Done [Running to Love 4] (Siren Publishing Classic) by Allyson Young Page A

awhile.”
    Greg watched Lacey’s face tighten and her lips flatten into a thin line. He hadn’t made any progress with her, or if he had, it had diminished overnight. He took her elbow and ushered her out of the kitchen and toward the front door, nodding to Mrs. Withers, who watched anxiously. Lacey was rigid in his grasp and didn’t speak again until they were behind the closed door of her apartment.
    “I’d like you to leave, Greg,” she said, moving to put the brocade couch between them.
    “I’m not going anywhere, Lacey. We are going to talk about some things, and you are going to hear me out.” Greg held up a hand against Lacey’s attempt to interrupt him. “I’m not giving you a choice in this, Lacey.”
    She flushed and then went pale. “What makes you think that you have any right to tell me what I’m going to do or not do, Greg?”
    “You gave me your submission in everything intimate between us, baby.” Greg saw her wince but resolutely continued. “This is as personal and intimate as it gets.”
    Lacey laughed, an ugly, bitter sound, so different than her usual musical laughter. “You forfeited that about five months ago, buddy. You might not recall, but I do.”
    “I don’t remember a great deal about that time, Lacey, as a matter of fact. I do recollect what I said to you when I walked out that final day, and I’m sorry for that. I blamed you, and that was unfair and untrue.”
    “Just what is it that you want from me, Greg? If you were thinking you owed me anything, consider it paid. You’ve done quite enough, actually.”
    Lacey sounded so unlike her, so bitter and resentful that Greg realized the depths of her anger were yet unplumbed. But he had to try, regardless of the price.
    “I doubt I’ll ever be able to make it up to you, honey. But I love you, and I’m willing to try. I am asking you to hear me out.”
    Lacey shrugged, and her shoulders slumped. She looked exhausted. She came around to the front of the couch to sit down and then curled up in a corner. For a moment Greg felt like a supplicant, and he welcomed the feeling and the opportunity. He retrieved her coffee and cinnamon bun and set it on the coffee table before taking a seat beside her, careful to give her space.
    Greg started at the beginning. He summarized what had taken place the night KarLynn was stabbed and the ensuing events, now able to recite them without the incapacitating upheaval of emotions. He told Lacey that it was all he could do to focus on providing support to his partner, and indicated that she had ridden him emotionally like a rented mule. At the time he had welcomed the barrage of accusations and projected blame, because it meshed with his deep-seated guilt. The rest of his life had continued on remote control. He knew his job inside and out and recognized now that he had performed the job as if from a great distance, alienating many of his fellow officers, although his good friends, the ones who knew him, were more tolerant and not as judgmental. The bosses didn’t care as long as he kept a low profile. Lacey didn’t move throughout his prelude to what he now accepted had been unconscionable treatment of her, but was obviously listening to him, despite her flat affect and seeming indifference.
    “I was locked into some kind of robotic state, Lacey, to kind of protect myself and keep on going, and I regret that you got caught up in it. You were absolutely wonderful to me, I know it.” Greg tried to explain what his therapist had helped him grasp, how his psyche had known the imperative of pulling him out of his funk and extricating him from the irrational assumption of guilt. He talked about how his inner Greg, the alpha male, had resisted Lacey’s patient and accepting presence because it was contributing to, even supporting, his passive avoidant behavior.
    “Are you saying that I held you back? Kept you from figuring this all out sooner?” Lacey’s quiet question was laced with