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mit her deficiencies aloud. "I don't relate to people very well." |
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McCall shoved himself away from the window and paced the room without looking at her. "I've been where he is. I know what it's like to be so filled with despair dying looks good in comparison to enduring one more day. When things get that bad you need a miracle to turn yourself around." |
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Raw pain tinged his voice, and D.J. shifted from one foot to another in discomfort. What the hell should she say to him? |
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"Aah, I'm sorry. . . ." She floundered to a stop as McCall swung around midpace and glared at her. "You're better now, though. I mean, you seem all right. Not suicidal." She bit her lip. God, she couldn't stop making a mess of this. As usual. |
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"Don't worry, D.J. I won't fall apart on you. I'm sure all this emotion has been a strain on your logical cop personna." McCall went to the door and held it open for her. "We'd better get downstairs before Lou sends someone after us." |
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At the mention of Lou, D.J. grimaced. She hoped he didn't get in any trouble for allowing her to come with him on this call. If he did, she'd have to hope she could talk fast enough and hustle hard enough to get him off the hook. |
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As they stepped into the elevator, D.J. glanced over at McCall. Lost in his own thoughts, he pushed the button for the lobby and stared at the descending numbers on the consol above the doors. With his head tilted just that way, the muscles in his neck stood out. She wanted to reach out and trace them with her fingers, wrap her hand around the back of |
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