“Absolutely, Halling. You know I’m good for a favor.”

  “Yeah, you always are.” They finished their meal talking about Paige’s ongoing case, and Grace knew she was going to have to have a long conversation with Amya when they both were home and settled in for the night. Neither of them were going to get much sleep.

  Unravel

  It was near dusk by the time Amya made it home from her shift. It had been a mostly normal day with only a few hiccups, but it had been exhaustingly draining. The individuals who had come to see her that day had heavy issues weighing on their hearts, and she’d broken right alongside them. It had felt as though she hadn’t had even five minutes to herself to collect her thoughts.

  As she pushed the door open, she smiled when the dogs vied for her attention. She bent down and scratched them between the ears and under the chin. Sighing, Amya dropped her bag by the door, slipped her shoes off, and went straight for the kitchen.

  The house was quiet, far too quiet. Normally Grace would have come to greet her at the door along with the dogs if she was awake, but there was nothing to indicate Grace was even home except for the cruiser parked outside. When she got to the counter, she saw the bottle of whiskey sitting on it, still open. Amya picked it up and read the label, one she had read a dozen or two times over the past years.

  Shrugging, she grabbed a small glass from the cabinet, poured herself a couple shots and downed them in one gulp. The burn sliding down her throat felt amazing. It had been so long since she had indulged in anything more than a glass of wine at dinner, and that had really only been while she was gone at her conference since Peter was still living at the house.

  Her heart sunk. Peter could have very easily brought the alcohol home, but she suspected it was Grace, seeing as it was her favorite label. Pouring herself a couple more shots and adding in cubes of ice this time, Amya took a sip and let out a long relieving breath. She shucked her jacket and threw it over the back of the kitchen chair as she moved toward the bedroom.

  The light was off when she entered, so she turned around and narrowed her eyes. The bathroom door was open a crack, and she caught the slight flickering light and the sound of moving water. Sipping her drink, she chuckled as she stepped barefoot down the hall and opened the door.

  “Having a bath without me, I see.” Her voice was sharp and loud, and it echoed in the tiny room.

  Grace, laying in the tub with her eReader zip-locked into a bag and her shot of whiskey on the edge of the bath, jerked with a sudden start and splashed water onto her eReader. Water also sloshed over the edge of the tub and onto the floor below. Amya laughed and smiled as she moved the bathmat with her toe to soak up the water properly.

  “You even lit the candles.”

  “Jesus, Amya.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “What the hell do you want me to say? You scared the shit out of me. Again.”

  Amya pursed her lips. “When was the last time you took this kind of bath?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Sure it does. What happened?” Amya sat on the closed lid of the toilet seat and put her feet up on the edge of the tub as she stared down at her girlfriend of three years who very likely moved slower than a sloth when it came to anything relationship-related.

  “Nothing happened,” Grace muttered and shifted in the tub, her focus going back to the book her device had on it.

  “What are you reading?” Amya asked as she took a quick sip from her own whiskey.

  Grace sighed. “The same thing I was reading five minutes ago when you barged in here.”

  “Testy, aren’t we?” Amya stared down Grace’s form. She’d always admired Grace’s body, the way she kept in shape for sure, but more the long lines of her legs and her arms that made her look taller than she actually was, the slight curves moved perfectly to allow her such grace—except Grace was anything but. “What happened today to get you so worked up you had to open the bottle of Johnny and get in the bath?”

  “Nothing happened,” Grace muttered, her gaze still solely focused on the eReader in front of her.

  “Forgive me for not believing you. Where’s Peter?”

  “God only knows.”

  Amya narrowed her gaze. “He’s not back in jail, is he?”

  “He deserves to be,” Grace added, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “What does that mean?” There was a slight accusing tone to Amya’s words, a bite she hadn’t intended.

  “Nothing.”

  Amya closed her eyes and downed the rest of her drink before she set it on the edge of the sink. “What happened today?”

  Grace’s gaze slid, full of contempt, from her eReader to Amya. “I told him not to come home until he was sober.”

  “What happened, Grace?”

  “I was at the diner getting lunch, and Peter was there. With the boy.” The way she said the last two words were astounding, so much anger and bitterness, so much snide hate.

  “I assume he was intoxicated.”

  Grace nodded. “Yeah, so I told him he wasn’t welcome here until he was sober and the boy wasn’t with him anymore.”

  Again, that same sneering tone. “What boy?”

  Snorting, Grace turned to stare Amya in the eye. “The one from seminary. Apparently he came for a visit, I’m betting spring break, and Peter just failed to share that information with us. So I told him I didn’t appreciate him lying—”

  “What exactly did you tell him?” Amya’s shoulders stiffened. She didn’t want Peter to think he wasn’t welcome at their house any longer. They were—at least to their knowledge—his only safe place to go, and if he truly wanted to make a change in his life again, they would be there for him.

  Grace glared as she set her eReader onto the edge of the tub and grabbed her drink, mimicking Grace downed the rest of it before she set the glass on the floor. Amya leaned over and picked it up, setting it next to her own empty cup.

  “I told him not to come home until he was sober.”

  “Yeah, I got that. But what else did you say to him?”

  “I told him lying was an abomination.”

  Amya choked. “You said what?”

  Grace sent her another glare. “I told him lying lips were an abomination and I didn’t appreciate him lying to me, that he was only welcome at this house when he was sober and without Dick.”

  “You quoted scripture at him?” Amya raised an eyebrow, curiosity, humor, and astonishment all warring within her.

  Shrugging, Grace scooted into the tub more, her messy blonde hair that was haphazardly pulled into a knot on top of her head daring the loose strands to get wet. “I thought it might help him make sense since that’s his go to.”

  “What scripture did you quote to him?”

  “How the fuck do I know?” Grace cut her a look of serious confusion.

  “You quoted it.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know what the fuck it is. My dad used to tell me that shit all the time. You think I actually looked that shit up?”

  Laughing, Amya shook her head and closed her eyes. “What did he say?”

  Grace let out a puff of air with a hiss. “Same thing you did.”

  “What?”

  “He asked me when I started quoting scripture.”

  “To be fair,” Amya tried to hold in her laughter, “I’m not sure I’ve ever heard you say something like that.”

  “I’m not stupid.” Grace’s defenses went up.

  “I’m not saying you are. I would never say that because I don’t believe it at all. I’ve just never heard you quote scripture.”

  “I know the Bible. My dad was a pastor.”

  “Yeah, he was.” Amya’s tone took on a softer quality. Any time Grace brought her father up, it was usually because she was avoiding some other kind of feeling. “And he was a crappy one at that.”

  Grace huffed. “He made me memorize scripture every night before bed.”

  “Did he really?” Amya’s eyes widened. “You’ve never shared that before.”

  Shrugging, Grace moved the water over her belly and chest. The ripples entranced Amya and dragged her gaze down Grace’s body when she hadn’t intended to look there. “I’m pretty sure he’d be turning in his grave to know I’m gay.”

  Amya smiled at that. “Not that you’d care anyway.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t care.”

  Nodding, Amya licked her lips. “So what made you think of your dad?”

  Grace pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she stared at her toes, and Amya knew she had her. She was going to push her into talking, and she was patient enough to wait for an answer. She was one of nine children, she could easily wait a century before asking the same question twice. She was also very good at moving the conversation in ways most people weren’t expecting in order to get answers.

  “Did I tell you I used to steal shit?”

  “You’ve mentioned it here and there. Before Daniel, right?”

  “Yeah.” Grace still wouldn’t look at her.

  Amya moved to stand and started on the buttons on her slacks.

  “What are you doing?” Grace’s dark brown eyes went wide.

  “You’ll see. Why did your history with stealing come up?”

  Grace once again stilled and stared at her toes, clearly not sure if she wanted to answer or not. Amya shucked her pants and kicked them into the corner of the room before pulling at the buttons on her blouse. They remained in silence until Amya pulled at the clasp on her bra, then Grace’s gaze was completely locked on Amya’s body, causing a flush to rush through Amya’s chest and into her cheeks.

  “I swiped Peter’s keys at the diner.”

  “You did? Clever.”

  “Didn’t want him to drive. Paige was impressed.”

  Amya faltered in her movements as she pushed her underwear to her toes. “Paige was with you?”

  “Yeah. She…well, it doesn’t matter. What are you doing?” Grace’s cheeks tinged pink.

  “Huh?”

  “You’re naked.”

  Amya turned her head up to look at Grace as she grabbed for a hair tie and twisted her own brown locks into a messy bun at the top of her head. “Yeah.”

  “So what are you doing?”

  “Joining you.”

  The sneer Grace gave her in return to the comment almost threw her into a fit of giggles. Amya popped her hip out to the side and put her fist on it as she stared down at Grace. “I mean, I could just go to the living room, naked, wandering around the house, waiting for you to be done.”

  “No.” Grace’s voice was a whisper. “No, don’t do that.”

  Smiling, Amya stepped closer and bent down, her palms on the cold cast iron of the tub. “Then what would you like me to do.”

  “Get in here,” Grace mumbled.

  “You sound so thrilled,” Amya flirted back as she put her toe into the water, hoping it was still warm. She knew Grace often stayed hours in the tub and sometimes it was cold before she got it. Amya was pleasantly surprised to find a good amount of heat still in it.

  Grace rolled her eyes and gripped Amya’s ankle, tugging hard as she shifted her weight and forcing Amya to slip and fall directly onto Grace’s chest. The splash of water was loud in the tiny room, water overflowing the tub and onto the floor around them.

  Before Amya had a chance to catch her breath, Grace’s mouth covered hers and Grace’s hands gripped her hips to hold her steady. Their tongues tangled, and Amya lost herself in the embrace. The heat from the bath and the room working wonders with the four shots of whiskey she’d had when she hadn’t drank in such a long time. Her head spun pleasantly, a buzz in her ears as she moved against Grace to get comfortable in the tiny tub.

  When Grace finally let her up, Amya grinned and shifted so her back was against Grace’s front. They’d only done this a few times over the years, but Amya loved it. “It’s a good thing you put that eReader in the damn bag.”

  “What?”

  Chuckling, Amya grabbed over the edge of the tub where the device had fallen and pulled up a sopping went Ziploc baggie.

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.” Amya laughed again before she set it down and snuggled into Grace’s arms. “Why were you out with Paige?”

  Grace sighed and ran the edge of her nails up and down Amya’s arms, making her shiver. “I had an interview I wanted to do, and Humbard is insisting we work in pairs until the IAB investigation is over.”

  “How is that going, by the way?”

  “Hell if I know. I did my interview. I know I’m not the target of it. Beyond that, I know nothing as it should be.”

  “I guess,” Amya muttered. Her heart still clenched at the idea Grace and Paige had gone to eat together. It shouldn’t. She knew Grace wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize their relationship, but she did not trust Paige to keep that same distance. Last winter, her jealousy had come to a head, and she couldn’t avoid it any longer. It had gotten slightly better since then, but she’d never been able to make it fully go away.

  Grace dropped a kiss to Amya’s shoulder, bringing her attention back around. “I used to steal to stay alive.”

  “I know,” Amya whispered, her heart breaking for the umpteenth time that day. She couldn’t imagine how Grace had grown up, alone, essentially orphaned, on the streets, with no hope of a better life.

  “Okay.”

  They stayed in the water until it had a definite chill to it. Amya begged Grace to get out, and they spent the next hour cleaning their mess and talking about Peter and the boy as Grace had dubbed him. Amya loved to watch and see how attached Grace had become to Peter. Usually she tried to remain as aloof as possible and have no serious attachments to anyone, something Grace continually failed at.

  ###

  They’d had the entire weekend to themselves. It was such an odd feeling considering they’d had someone in the house with them since before Christmas. The house had felt obnoxiously empty the entire time, and Grace wondered if Peter would ever come back to them.

  Sighing, she pushed open the door to her unit and stopped short. Peter sat at her desk, a uniformed officer standing nearby. She nodded at the officer, who glared at her. “Detective Halling?”

  “Yeah, that’s me.” She wanted to ask if Peter was brought in for something stupid he had done, again, but she didn’t have the heart to form the words.

  “Do you know this man?”

  “Yes.”

  “He wants to talk to you, but I wasn’t about to leave him in here by himself.”

  “Thanks.”

  The officer left, and as soon as the main door shut, Grace crossed her arms and stared Peter down. No one else was in the offices yet. Grace always got there before anyone else did. She shifted her stance, taking on an aggressive posture. If Peter wasn’t going to talk, then she would stare him down. She had no regrets about what happened at the diner, but it was clear by his demeanor he did.

  “I’m sober, by the way.” His voice was soft, and he refused to look her in the eye.

  Grace knocked her chin up as she stared him down, judging him to see if he was telling the truth or not. She could tell he wasn’t full-out drunk, but whether or not he was completely sober was a different story. Only a breathalyzer and blood test would tell her that, but she wasn’t about to perform that on him and have it on his record if she could avoid it.

  “Where’s the boy?”

  “At the airport.”

  Raising one eyebrow, Grace dared herself not to soften. “What do you have to say for yourself then?”

  “I’m sorry. I really am.”

  She felt like she was talking to a toddler. “Sorry for what?”

  “Everything.” Peter ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair and shook his head. When he looked up at her, his gaze locking on hers, she knew he was telling the truth. “I’m really sorry. About drinking, about using you, about fucking up everything.”

  Grace swallowed and stared him down a few more seconds before she gave him a good nod. She relaxed and then stepped over to grab an extra chair from Paige’s desk and scooting it so she could sit with him. “Where have you been?”

  “Hotel. It sucked. Dick left.”

  “So you said.”

  “No, he left. We’re over with.”

  “Because you lied to him?”

  Peter nodded, his lips thinning and tears watering in his eyes. “Yeah.”

  “Happens when you lie.”

  “Yeah, I get that.” Peter let out a breath. “Again, I’m sorry.”

  “I won’t leave you, kid. You know that, right?”

  Peter’s gaze slid up to meet hers. Grace leaned down, her elbows on her knees as she made sure to stare at him hard but with compassion. She wanted him to understand what she was about to say.

  “I won’t leave you. You’re always welcome in our house so long as you are sober or ready to get sober. We’re here to support you in this walk of life. You know that, right?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded and then shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Shut it, kid. You’ve said that already.”

  “I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

  Grace reached out then, her hand on Peter’s knee, she gave him a gentle squeeze. “How many times are you going to mess up before you’ll do what you know you’re called to do and before you’ll let us help you and support you?”

  She almost told him life wasn’t meant to be walked alone, but she bit her tongue. She’d maintained that for years she didn’t need anyone, and it wasn’t until Amya that she really started to see the world differently.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Are you called to ministry?”

  Peter nodded.

  “Do you want to do it?”

  “Some days.”

  Grace laughed. “That’s good enough for any job. Some days I don’t want to be here either. If it’s something you want to do most days, then let’s get you back to doing it, okay, kid?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But you’re going to have to do the heavy lifting.”