Free Blindside by Jayden Alexander

dig in her limited ways, the screen a muted flash of blue, the least painful color in the spectrum.
    Crash came back about fifteen minutes later. “Truckload of data from IA. Want that as well?”
    “It’s bullshit,” Lana heard herself saying before she could force her mouth to zip, the room around her suffocating in shadows, rain scratching fingernails over the windows she kept shut. Next door, the neighbors went to round three.
    You’re no hero . Not her business.
    “Not my place to judge,” came through the laptop speakers. “Although I had this friend that used to say if there’s smoke….”
    “Yeah, give me everything you got from the IA.”
     
      “You can’t let them see you’re nervous.” Nicky sipped his own coffee, his dark gaze clear and somber on her face.
    “Because I’m Rossini?”
    “That. And because they’ll think you got something nervous to be about. Where’s there’s smoke and all.”
    Big Al abandoned her to sniff the tower of boxes by the sofa. She kept ordering decorations, picking just the right pieces to display in the gorgeous corner apartment with huge windows to let in light.
    “You want to talk about what crawled up your rear?”
    Nick rubbed his hands over dark, tired eyes.
    “Why do you want the job? Forget the third generation cop thing. Why do you want it?”
    She studied him over the hunk of bread “I don’t have time for psychobabble. And you aren’t weaseling out of this conversation again.” She brought up the big guns. “Or I’m calling Mom.”
    He didn’t smile back. “I’m serious.”
    And looking into his face, Lana saw that he was. “I want to help people.”
    “Why?”
    She tore off another chunk of black bread—the only thing she’d eaten for weeks after her parents took her from the orphanage. “I don’t know, Nick. Protect the innocent.”
    “You can’t save everyone.”
    “I know.”
    He dragged a hand through shaggy hair. “Look, you’ll do great. I’m just…tired. Working OT too long.”
    The city cut out overtime because of the new budget. She put the bread on top of the fridge where Big Al probably couldn’t reach it and walked behind Nicky to smack him on the head.
    “Cut out the bull and spill it.”
    “Look, Rookie—”
    “No.” She dragged a chair to sit across from him and look him in the eye to see if he was lying. “The truth this time.”
    “I can’t. Not for a couple of days.” He pushed a hand through the shag of his hair. “Do me a favor. Keep Big Al for a few days? I’ve been working so much, he hasn’t had a decent walk in weeks.”
     
    The damned dog stole her ice cream. While she paced the floor, waiting for Crash to come back online, Big Al licked through most of the carton.
    When she tripped over a chewed-up water bottle, she flipped on dim blue light to see Big Al’s innocent grin over the demolished cardboard that used to be ice cream. Pointless to yell after the fact, and since he had to wait for his walk after sunset, Lana let him off the hook this time. Nothing like bribery to ease some of the guilt.
    Two in the afternoon was when they slept, with her having come back from “work,” exhausted. And if she was exhausted not only from chasing leads but chasing dealers off the street, nobody had to know.
    A ping from her computer indicated Crash came back online. She stepped onto a knotted-up rope toy and was rewarded with a warm tongue on her bare foot.
    “That was quick.”
    A soft grunt was her answer. “The city’s got shit for security. I got your data. IA records, medicals, family. Adopted sister named Svetlana.”
    She didn’t like the way he pronounced her name, putting the emphasis on the first syllable. Then again, not like she spoke much of the language.
    “Something pop on her?”
    At the quick tap of keys, the itch between her shoulder blades fueled the burn of lava.
    “Russian name. Funny.”
    A slap next door. The dog stopped licking his chops long enough to whine.
    “Yeah?