CHAPTER 21

Billy flinched at his shout.

“Detective, I…”

“Direct contact with a suspect. Surveillance. Illegal entry into someone else’s room,” Lake didn’t even let him finish. “Installing equipment without a warrant. Without backup. Without contact with the station.”

He spoke fast, sharply, listing one violation after another, as though during those few minutes in the wardrobe he had managed to break down every single one of their mistakes. His coat was still damp from the rain, his hair disheveled, his breathing still nowhere near steady, but Aaron didn’t seem to notice any of it.

With every new point, Billy grew paler.

“Detective, we just wanted…”

“What?”

Lake turned sharply to him.

“What did you want, Hong? To plant a wire and quietly leave? Did you think for even one second about what would happen if someone walked into that room?”

Billy opened his mouth, but he wasn’t allowed to answer again.

“And they did walk in! Three armed men. Into a room you had no way out of!”

“It was my idea,” Rick cut in.

Aaron looked at him at once.

“I’m not talking to you right now.”

“You should be. I dragged him in there.”

“And he had enough sense to listen to you!”

The last words came out noticeably louder, and Rick involuntarily clenched his teeth, but he wasn’t going to back down.

“Then yell at me. Billy here had nothing to—”

“Billy is a intern!”

Aaron’s voice struck so sharply that Hong flinched again.

In two steps, Lake was in front of him.

“You’re a intern, Hong. You don’t even carry a weapon. If that psycho had opened the wardrobe, what would you have done?”

Billy froze.

Aaron waited. Only a few seconds.

“I’m asking you: what would you have done?!”

“I…”

“Nothing,” Lake snapped, not letting him finish. “Because you wouldn’t even have had anything to defend yourself with.”

Billy lowered his eyes guiltily.

And now the room went quiet.

Rick looked at him and felt something inside pull unpleasantly with helplessness. The worst part was that Aaron was absolutely right. But Rick could no longer stand there and watch Lake keep tearing into him.

“Enough. I already said it was my idea.”

Aaron didn’t even turn.

Instead, he reached into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out a worn notebook.

Rick recognized it immediately.

Hong went sharply pale.

For several seconds, Lake simply stood there, clutching the notebook in his hand. His fingers dug deeper and deeper into the soft cover until it bent under them.

Then he hurled it onto the bed with all his strength.

The notebook flipped several times across the bedspread, caught the edge of a pillow, and stopped almost against the wall.

Billy followed it with his eyes.

“Recognize it?”
Hong slowly lifted his head.

“Detective, I…”

“I found you because of it.”

Billy froze. Aaron stepped toward him.

“A little longer, Hong,” his voice suddenly broke into a rasp, “and I would’ve been using it to look for your bodies.”

Lake was breathing hard, not taking his eyes off him.

“Two weeks.”

Billy blinked in confusion.

“What?”

“You’re suspended for two weeks.”

“Detective Lake, please, I —”

“Three weeks.”

This time even Rick was stunned for a second.

“Then suspend me too.”

Aaron turned his head sharply.

“Stay out of it.”

“No, listen. Without me he wouldn’t have even—”

“I said: stay out of it, Rick!”

His voice broke almost into a shout.

Rick fell silent.

For exactly one second.

Anger was already boiling full force in his chest, and after everything they’d gone through in that wardrobe, holding it back was becoming harder and harder.

“Convenient,” he bit out. “Yelling at a kid who just followed me.”

“Rick…” Billy jerked toward him, frightened.

“Shut your mouth, Hong.” Aaron said it so sharply that he froze in place.

Lake looked heavily at him first, then at Rick. The muscles worked in his jaw, but instead of another outburst, he turned sharply and headed for the door.

In the small room, it only took him a few steps.

Aaron grabbed the handle and pulled the door open.

“Three weeks, Hong. And be grateful there’s no official report.”

Billy didn’t move.

“Detective…”

“Out.”

One word was enough.

Hong quickly went to the bed, picked up the notebook, and headed for the exit. At the door, he stopped and cast Rick a guilty look, as if he still wanted to say something, but Rick only gave the faintest shake of his head.

Billy pressed his lips together and stepped into the corridor.

Aaron closed the door behind him, and the click of the lock sounded unexpectedly loud in the silence that followed.

Lake remained standing with his back to Rick, his hand still on the door handle. His fingers slowly tightened around the metal.

Then he turned.

Rick tensed despite himself.

The fury hadn’t gone anywhere. Aaron was breathing heavily, his jaw clenched tight, the muscles in his cheek twitching again.

Finally, he released the door handle.

“And now explain to me what the hell you were doing in there.”

Rick didn’t even understand the question at first.

“I already told you. It was my idea.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

“Then what are you asking?”

Aaron exhaled noisily through his nose and dragged a hand over his face. For a second Rick thought he was going to turn away, but Lake only took a few steps toward the window, immediately turned around, and came back. There was barely enough space for that kind of pacing in the small room: three steps one way, three back.

“You should have contacted me.”

Rick frowned. Something inside him stung unpleasantly.

“I would have contacted Hayes, Driscoll, or Kowalski, explained the situation, and asked one of them to come.”

He stared at him, not immediately believing he had heard that seriously.

“Do you hear yourself? What do Kowalski and Driscoll have to do with any of this?”

“They’re cops!” Aaron’s voice rose again.

“So what? They have no idea what’s happening here,” Rick continued, irritated. “They don’t know Coop, they haven’t read Katie’s file, they don’t know who we’re watching, they haven’t seen half of what we’ve seen.”

Lake stepped closer, but Rick didn’t stop.

“I was supposed to call Kowalski, summarize the last week and a half for him in five minutes, and ask him to urgently come to a hotel?”

“Yes! That is exactly what you were supposed to do!”

“Are you serious right now? And then what?” He spread his hands. “The three of us would sit down and wait until someone decided to sign a warrant?”

Aaron stopped sharply.

“Exactly.”

“Don’t talk bullshit.”

The last words slipped out before Rick could stop them.

Something barely perceptible shifted in Lake’s face. His gray-blue eyes darkened. He slowly ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek but said nothing.

Rick saw all of it. And he knew perfectly well what it cost Aaron to hold himself back.

But he still wasn’t going to back down.

“You know damn well how long that fucking warrant would take,” Rick continued, no longer trying to sound calm. “A day? Two? A week? While we explain everything to Kowalski or Driscoll, while they pull the files, while they find a judge who’ll even agree to hear us out. And Coop does what? Sits in the room and patiently waits?!”

“I don’t give a damn about Coop!”

Rick broke off.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?!”

Lake’s voice broke so suddenly that Rick instinctively recoiled.

“You should have waited for me!”

For several seconds, Rick just stared at him, genuinely unable to understand what he was hearing. It fit so poorly with Lake, with his endless stubbornness and the way he had spent years sinking his teeth into Katie’s case, that the irritation inside him only flared hotter.

“If I’d waited for you, we wouldn’t have gotten this information! It matters. We know now that there’s going to be a shipment. We can catch them! You should be thanking me!”

“Thanking you?!”

Aaron moved toward him sharply. In the cramped room, the distance between them vanished at once.

“God, Rick, you saw his gun yourself!” Aaron leaned in even closer. “Why the hell are you standing here arguing with me?!”

“What am I supposed to do?!” Rick threw his hands up.

“Finally understand that half a second more and I would’ve had to open that goddamn wardrobe!”

Rick fell silent.

Aaron turned away sharply and pressed a hand to his mouth, freezing like that for a moment, as if physically trying to hold back the next shout.

“Do you understand what would’ve happened after that? He would’ve fired. I would’ve fired. Three meters away from you!”

He stayed there with his back to Rick, breathing hard. And when he finally turned around, Rick suddenly noticed the faint tremor in his fingers.

“I didn’t know which of you I’d be able to cover first!”

The last words came much quieter.

And for some reason, that only made Rick angrier.

“Who even asked you to do that?! Huh?” He felt everything he’d been trying to suppress these past few days rise to his throat all at once. “You disappeared for a week!”

Rick practically growled the last words and, no longer able to stop himself, stepped toward Aaron, shoving him hard in the chest with an open palm.

Aaron clearly hadn’t expected it and took an involuntary step back.

“You just left without even warning me!”

Another shove landed almost in the same place. Rick advanced on him, no longer noticing how quickly the distance was shrinking, or how Aaron took another step back.

“I left a note!” Aaron snapped, leaning down sharply toward him.

“A note?” Rick gave a short, irritated laugh and licked his dry lips. “You left a note?”

He shoved a hand into his pocket, pulled out the slip of paper worn thin over the past few days, and unfolded it demonstratively right in front of Aaron.

“Oh, right, you mean this shitty piece of paper? ‘Left. Back Friday.’” Rick read every word with venom, then lifted his eyes to him. “Very fucking informative! And now you show up here and yell at me?”

He crumpled the note in his fist and hurled it aside.

“Hayes gave an order! I couldn’t disobey!”

“I don’t give a fuck about Hayes!” Rick shoved him again. “You didn’t even call me!!!”

But this time Aaron didn’t step back. Rick’s palm remained pressed against his chest.

For a moment, Aaron faltered.

“You could’ve called me yourself.”

Rick yanked his hand away.

“No, I couldn’t, Aaron!” he burst out, finally losing track of his own voice completely. “Because I wasn’t the one who left. You were!”

Aaron went still.

Rick was breathing hard, still standing right in front of him, but Lake said nothing else.

He just looked at him.

His fingers, which only moments ago had kept curling into fists, gradually relaxed. He slowly lowered his eyes to the crumpled note near the bed, lingered on it, then looked back at Rick.

Rick was still angry. He could feel his cheeks burning with rage, his heart pounding somewhere under his ribs, and he had no idea why Aaron had suddenly stopped arguing.

Another second passed.
Then another.

Rick swallowed despite himself.

Aaron frowned slightly, as if replaying everything he had just heard one more time.

“Wait…”

One word was enough to put Rick on guard.

He took a small step forward.

“I don’t think I understand.”

His voice had become noticeably quieter, and that sudden change made Rick feel uneasy for some reason.

“Are you angry that I left…” Aaron paused briefly, not taking his eyes off him. “Or that I didn’t call you?”

Rick forgot how to breathe.

He couldn’t answer. He only stared at Aaron, feeling heat slowly flood his face as his own words returned to him one after another.

You disappeared for a week.
You didn’t even call me.
I wasn’t the one who left. You were.

Fuck.

Rick sharply looked away and almost immediately saw the crumpled note beside the bed. The very same one he had pulled from his pocket seconds ago and practically shoved in Aaron’s face. Worn thin over these past few days, its edges creased, the fold down the middle nearly rubbed away.

He would rather have shot himself.

“Go fuck yourself!”

He turned before Aaron could answer and strode quickly toward the door.

“Rick.”

Parker only walked faster.

“Come here.”

“No.”

The door in the tiny room was only a few meters away. Rick crossed the distance almost at once, unlocked it in one movement, and grabbed the handle.

“Rick, come back.”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now!”

He yanked the door toward himself.

It managed to open only a few inches.

Aaron was beside him almost instantly. His palm landed against the wooden panel above Rick’s shoulder with a dull thud, shutting the door before Rick could squeeze through.

Parker froze.

For several seconds, neither of them moved.
Rick was still gripping the handle, feeling the other man’s presence right behind him, while his heart hammered wildly somewhere in his throat.

“Let me go,” he bit out.

“No.”

The short answer came right above his ear.
Rick tightened his grip on the cold metal.

“I said let me go.”

“No. We’re going to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Yes, you do.”

Rick gave an angry laugh, still not turning around.

“So now you decide that for me too?”

The silence behind him stretched out, and Rick was about to yank the door again when Lake’s voice sounded very close.

“We’re not in school anymore, Rick.”

For a moment, Rick’s breath caught.

“You can’t just walk away from the answer again.”

Now Rick slowly lifted his head.

Something in those words struck too deep and too precisely. For several more seconds, he stared at the closed door in front of him, then finally turned around.

“What did you say?”

Aaron didn’t move.

“You heard me.”

He wasn’t shouting anymore. All that remained of the earlier fury was a tense crease between his brows. Rick could feel his intense gaze on him, but stubbornly looked off to the side.

“Leave me alone.”

“Look at me.”

“Fuck, Aaron, leave me alone!”

Rick clenched his teeth.

“Rick.”

“What?!”

He snapped his head up.

“What do you want to hear from me?!”

The last words came out almost as a shout and hit the walls dully.

Aaron didn’t answer.
Rick was breathing heavily, feeling the treacherous heat already reaching his ears. He wanted to turn away and hide behind anger again, but after his own words it would have been too obvious, so he stubbornly forced himself to hold the other man’s gaze.

“Well?” he snapped.

Lake still said nothing. But the worst part was that he was looking at him completely differently now.

There was no more than a step between them, and Rick only noticed it then. Aaron was still standing too close.

In the stuffy room, there was suddenly no air left to breathe.

“You understand,” Aaron said quietly.

Rick clenched his teeth, but he had nothing to say.

For several long seconds they simply stood facing each other, and the longer Lake looked at him, the more desperately Rick wanted to do something—anything—to break the agonizing silence.

His gaze shifted on its own.

Just for a moment.

Rick didn't even realize how, instead of Aaron's gray-blue eyes, he suddenly found himself looking at
his lips.

He looked back up immediately.

Too late.

Aaron had noticed.

Rick could tell from the faint change in his expression. Lake's gaze froze for an instant, his lips parted slightly, as though he were about to say something, but no words came.

Everything inside Rick dropped away.

With painful clarity, he suddenly realized what he'd just done, and his first, almost instinctive urge was to turn away immediately. Step back. Say something cutting, something harsh—anything to erase those few seconds from Aaron's memory.

But Lake didn't retreat.

And for some reason, neither did Rick.

Only moments ago he'd been desperate to get out of this room, and now he stood almost chest to chest with him, unable to make himself take even half a step back.

It was then that he finally understood just how far they'd both gone.

Rick swallowed slowly.

Aaron was still standing silently in front of him, looking at him almost the same way he had back in December.

He remembered...

And now he stood there again, as though waiting to see what Rick would do next.

Something twisted painfully inside him, but Rick only let out a quiet, humorless huff.

Lake frowned almost imperceptibly.

Of course.

How convenient.

A few minutes ago he'd been shouting at Rick, demanding answers, refusing to let him leave, backing him into a corner with question after question.
And now he was looking at him as though only one of them was expected to lay himself bare today.

No.

Not today.

"You want to go back to that conversation?" Rick slowly lifted his eyes to him. "Fine."

He straightened.

"You're right. We're not in school anymore."

This time it was Rick who stepped forward. Just one small step, but Lake tensed immediately.

"So for once, let's skip your favorite game of staying silent and talk honestly."

The crease between Lake's brows returned.

"What are you talking about?"

"What are you doing here?"

For a moment, Aaron looked genuinely caught off guard.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I asked."

Rick folded his arms across his chest. His heart was still pounding far too fast, but at least the anger had finally given him something solid to hold on to.

"If I remember correctly, the reception at your conference isn't even over yet."

Lake only looked at him.

"There was supposed to be a banquet tonight," Rick continued. "Congratulations, champagne, all that celebratory nonsense."

Something in Lake's expression shifted ever so slightly. Rick caught it immediately and seized on it.

"But you're already here."

He took another step, almost completely closing the distance between them.

"So I'm asking you again, Aaron. What are you doing here?"

This time, Lake looked away.

Rick almost laughed again. Just a minute ago, he'd been the one stubbornly looking anywhere but at Aaron. Now, somehow, their roles had reversed, and the realization filled him with something dangerously close to satisfaction.

"What is it?"

Aaron only clenched his jaw harder.

"You wanted to talk? Then let's talk."

Rick took the final step, never taking his eyes off him. The last bit of space between them disappeared completely.

"Or you still can't?"

A television murmured faintly behind the wall. People walked past in the hallway.
Rick stood directly in front of Aaron — flushed, disheveled, still breathing heavily after their argument. Dark curls had fallen messily across his forehead, the scarf had slipped crookedly around his neck, and the corners of his eyes were still noticeably red.

But now he met Aaron's gaze head-on, stubbornly, almost defiantly. Nothing remained of the uncertainty with which he'd been trying to escape this room only moments before.

Aaron didn't answer right away.

His eyes slowly traveled across Rick's face, lingering on the trembling lashes, the tightly pressed lips, then lifting back to his eyes.

Rick didn't look away. He only swallowed.

The tense line between Lake's brows gradually smoothed out. His jaw finally relaxed. His shoulders eased almost imperceptibly.

Then he quietly exhaled.

"I'm sorry."

Rick froze.

For several seconds he simply stared at Aaron, unsure he'd heard him correctly.

"What...?"

"I was wrong."
Something inside Rick suddenly felt strangely hollow.
As though he'd spent far too long preparing for the next blow, had already decided what he'd say, where he'd strike back, what else he could seize on—
and Aaron had simply stopped fighting.
And acknowledged that Rick had every right to be angry.

Rick blinked.

Over the past ten years, he'd imagined this conversation dozens of times. In some versions he yelled. In others he laughed in Aaron's face. Sometimes he walked right past him as though he'd stopped caring years ago.

But in none of them had Lake ever said, "I was wrong."

And now Rick had absolutely no idea what to do with those words.

Aaron was still looking at him calmly, openly. Then he pressed his lips together slightly and added,

"And I should've called you."

Something inside Rick finally let go. Not all at once — slowly, almost painfully, like the tension that had held him together for days was finally beginning to loosen.

He lowered his head and stood there silently for a while.

"Don't ever do that again," he said quietly at last.

Aaron didn't answer immediately.

"I won't."

Rick looked up. This time neither of them looked away. They simply stood facing one another for a moment longer than they should have, until Aaron was the first to take half a step back.

There was space between them again.

Rick stayed where he was.

Strangely enough, it didn't make things easier.
If anything, it made them worse.
He was acutely aware of his own breathing, of the heat that still hadn't left his face, and of how quiet everything had become after everything they'd just said to each other.

Aaron finally turned away. He slowly unbuttoned his coat, took it off, and tossed it onto the bed. His movements were familiar, almost ordinary, but for some reason Rick kept watching him—watching the way Aaron ran a hand through his hair before lowering himself heavily onto the edge of the mattress.

Until Aaron turned his head toward him again.

Rick immediately found somewhere else to look.

And only then did he notice the scarf.

The dark fabric was still draped over his shoulders.

Damn.

Having to explain that too was the last thing he wanted right now.

He quickly reached for it.

"What are you doing?"

Rick froze, the scarf only halfway off his neck.

"Nothing."

Aaron raised an eyebrow slightly.

Rick held out for only a couple of seconds.

"It was cold." He finally slipped the scarf off. "I... borrowed it."

The last word sounded especially ridiculous. As though Rick had really taken Aaron's scarf simply because he was cold — not worn it all day, touching the soft wool again and again, quietly breathing in that painfully familiar scent whenever he had the chance.

Awkwardly, he smoothed the fabric and held it out.

"Here."

Lake glanced at the scarf but made no move to take it.

Rick kept his arm extended for another moment, gradually feeling more foolish by the second.

"Aaron?"

"You don't have to."

Rick frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Aaron gave the faintest shrug.

"I'm not cold."

Rick's hand slowly dropped.

Something about those words tugged painfully at his memory.
A damp alley. Drizzling rain. A heavy jacket settling unexpectedly over his shoulders.

"This isn't Santa Cruz..."

"If you're about to tell me you're a local and I'm not," he muttered quietly, "I'm going to hit you."

Aaron froze for a moment.

This time something almost amused flickered in his gray-blue eyes.

"I'll keep quiet."

Rick snorted, though a smile still managed to tug at the corner of his mouth.

The scarf remained in his hands. He didn't put it back on. And Aaron said nothing more.

For a while they each stayed where they were, but now the silence no longer weighed on them.
On the contrary. For the first time that evening, it was simply possible to breathe in it.

"So," Lake said quietly.

"What?"

"Tell me what happened here."

Rick finally unzipped his jacket and slipped it off his shoulders. Only then did he realize how unpleasantly his shirt clung to his overheated skin.

He tossed the jacket onto the bed beside Aaron's coat and sat down on the other bed across from him. The mattress creaked softly beneath his weight.

Rick settled into a more comfortable position, still holding the soft fabric of the scarf in his hands.