drove home. Later he’d try calling Doll again, see if she’d pick up this time, at least long enough to just tell him that she was alright. The grim expression settled deeper and deeper as he parked up behind their building and headed up in the lift. His mouth was a thin line by the time he got to the apartment door. Jo might’ve changed her schedule a little, but he still expected her to be down at the station when he walked into the apartment and kicked off his boots by the door. The whisper of movement deeper into the apartment had him pausing though, his hands clutching the front of his jacket, the fabric half peeled off. ”Thought I’d have time to cook before you got back,” he called out, lamenting the days when he’d have eaten it alone, except for his thoughts, at the table. ”Things wrap up early with the DA?”

Pushing himself, he hung up his jacket and padded back towards the bedroom. Could he really start bitching about his wife being attentive again when he’d spent more than a year trying to get her to take an interest in their marriage again? That weight on his chest said hell yeah. Joel lifted a hand to rub at it as he reached the open bedroom door. ”Figured I’d make meatloaf…” Doll’s mom’s recipe, wasn’t like his own had been there all the much to try and show him how to cook. The broad hips should’ve been enough to have the pieces slotting together in his head, but it took the waning light spilling in through the parted drapes highlighting the tumble of blonde hair to do it. ”Doll?” She’d come back now? To the apartment? Fuck.

Tagged: HANNYA * Word Count: 1011