25. Trouble Lurking
Excerpted from Hollowpoint
The locker room was empty, it was almost quiet. The precinct was always quiet at this time of morning. Danny smirked to himself; the darkest before dawn cliché always popped into his head when he was in this early for no better reason than to work off frustrations of the job. Whoever said police work was easy had never tried being a homicide detective in Chicago.
His hair was still wet, dripping and leaving water beaded along his shoulders as he slung his towel over the locker door and rummaged inside looking for a clean undershirt. His hands found it just as the hair on the back of his neck rose and the chill of a breeze wafted over the water droplets along his shoulders. He straightened, turned curiously. Few people used the precinct's gym this early.
And when he did he found himself staring at the amethyst eyes that had haunted his dreams for twelve years.
"The Captain said I'd find you here," she offered, a white flag of truce.
Sam. He wanted to say it, wanted to scream it. But he knew he wouldn't. Instead he addressed her the same way he had since she'd shown up three weeks before. "Manson." Cordial, polite. Never betraying how much it hurt to look at her and know that she didn't know who he was.
"Dan, I wanted to talk to you…" Her voice trailed off, and Danny watched Sam as she took a step towards him, eyes glued to his bare torso.
He hadn't been uncomfortable with his scars in years. In fact, he'd gotten very good at passing them off as badges of the job. Only a handful, maybe two, were from the year he'd walked beat in the rough parts of the city. Everything else… Everything else was from the life he'd left behind. Not that he ever told anyone that. But the way she was looking at him, the second and third and fourth step that brought her close enough to reach out and touch, those nearly frightened him.
And when she did touch him, fingers tracing a pale curving line that ran from mid-chest underneath his left arm, she looked up at him. "I… I know these scars."
He tensed and stayed silent, knowing that anything he said would shatter the fragile peace he'd contrived with her sudden appearance. But he supposed it didn't matter, it couldn't matter, because he could see the shift in her deep lilac eyes as she looked up at him. She knew. She knew and there was no going back.
Sam looked up at him, and Danny fought for breath as he focused his powers to keep from sinking into the floor. "I—You knew me, didn't you?"
Oh, Sam.
Danny's heart thundered in his chest as he looked down at her and fought with the sudden desire to hold her, to wrap his arms around her and fix the broken and hurt look in her eyes. To kiss her, beg her forgiveness for doing this to her, offer himself up in her place. But that hadn't worked even when he'd tried it. Instead, all he could do was close his eyes and bow his head, trembling beneath her touch.
"Yes," he muttered harshly. "I knew you."