Page 50 of Criminally Yours

“You don’t want your other fidget tool back?” she asked.

“Something to remember me by.”

His jaw tightened as he stared out the windscreen.

CHAPTER 22

Millie

They neared the police station. The aura of calm that Millie attempted to cover herself with faded.

Cam gripped the steering wheel, the leather crackling.

Strike’s jaw tightened.

Millie gritted her teeth and attempted to ground herself. What would a romance book heroine do? She winced. If she were in some of her favourite books, she’d probably go willingly and bring cable ties.

She dug her nails into her arms, nearly breaking the skin.

“Doc, you’re humming again.” Strike brought her out of her failing de-stress techniques.

“Remind me of the plan.”

“Casey will meet us outside the police station. Although this isn’t her area, she’s requested to accompany us. Joining her is a lawyer Cam’s brother knows through work.”

She twisted her hair into a bun, barely ignoring Strike’s penetrating stare. “I’d forgotten about a lawyer. You thought of everything.”

“That’s my job,” Strike replied as he tapped out a message on his phone.

The laughing, happy Strike that had given her a piggyback was gone, and it was for the best. She needed him to be cold, calculating, and unreactive when faced with danger.

She didn’t care that others called him a robot. Being a robot wasn’t a bad thing as long as he expressed his emotions occasionally and didn’t let them overwhelm him.

“We’ll park up. Casey, the lawyer, and I will escort you in. They’ll take your statement. Only the chief superintendent knows you’re coming so that we can ensure your safety.”

Millie nodded. In a different situation, his authority would be sexy. Who was she kidding? Even terrified, she was attracted to his dominance.

“We should have you back with your stuff and car and at your flat by bedtime or coffee and reading time.” He smiled, revealing the softness around his hard edges. “Hopefully, they’ll bring Hugo in for questioning, but I recommend you get out of the area for a couple of weeks.”

“I could go to Sweden. I’ll tell Dexter the friend bailed on me.”

Strike pursed his lips briefly before saying nonchalantly, “Or come to Stal’s place in Cornwall with me. I’m still going.” He checked his phone. “Casey is ready.”

Millie picked at her pink nail varnish as her heart rate increased. She knew the ways to reduce anxiety, but however many times she swallowed, she couldn’t keep saliva in her mouth. Her knuckles were white from gripping the fidget tool. She swallowed the temptation to cry or shout.

“We’re mobilised. We get in, get out. Full alert,” Strike stated and fist bumped Cam.

Millie barked out a laugh. “What?”

Strike pulled on the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he stuttered. “We’re ready. Army slang. Once a fighter, always a fighter, Doc.”

His use of her nickname calmed her slightly. Soon, she’d be home, life would be normal, and she’d be safe. But that meant being alone and without Strike. The pull to him was unwavering.

She needed to ask him about the past and open herself to hurt once this was over. It was time to let her barriers down rather than close herself off for fear of what he might say. That was what she’d tell her clients.

“Never let the thoughts get you,” she mumbled.

“What?” Strike turned to stare at her, his phone temporarily forgotten. The streetlights highlighted his strong cheekbones and the healing cut on his chin. Even faced with a danger she couldn’t fully comprehend, he was beautiful.