Jennifer Crusie - GETTING RID OF BRADLEY

Zack turned back to face her. “I knew it would be like this. I told Tony it would be like this. You start caring for people, and your instincts go. Hell, your brains go. I don’t mind being scared for myself. I’m scared for myself all the time. That’s just part of being a cop.” He look a deep breath. “But the way I felt about you today…no. I was so damn scared I couldn’t think. I am never… never going to feel like that about anybody ever again.”

They both stood still for a moment, silenced by the emotion between them, and then Lucy turned back to the stove, unable to cope with the pain in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. But I think you’re overreacting.” She picked up the lid again and began to stir the soup. “You and Anthony both told me that this man is only trying to scare me out of the house. Nobody thinks I’m in danger anymore. Not even you.”

“I’m overreacting.”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” He turned and left the room, and fifteen minutes later he came down with his bag packed.

Lucy felt her breath go when she saw him, but she made herself sound calm. “Leaving?”

“This isn’t going to work, Lucy,” he said. “I’m too emotional about this to be doing you any good. And you’re probably right. I probably overreacted. If you want somebody here with you for a while, I’ll call Matthews.”

Lucy swallowed. “Junior.”

“I don’t think he likes being called Junior.” Zack seemed dimmed, as if a current had been switched off inside him. “You want me to call him?”

“No.” Lucy drew a deep breath. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“Oh, the pleasure was mine.” Zack smiled tightly, “I’ve already called a patrol car to watch this place. A different one. The first guy is still pretty upset with you. And Tony will call you tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Lucy said, and he nodded and was gone.

LUCY WALKED INTO THE living room and sank down on the love seat. “What happened?” she asked Einstein when he padded over. “He wanted to marry me this morning, and now he’s gone?” The ache in her chest swelled into her throat, and she bit her lip to keep from crying. “Boy, this has been a bad month. Good thing I’m independent now.”

The lump in her throat grew until she thought she’d choke, and she concentrated on not crying.

After all, nobody had died.

It was just the emptiness inside her that made her feel like somebody had.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU doing here?” Anthony asked Zack when he came in the squad room.

Zack sank heavily into his chair. “Lucy doesn’t need a bodyguard. We all know nobody’s trying to kill her. There’s a patrol car out in front. She’s okay.”

Anthony narrowed his eyes. “We knew all this yesterday. You stayed last night.”

“Well, that was a mistake.” Zack began to sort the mound of paperwork on his desk.

“But, Lucy-”

Zack looked up. “Forget it. You tried. It didn’t work out.”

Anthony looked as innocent as he possibly could. “I didn’t…”

“Forget it.”

Anthony shrugged. “All right. It’s probably just as well. We got an interesting conversation between Lucy and her sister on the phone tap.”

“Not interested,” Zack said.

“Okay,” Anthony said, “how about this? Mrs. Dover called again.”

Zack felt himself freeze and kicked himself for it “Maybe she’s just lonely.”

“I’m starting to wonder myself.” Anthony leaned back in his chair, watching Zack. “She saw prowlers again last night and this afternoon. She’s starting to see them everywhere.”

Zack squelched the beat of fear he felt. “She’s a crazy old lady with nobody to talk to except cops.”

Anthony was still watching him closely. “We still haven’t found what’s in Lucy’s house.”

“Fine,” Zack flared. “You go over and move in with her. I’m not going back there.”

“She looked beautiful today,” Anthony said. “I like her hair red.”

“Shut up, Tony.”

“Maybe I will drop by later, to check on her, make sure she’s all right.”

Zack swiveled his chair away, cranked a report form into the typewriter, and began to pound on the keys.

“Maybe I’ll have dinner with her.”

Zack hit the return carriage with enough force to send it across the room.

“Just a thought,” Anthony said and went back to his own report.

LATE THAT EVENING, Lucy went into the bathroom and startled herself pleasurably in the mirror with her new red hair. Then she took a long, hot bath and thought about Zack.

He’d rocked her earlier with that marriage thing. Zack, of all people, planning commitment. It was like Madonna becoming a nun. Interesting but not likely to last Especially since he seemed to be basing his decision on sex and food. He hadn’t even told her he loved her. Not that she expected it. Although something along those lines usually turned up in a marriage proposal.

And then he’d walked out. Because she’d scared him.

Well, he scared her, too. He scared her because she felt so lost without him. And so lonely. It was as if the world was Technicolor with Zack and black-and-white without him. She felt colder and paler and smaller without him, shriveling without his warmth.

Well, all that was immaterial now. He was gone. It was over.

She climbed out of the tub and wrapped herself in her big terry-cloth robe and headed for the bedroom. Inside the door, she flipped on the light and walked toward the bed, only to stop about a yard from it.

It didn’t look right.

She frowned at it, trying to figure out what was wrong. Nothing. Her bed, her quilt, her embroidered pillows. She put her hands on her hips and studied it again.

Maybe the problem was that Zack wasn’t in it. Maybe this was an honest-to-God instinct kicking in.

Or maybe not.

She was still debating the problem when Heisenberg came trotting in and launched himself at the bed. Without thinking, Lucy swung out her arm and knocked him away before he could land on the quilt, and Heisenberg hit the floor and yipped and cowered away from her.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Lucy scooped him up even as he shied away again. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know…” She caressed him as she looked back over her shoulder at the bed. “No. I don’t know what this is, but we’re talking to Zack.”

The relief she felt was so overwhelming that she almost ran for the phone.

Zack’s doubts had begun the moment he’d walked out Lucy’s door, and Anthony hadn’t helped any at all with his needling. He knew he’d had a good reason for walking. His feelings for Lucy were screwing up his Me. But she was also the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he was growing increasingly more miserable without her every moment. He’d been dumb. So had she. They were both dumb, but they’d never have any dumb children now because he’d walked out instead of staying to fight.

Or talk.

He’d been at his apartment for several hours, staring at four empty walls and a moth-eaten couch, wondering why he’d never fixed the place up better and kicking himself for leaving a place that was perfect, when the phone rang. If it was Anthony trying to make him feel guilty again, he was going to pay.

Zack picked up the phone and snarled, “What?” into it.

“There’s something wrong with my bed,” Lucy said.

“Lucy?”

“There’s something wrong with my bed. I know it’s stupid, but I’m scared.”

Zack sat down on the couch, his heart hammering. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I don’t know. I was going to bed but it just didn’t seem right. And then Heisenberg tried to jump on it, and I hit him.”