Criminal Hearts

Chapter 5: Breaths Between the Shadows

Sophia leaned against the cool, red brick wall just outside the precinct. The argument with Ethan still rang in her ears, his harsh words echoing in her mind as she tried to catch her breath. Her hands trembled slightly, her body betraying the calm facade she had worked so hard to maintain. The meeting had been a mess, and the tension between them felt almost suffocating.

She hadn't expected it to be this difficult. After years of trying to forget, of burying the memories, seeing Ethan again had torn open wounds she thought had long since healed. His voice, the same deep tone that had once brought her comfort, now only stirred the ache inside her. And now, here they were—back together on a case that was more twisted than anything she had worked on in recent years.

Her breath was visible in the chilly air, the early morning fog rolling in from the bay. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall. She had only been outside for a few minutes, but it felt like hours. The noise from the precinct—phones ringing, footsteps clattering—faded behind her, leaving her alone with the whirlwind of thoughts she couldn't shake.

The door creaked open behind her, and she braced herself for another confrontation with Ethan. But the voice that broke the silence wasn't his.

"Not a fan of the precinct air?" came a deep, unfamiliar voice.

Sophia opened her eyes to find a tall man standing a few feet away, hands casually tucked into the pockets of a worn leather jacket. His dark eyes sparkled with a hint of humor, and his smile was warm, if a bit curious.

"Damian Knox," he introduced himself, taking a step closer but giving her space. "Detective. New to this team, too."

Sophia exhaled slowly, letting go of the tension she hadn't realized she was holding in her shoulders. "Sophia Taylor. Criminologist."

"I know," Damian said, flashing her a grin. "The whole precinct's been talking about you. 'The brain from out of town,' they're calling you. Heard you got a reputation for solving cases no one else could."

Sophia gave a small, tight-lipped smile. "So they say."

Damian shifted his weight, glancing back at the precinct before turning his attention fully to her. "You look like you needed to get out of there," he said casually. "Ethan can be a bit... intense sometimes. But you probably figured that out already."

Sophia's eyes flickered with something unreadable, and she quickly averted her gaze. She wasn't ready to talk about Ethan, not with someone she'd just met.

Damian, sensing her discomfort, cleared his throat and leaned against the wall beside her. "Don't worry," he said with a chuckle. "I'm not here to pry. Just thought I'd say hi. Seems like you could use a moment to breathe."

She appreciated that—his easygoing nature, the way he didn't push her for more than she was willing to give. It was a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions she had just left behind in that room.

"I needed some air, yeah," Sophia admitted, glancing out at the quiet street. "It's been a long morning."

"I get that," Damian replied, his tone understanding. "New cases, new team, it can all get a little overwhelming."

Sophia offered a brief nod, still not fully at ease but grateful for the small reprieve from the chaos inside.

The door swung open again, and both turned to see Ethan standing there, his posture rigid. His eyes flicked from Damian to Sophia, a muscle tightening in his jaw. He didn't say anything for a moment, just stood there with an unreadable expression before stepping toward them.

"We need to head to the crime scene," Ethan said, his voice clipped. He wasn't looking at Damian, only at Sophia. "There are things we might have missed. The scene's still fresh enough that your insights could be useful."

Sophia straightened, her breath catching in her throat for a brief second before she gave a small nod. "Of course," she replied, her tone all business now.

Damian stood up from the wall, his brows lifting as he looked between them. "You need another set of eyes?" he asked, though his gaze lingered on Sophia. "I could come along."

Ethan's eyes narrowed, and though he kept his tone neutral, there was no missing the undercurrent of tension. "We're good. Thanks."

Sophia glanced at Damian, catching the brief flicker of amusement in his expression before he shrugged. "Your call," he said lightly, though there was something knowing in his smile.

Without another word, Ethan turned and headed toward his car. Sophia hesitated for a moment before following, the heavy silence between them only growing thicker as they walked.

The drive to the crime scene was long, and neither of them spoke. The air inside the car felt like it was being pulled taut, ready to snap at any moment. Sophia stared out the window, watching the city rush by, her mind racing through the details of the case. She didn't want to think about Ethan. She didn't want to think about the past. But being alone with him, even now, brought everything flooding back.

"How long have you known Knox?" Ethan asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Sophia blinked, caught off guard. "I just met him," she said, turning to look at him. "Why?"

Ethan's hands tightened on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "No reason," he said, but his jaw was set in that familiar way that told her there was more he wasn't saying.

She bit the inside of her cheek, resisting the urge to ask him what his problem was. It wasn't like she owed him anything—not an explanation, not a conversation, not even her time. They had their job to do, and that was it.

They arrived at the crime scene just as the sun began to pierce through the thick clouds overhead. The old, abandoned warehouse stood like a monolith against the graying sky, its windows shattered and its walls crumbling with age. Yellow tape fluttered in the breeze, marking the perimeter of the area that had become the focus of their investigation.

Sophia stepped out of the car, pulling her coat tighter around her as she surveyed the scene. Ethan followed her closely, his footsteps matching hers as they crossed the threshold into the dark, cavernous interior of the warehouse.

The smell hit her first—a mix of mold, dust, and something far more sinister. Her stomach churned slightly, but she pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand.

"We've already been through here," Ethan said, his voice low. "But I thought maybe you'd see something we missed."

Sophia nodded, her eyes scanning the area. Bloodstains marred the floor in uneven patterns, telling a story of violence and desperation. The victim—a young college student—had been found here, mutilated and discarded like garbage. And yet, there was something else—something that felt... unfinished.

She knelt by the bloodstains, her fingers lightly tracing the edges of the marks. "The killer's evolving," she murmured, more to herself than to Ethan. "This one is different from the others."

Ethan crouched beside her, his presence close enough that she could feel the heat of his body next to hers. "What do you mean?"

Sophia hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "The other victims were posed, almost ritualistically. But this one..." She gestured to the chaotic spatter of blood. "It feels rushed. Like he's losing control."

Ethan's brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing as he processed her words. "So he's escalating."

Sophia nodded. "And he'll strike again. Soon."

The gravity of her words settled between them like a weight, and for a brief moment, the tension between them shifted. They were no longer two people burdened by their shared past—they were just a criminologist and a detective, trying to stop a killer before he struck again.

But as soon as the moment passed, the walls came back up. Ethan stood, brushing the dust from his hands. "We should get back to the precinct," he said, his voice cool once again. "There's more work to do."

Sophia rose slowly, her eyes lingering on the bloodstains one last time before she followed him out into the cold light of day. The case wasn't the only thing unraveling—so was everything she had tried to keep buried.