Epiphany (Legacy of Payne) by Christina Jean Michaels

between Aidan and me. “Talk to you later, Mac.” He walked away, and the bounce in his step was gone; now his feet hit the floor in a way closer to stomping. I’d wager he wasn’t used to being told no.
    Aidan took the seat Brad had vacated. “He doesn’t seem too happy.”
    “Don’t mind him. He has this crazy idea that I’m datable.”
    “And you’re not?”
    I gritted my teeth, suddenly remembering why I was supposed to be furious with him. “No. I’m too jaded. Men keep proving to me how they’re big time jerks.”
    That earned me a wince. “Well, since you upchucked on me, I’m hoping we can call it even and declare a truce.”
    “I’m sorry about that,” I said. “I should have fessed up and apologized.”
    “No, I’m the one who needs to apologize. I’d probably be dead if it weren’t for you.” He absently folded a napkin into a small triangle. “You went out of your way to help me, and I was a complete jackass. Really, I can’t apologize enough.” He pinned me under the weight of his stare, and for a second I was certain he saw right through me, as if he could tell by one glance how I dreamed about him. “Forgive me?”
    My stomach clenched, and a voice in my head pointed out that for a jerk, his presence still made my skin tingle. I should have paid more attention in chemistry—there had to be a reasonable, logical explanation for this Aidan-induced psychosis I kept experiencing. It was those damn dreams. That was it. Mystery solved.
    A drift of cold air accompanied two deputies inside. “The police are here. They need to take my statement.”
    “The police?” Aidan knitted his eyebrows.
    “Yeah . . . actually, that’s kind of what I need to talk to you about.” I rose to my feet. “Are you gonna stick around for a while?”
    “Sure. I’ll wait for you at the bar.”
    I moved toward the deputies and Mike. They were in mid-conversation, and I realized with dread that one of the deputies was Judd. Something about his attitude just rubbed me wrong.
    He looked up from his notepad. “We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.”
    I couldn’t agree more, though I kept my thoughts to myself.
    “I’m beginning to think your middle name is Trouble, Ms. Hill.” His partner and my boss both gave Judd a funny look. “Oh, we met last night on another call,” he explained. “She’s got a knack for getting caught up in other people’s drama.” He went back to his notepad, pen at the ready. “So tell us what happened this time.”
    It took everything I had to give my statement in a calm tone. Mike put his two cents in every so often, and ten minutes later the deputies left, promising to keep an eye out for the guy.
    Mike went back to his duties, and I went back to mine. I approached Aidan. His hair didn’t quite cover the white bandage hiding the gouge I knew was there. “Can I get you something?”
    Something non-alcoholic.
    “Coke, hold the Jack,” he replied.
    I got his soda and then slid the glass into his waiting hands. “So, how much do you remember about last night?”
    “Bits and pieces.” He stared into the dark, bubbly liquid, seemingly lost in thought. I wished I could read minds instead of dream about things that didn’t make sense until after they happened.
    Dammit, this conversation wasn’t going to happen if I chickened out. I gripped the counter and leaned toward him. “Aidan, a guy was in here tonight talking about what happened in that alley.” I lowered my voice. “Did you know Chloe Sanders?”
    Aidan flinched. “No. I ran into her a couple of times before she . . .” He ran a hand through his hair. “What’d the guy look like?”
    “Dark brown hair, green eyes, on the husky side. He had tattoos on his arms.”
    “Sounds like her dirtbag boyfriend.”
    “Was he the one who attacked you?”
    “Honestly, I don’t remember. I wouldn’t be surprised though.”
    “What’s his name? I’ll pass it on to Judd.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure