BECKETT

The second she shut the door behind her, she realized what a huge mistake she had just made. But she ignored the feeling and pushed past the guards by the elevator.

"I'm going home," she grumbled. She stepped into the elevator and held up her hands to stop them from following her.

"You can take the next one. I'll see you at my place," she told them, pushing the button to close the door.

It was raining when she stepped out onto the pavement and she cussed under her breath. Perfect timing. Even nature was conspiring against her.

Fortunately, she hailed a cab quickly, and within twenty minutes, she arrived at her apartment.

The minute she stepped in though, that feeling of making a huge mistake came back. Her desire to be alone had driven her here, but this was the last place she wanted to be. All she could think about was the attack and she had barely made it through the front door. How she was going to sleep in her bedroom, she didn't know.

More sad than angry now, she closed the door and sank to the floor, her long legs stretching out toward the living room. She glanced up at the books on her staircase and wasn't surprised when thoughts of Castle began filling her up again.

All of this—all of it—was because of a book. Ridiculous, she thought, until she remembered that a book had brought her and Castle together originally. She had never thought of books as powerful—entertaining and comforting, yes—but not powerful enough to alter the course of someone's history.

She had been wrong though. From her crush on Richard Castle, the author, to the real love she now felt for Rick, her partner, his books had changed her life. She had half a mind to pour herself a glass of wine and pick up a book right now, anything to escape from how awful she was starting to feel about leaving his place.

What she had felt back at his place though was outrageous—it was literally out of rage. When Captain had told her that she wasn't to come back to work until this was over, something deep inside of her just erupted. After all that had happened, all she really wanted was to go back to work as soon as possible.

She felt good at work—right. She knew her place there and how she was supposed to act and feel. At work, she never lost herself—she was anchored. Plus, she was at good her job. She had Lanie. She had Espo and Ryan and—damn, she thought of him again.

Her head dropped then. She felt the tightness in her shoulders and knew, if she was with him, he would offer to give her a backrub.

What is so wrong with that?

She wasn't normal. She saw that now. She had barely moved an inch in three years and Castle had practically flown across the universe to be with her. He had left nearly everything behind to become the kind of man he thought she should have. He had contorted himself, all because of her. It was no judgment on him, of course. She was the monster for allowing it to continue, for refusing to bend, even a little.

Even if her reasons for keeping them apart were still sound—her baggage, her inability to open up, her obsession with her mom's murder—she was losing the will to fight her feelings. Even before all of this had happened, she had been thinking of leaving Josh. Even if she and Castle were always going to be friends, she couldn't hurt him anymore.

An hour passed and she still had not moved from her spot. She was thirsty now though and when she moved, she realized how right Castle had been. She was hurt. She had been beaten—and badly. Sitting still had only made her aching muscles and joints stiffen up. She felt like she had been hit by a truck.

Maybe this is what she deserved.

Even though it was against every bone, every cell in her body, she wanted to go back over to his apartment. She just wanted to. Couldn't she do something she wanted for once? Could she let herself have one night free from her self-imposed exile?

Why should she care about her pride anymore? How did that even matter after all that had happened? Who cares if he saw some weakness in her? Certainly her walls could hold.

And who was she kidding anyway? While her walls were high, they were also stretched too thin. They were a mirage—hollowed and crumbling inside. He had been chipping away at them since day one. She might be keeping him at bay on the outside, but inside, he had already nestled himself in, the way he sat in his chair each morning, coffee in hand, ready to work.

Work—wow, she had really screwed up. Sure, work would be great, but she wasn't really angry at the Captain, she realized. There's no way in hell she should be on the case—he could even get fired for it.

What was it then?

Why had she exploded like that? What had been happening before the phone call?

And then it hit her. They had been kissing. He had been—pulling her against him, which now pulled something deep inside of her. She had been wearing his shirt. She had been prepared for things to change, if for just that one night.

And that's why she was hesitating now. It wasn't just her pride. She knew if she went back over there, it wasn't going to be just this one night. It would be many nights, then most nights, and then all nights. Choosing to be with him would be like going down a water slide. Once you did it, you couldn't go back. All you could do was hold on and have fun.

"Ahhh!" she exclaimed when finally pushing herself to her feet. God, that hurt.

She used the door to give her support as she rose to her full height. She made a mental check of everything—wallet, gun, badge—and quickly realized that everything was still in place because she had never moved once she had come home. She even had her coat on.

Taking a deep breath and centering herself as much as she could, she swung open the door and paused in the doorway, looking at both of the guards. She didn't know them. Good. That made it even easier.

"Let's go," she told them, starting down the hallway. "We're going back over to Castle's."

"Yes, ma'am," they affirmed together.

"Come on," she ordered. "You're driving."