Free Covert Identity by Maria Hammarblad

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    Sharon expected him to disappear the following weekend, too. After seeing some of his friends, being alone scared her less than meeting them again. She still didn't look forward to going to bed alone and waking up alone, but she wouldn't bug him about it.
    On Thursday night he sank down on the sofa, opened a beer, and stretched his long legs out. "So, wha'cha wanna do this weekend?"
    The question made her want to weep with relief.
    She couldn't show him that.
    "Mona's coming over for a bit tomorrow. After that, I don't know."
    He nodded and she curled up with her head resting against his shoulder.
    "Want my beer?" He sounded like he smiled, but even if he was joking he would probably give it up if she claimed it.
    "No, but thank you."
    "Are you okay?
    What a fine looking question. "Yes, but that stuff in Sebring was weird."
    "You wanted to see something of my other life. Now you know."
    There wasn't much she could say about that. She had wished for information, and she had it. He had been right all along: she hated it.
    Hopefully, she'd never have to experience it again. Why he stayed with them was beyond her, but maybe the problem would solve itself given some time.
    Jimmy brushed a finger over her cheek. "I think Doug fell for you. He asked for your number."
    "Doug?"
    "You called him Mr. Hate."
    The mere thought of Jimmy's friend made her want to hide somewhere. Were they friends? Could she ask?
    She should probably leave it alone.
    The next day, Mona came over when Jimmy was still out. She brought wine and snacks, and wanted whiskey. It was still early when she left in a taxi, so Sharon helped herself to another drink and turned on the stereo.
    "Aaah, the 1980s, what music."
    No one was there to answer her, but Communards sang "Don't Leave Me This Way" and she joined them.
    When Jimmy came home she pulled him close and kissed him, hands wandering down to his firm behind. He pushed her away after just a few moments, holding her at arm's length.
    "What's wrong?"
    His eyes were warm and kind, but his words still confused her.
    "I don't take advantage of drunk women."
    I'm not drunk. Hmm, that might not be entirely true.
    "But we are... I mean..."
    What were they? Was she his girlfriend? The word sounded childish, but there wasn't a better term. It didn't matter; she was afraid to voice the question. Few things scared men away faster than talking about relationships.
    Jimmy smiled. "I know we are, but you should know you're always safe with me, no matter what. Now, if you sit down right here, I'll make you dinner."
    The situation seemed backwards to her, but she still obeyed.
    She fell asleep on the sofa that night, resting against him, and woke from him saying, "Time for bed, young lady."
    He hauled her up and carried her to the bedroom, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.
    "You're strong."
    "That I am."
    He tucked her in and it only took a few seconds before she slept again. The next morning, he woke her with orange juice and coffee.

Chapter Eight
    ––––––––
    J immy pulled up to the club and turned off the engine.
    The sun burned hot enough to create dazzling mirages over the asphalt, and the large and drab building couldn't look less inviting.
    This would be a great day for a barbecue in Sharon's back yard. Sit in the shade, have a couple of beers, invite her crazy friend with the shotgun.
    He drew a deep breath, flexed his hands, and entered through a side door. Even the corridor smelled of despair, and the door at the other end opened to a dark and filthy room.
    Why did it have to be dogs?
    People had a choice. The men around him had reached this place and time through a long row of bad decisions. They chose to walk down a road that might be lined with a certain degree of friendship and belonging, but also with violence, danger, and crime.
    A dog didn't get to choose.
    I've been doing this for too long.
    When he started working undercover in a past that seemed as distant as a world