The End - Blackbird book 7

21

Brock kissed her forehead with a soft scoff. "Good Lord, you're adorable," he muttered by her temple. "So? What's the 'no use' supposed to mean? I'm sorry, I shouldn't ask. But I'm gonna need some navigation assistance until I get the hang of you."

His being talkative was still so surprising that helped Gillian to overcome her embarrassment.

"It's okay," she mumbled. "I don't know. I mean, I said it 'cause it's true. But now that you mention this about you cooking... Really, you shouldn't feed the leech like this."

Brock let her keep her face to his chest, avoiding eye contact, to make it easier for her to speak up. He rested back on the pillows, rubbing her arm.

"I'm flying to Michigan straight from DC on Tuesday. And who knows when I'll be free to come back. So a little leech overdose would help me through the weeks I'm staying away."

Gillian hoisted herself up to face him with a hopeful smile. "You sure?"

He was careful not to chuckle, because she looked like a happy child about to clap. He loved being the reason why she looked like that.

"Positive," he replied softly.

"And you can stay the night too, if you want."

Brock narrowed his eyes. She nodded.

"Only if you promise we'll behave. I don't wanna end up in the ER," she said.

"If I behave?" he repeated, pretending to take offense.

"Yes, sir. If you behave."

"Sir?"

"Yes. Sir."

"Careful, Gillian, then. Remember I'm your senior."

"Yeah, well, about that. You know I have an authority issue."

"Issue as in crush?"

"Issue as in problem!"

"You have a crush on Cassidy."

"What?"

"Wright, then? But you hardly saw him a couple of times."

"What're you talking about?"

"I knew it. It's Cooper. You have a crush on Cooper."

"Did you take some funny pill and forgot to share?"

"You mean I'm your only senior crush?"

"Of course!"

Gillian was laughing so hard she almost spilled her tea. Gosh! She knew she'd feel fine with Brock. And she'd already met his charming self about a year ago. But this silly-funny-chattering Brock was the best unexpected surprise ever.

As she gulped up her tea to get it out of the way, a breaking news report caught Brock's attention.

"Hey, Regan, check this out," he said, sitting up.

Gillian turned to the TV and saw a reporter broadcasting live from a gas station by some secondary road. Behind him, the access to the restrooms was tapped off, and she saw uniforms keeping people away. Past the yellow tape, a young fit man and a woman studied the place, latex gloves on. They wore FBI light jackets.

"...and the local police have no clues to follow on the brutal murder of a girl here, two nights ago. But this morning, federal agents joined the police—you can see them behind me, at the crime scene. As you all remember, the dead body of a girl was found in the restrooms yesterday morning, at dawn. The FBI agents declined to comment on their presence here, but one of our sources say they suspect this murder can be related to other cases the FBI in Worcester is looking into. So we can't help asking ourselves, is this the work of a serial killer?"

"Worcester agency," Brock repeated under his breath, and reached out to grab his phone.

"That's Henderson," Gillian said.

Her words made Brock recognize the young agent on screen. Gillian saw the phone in his hand and shook her head.

"Don't bother. I'll ask T to get whatever they have."

Brock observed her from under a mild scowl. "You mean to take a look at the case. And if it's a serial, you're gonna talk to Cooper and volunteer to go lend a hand."

Gillian nodded, curious. Was Brock jealous about her possibly working with her former lover?

Brock nodded too. "So you do need to see Doctor Cole, to be cleared for active duty. Else, Cooper won't listen to a word you say."

"Yeah," she muttered. Brock. Jealous. Anytime.

His mild business scowl turned questioning. "Did you expect me to be jealous or mad about you working with him?"

Gillian rolled her eyes—stupid profiler! He waited for her to meet his eyes again. She saw his smile and sighed, resigned to bear the mandatory upcoming mock. But she forgot it was Brock.

"I can be jealous of many men, Regan. Actually, of most men on earth. But never of Henderson."

Her femme pride restored, she frowned, curious again. Brock arched his eyebrows.

"I hate showing off. But back when you dated him, he asked me to sign that manual for you only to get you in the mood. So no, I don't think of him as a rival."

Spoken like a true alpha, Brockner. Who knew! Bedding her sure was a major boost to your self-esteem, huh?

Brock didn't expect her grin.

Actually, neither did she. But there it was.

He smiled and tugged at her to bring her back to his side. "You never cease to amaze me," he said, kissing her hair.

"Hope you'll still have me when I run outta rabbits in my hat."

"That's what you think of me? I'm hurt."

"Me too," she replied. "I can hardly feel my legs. Wonder who's to blame for that."

They chuckled again and she rested her arm across his belly. Brock nodded at the phone in her hand.

"I'll call Lawrence," he said. "You call Doctor Cole."

She stuck to him. "Now...?"

Her purring question tightened Brock's arm around her. But she had a point. So he took her phone from her hand and dropped it by his on the nightstand.

Gillian cuddled up against him when his other arm held her too. She felt him sigh and closed her eyes, still smiling. She could rest now. She didn't need to be watchful around the clock. She was safe. Actually, she was in the safest place of the universe.

She fell asleep to his heartbeat, regular and relaxed.

But she didn't dream of him.

She didn't need to.

Anymore.

.

.

THE END

--for real!

Monica Prelooker - Bariloche, Patagonia - Octubre 2016