For me, I’d lived my life for awhile off other people being good.

But for the first time in a long time I was sick of living in a fog most of the time and sick of feeling shit the rest of it and I wanted good back too, but I wanted it for me.

“I’m good,” I lied.

His hand and arm went away, I stood on my own two feet and I was concentrating so much on doing that, I didn’t move away directly. I just tested my steadiness for awhile before I tipped my head back, looked Colt in the eye, took a breath and then walked back to the conference room.

Someone got me a fresh coffee and everyone resumed their places.

“Now perhaps, Ms. Owens, in light of this new evidence,” Agent Nowakowski carefully placed the daisy bag on the table, his voice was gentle but probing, “we should go back over your relationship with Lieutenant Colton.”

His eyes were on me and he was examining me like Colt did yesterday and I figured, considering he did what he did for a living, there was a lot he could see.

Therefore, because this was important, not looking at Sully and hoping to God he’d keep his partner mouth shut even though I knew there was no way in hell he would, I said, “Alec Colton had been in my life since I was three to the time I was twenty. Not like my brother, something more. Everyone knew it, my family, our friends, everyone in town. Our breakup came as a surprise and still does to some, that’s how big it was. I broke up with him and it doesn’t matter why, I just did. He didn’t break up with me. This guy, whoever he is, is not going to care about that. I went off the rails after that and this guy, whoever he is, will know that like he knows everything else. And he’ll blame Ale… Colt.” I took a sip of coffee, swallowed then took a deep breath and went on. “It wasn’t about high school sweethearts. Even when we were high school sweethearts, it was more. It was much more, more than many people have in their lives. Everyone knew that too. They also know, once I went off the rails, I never found my way back. Even after coming home. I suspect he wants to make Colt pay for that, even pay for taking me away when that wasn’t Colt’s fault either. So that’s it, that’s the story. There’s no words to explain how big it was, what Colt and I had, or how much it hurts when something that big in your life is swept away, or how empty that place is that he once filled, or how impossible it is to find something to fill it, but since everyone knew I drained myself empty, I suspect this guy knew too.” I sat back and finished, “That’s it.”

Everyone was silent. I chanced a glance at Sully and he was looking at his knees.

“Lieutenant Colton was a lucky man,” Agent Nowakowski said gently and my eyes moved to him. He was still studying me but now his eyes were as gentle as his voice.

“Make no mistake, sir,” I replied, “Alec Colton was never lucky. He came into this world one of the most unlucky sons of bitches you’ve ever met and he’s worked his ass off for everything he’s ever had.”

I had no clue how proud I sounded, nor how fierce, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Sully’s head jerk up but it was what Agent Nowakowski said next that kept my attention on him.

“February, the mistake is yours if you think that’s true.”

I heard a loud reverberating sound, like a tiny drop of moisture splashing against the bottom of a dry, cavernous pit.

I almost looked around to find the source of the noise until I realized I was the only one who heard it because it was coming from inside of me.

* * *

Colt walked into J&J’s, it was early but he was off duty. The Feds and Sully were still working but after the scene in the Station his already minor “consultative capacity” became miniscule.

There was another reason he escaped the Station and that was because Sully had told him probably a dozen times that day they needed to talk about “what Feb said in that room”.

Seemed everyone wanted to discuss him and February, Susie, Jack, Morrie, Sully.

As for Sully, to be fair to Feb, Colt thought it was her choice if she wanted to share. He’d fucking well like to know what she said, make no mistake, but she should be the one to choose to tell him.

Walking into J&J’s, he knew he was likely jumping straight out of the frying pan into the fire. But Feb had said she’d cried in the bar when she’d heard about Puck and that meant the killer was in the bar to see her crying and therefore Colt was going to be in J&J’s scrutinizing the crowd.

It was Friday night and J&J’s like always on Fridays was packed. Darryl and Jack were working the bar, Feb and Ruthie, Morrie and Feb’s only other employee outside Fritzi who came in every morning to mop and clean, were both out amongst the tables, dropping drinks.

Morrie was nowhere to be seen.

Feb glanced up, saw him and dipped her chin like he’d seen her do to hundreds of customers, saying hello, asking, nonverbally, “What can I get you?” or “You want another?”

Colt felt exactly as he felt that morning when she’d denied him the jaw tilt for the first time since he could remember. He felt like he felt when she called him Colt for the first time something he’d repeatedly told her to do but something he found he fucking hated when she finally did it.

He felt like throwing something.

But instead he dipped his own chin and hid his response just as he kicked himself for being such an enormous jackass in the bathroom the day before finally losing it about her calling him Alec and taking away the only good thing they shared anymore.

Or so he thought.

After she denied him the jaw tilt that morning she threw a minor hissy fit about him being off the case. Colt had no idea if she was doing this because she thought The Feds were insulting him or if she wanted him working the case or both. He kept hearing her saying, “He’s a good cop,” over and over in his head and he liked the sound, too fucking much, but there was no denying he did.

And there was also no denying that her reaction to the possibility that he would get hurt, not to mention the death of his dog, had been spectacularly more mammoth than the tears she’d shed over her asshole ex-husband. They’d thought they’d need to sedate her, hell, he’d thought it too. She was completely out of control.

But she’d let him calm her. Not her Dad, or her Mom, nor had she pulled herself together on her own. Colt had done it.

Feb could lose it. She had her mother’s temper which was volatile, though quiet, but making matters worse she was also emotional, again just like her Mom. Both Feb and Jackie could descend into righteous indignation or inconsolable tears at the slightest provocation. Like Jack with Jackie, Colt had been the only one back in the day who could calm February.

And that day, he’d done it again.

And last, she wasn’t avoiding his eyes anymore or his touch. That morning, after her drama and him helping her to pull herself together, she’d stood in his arms and started a conversation about how he should get a new dog. When Warren interrupted the moment, Colt’s hands itched to wring the man’s neck. But when Colt finally let Feb go, she didn’t step away, gain distance. She stood close then met his eyes before walking away.

He had no idea what any of this meant or if it meant anything at all and it was only her way of coping during a seriously shitty situation. He’d give her her lead and he’d wait.

What he wouldn’t do was let Sully, Jack or Morrie piss all over it. If something good came of this mess, a détente between the two of them, he was going to take it and he wasn’t going to let anyone piss on it.

No fucking way.

He slid onto his stool at the end of the bar and scanned the room.

“Off duty?” Jack asked and Colt nodded.

He heard the hiss of the cap coming off the beer and the thud of the bottle landing in front of him and he forgot until then how much he missed hearing Jack ask, “Off duty?” then the subsequent hiss and thud.

It sucked why the family was back together but he couldn’t deny he was glad they were.

“Where’s Morrie?” Colt asked, watching Feb talk to a table full of kids who looked too young to be sitting in a bar.

“Shoulda come in three hours ago, you missed World War Three,” Jack’s amused answer brought Colt’s eyes to him.

“World War Three?” Colt asked the smiling Jack, not sure whether he was more surprised to see Jack smiling indulgently or to see that indulgent smile aimed at his daughter.

Jack had kept his mouth shut throughout the last two decades but Colt knew Feb felt his condemnation. He knew it because she couldn’t miss it, everyone saw it. Jack loved his daughter, always had, always would. They’d been close once, as fathers and daughters should be. Feb was Jack’s little girl, not like Susie was a Daddy’s Little Girl, what Jack and Feb had was special and it was beautiful.

But Jack took her breakup with Colt and her subsequent behavior, marriage and defection as a personal affront to the family he built. He’d accepted her and her decisions as that was Jack’s way, but he didn’t like them and he didn’t pretend to. Colt had seen him smile at his daughter, laugh with her, but he hadn’t seen that indulgent smile in twenty years.

Colt’s gaze moved back to February who now had her tray tucked under her arm and she was scrutinizing one of the boy’s driver’s licenses. He watched as she said something then tipped her head his way. The boys all went pale in the dim lights of the bar and looked uncomfortably at him, some of them twisting in their chair to do it. Feb said something else and they quickly grabbed their jackets, the legs of their chairs scraping so desperately on the floor the noise could be heard over the music. Through their hurried departure Feb tapped the now-confiscated license against her palm, her eyes went to her father and she rolled them.

Colt stopped breathing.

Jack burst out laughing.

Feb used to roll her eyes all the time. The world was full of idiots doing idiot things that Feb thought worthy of an eye roll, mostly the idiot things she did herself.

He’d always loved it that she could laugh at herself and all the trouble she got herself into because she was so fired up to suck all the life out of the world that she could get in her. She never blushed when she did something stupid or crazy or embarrassing, she’d just roll her eyes, throw her head back and laugh.

“I’m guessin’ you won’t shut us down, officer, since Feb didn’t serve those young ‘uns,” Jack said, his voice vibrating with his chuckle. “Good you kids got so much practice flashin’ your fake IDs and getting yourself into liquor stores, bars and trouble. Means Morrie and Feb can sniff ‘em out from a mile away.”

Colt was listening but he was watching Feb move to another table, her chin lifting, giving them a hello-what-can-I-get-cha.

“World War Three…” Jack said, capturing Colt’s attention again and he turned to look at the man, “happened when Feb found out Morrie moved home. She doesn’t know why, she thinks it’s a trial reconciliation. Three hours ago she told Morrie to go home, help his now full-time workin’ wife with dinner, help her with the dishes, help their kids with their homework and then to bed then he could come back here.” Colt thought this was good advice and Jack kept talking. “Morrie told her his kids are ten and twelve years old and they don’t need no help gettin’ to bed and Dee’s been doin’ the dishes since she was a kid.” Colt thought this was a very stupid response and Jack kept right on going. “Feb lost her mind, told him to stop bein’ a jackass and get home to his family.” Colt wished he’d seen that. “Morrie told her it was Friday and ain’t no way he was leavin’ this bar on a busy Friday night.” Colt wished he’d been here to kick his friend up the ass. “Feb told him he had a choice, he could take care of his customers or he could keep his family.”

When Jack stopped talking, Colt remarked, “No choice really.”

“Yep,” Jack grinned at him. “That’s why Morrie ain’t here.” Jack’s gaze sought his daughter and his voice was softer when he spoke again. “Ain’t seen Feb act that way in too long.” He didn’t look at Colt when he finished. “Seems this situation has scared some life back in her. Ain’t gonna thank the fucker for doin’ it but I’m glad all the same.”

Colt remained silent but hid it behind a pull off his beer.

Jack took that time to turn his attention to Colt. “Seems to me there’s advantage to be taken, son, and ain’t no one in a hundred mile radius would blame you for takin’ it.”