Bang!

"No," someone cried. It sounded as if it came from her mouth.

More bullets were fired. The soft thud of crashing bodies and shouts followed soon.

Charlotte crawled low and saw Aiden crumpled on the ground. His blood oozed everywhere—unyielding and gruesome. With shaking hands, she tried to stop it. Soon, her hands were covered in a sticky mess.

Aiden groaned in agony. She sobbed harder. It was her fault. He had taken the bullet for her. Their eyes cleaved before his closed shut. She had to save him. The colour of death clung to him. No, he can't die. She wouldn't let him.

"Amelia, help me," she pleaded. Where was she? Was she dead too?

Another groan left Aiden as she pressed on the wound, but the blood kept spilling like a geyser. His body shuddered before becoming lifeless. Then he faded away. She was all alone. A white light blanketed her.

"NO!"

Charlotte bolted up. Her chest heaved violently. "Oh my God."

She buried her face in her hands as tears flooded down her cheeks. The dreams were becoming more vivid each time. The details and sounds were no longer fuzzy but sharp and vibrant. When her shivering subsided, she dried her wet cheeks.

The good news was it was already morning. She checked her phone to find selfies from Meghna, taken before the red-eye flight. It was a task to get out of bed when all she wanted to do was to curl up and have a good cry. But there was no point in feeling sorry for herself. Aiden had no interest in helping her. She was on her own.

Changing into her workout clothes, she drove to her favourite spot for a run at Central Park.  As she set the pace, she wondered if Aiden found such a simple task agonizing. How much pain was he in? Was his limp a part of him now?

After an hour of breaking a sweat, she made her way to the car, feeling better. The balmy day lifted her spirits. She yearned to capture the butterflies, the joggers and the towers of the buildings, which played peekaboo from behind the swaying trees. Too bad her camera was in the car. 

Once done, she retraced her way back to her car and gasped. One of the rear windows was broken.

Shit. Charlotte hurried over, mindful of the shards of glass on the sidewalk. It was still early in the morning and the side street was deserted. She cursed. It was the last thing she needed to add to the list of her worries.

Opening the door with great care, she surveyed the inside and documented the theft with her cell phone's camera. It was gone. Her best work was now stolen. Her Nikon camera and laptop, which contained her prized photographs from California. A weight fell on her chest when she realized it also included some of her childhood pictures with her father. She had restored them a while ago.

Charlotte put her head on the steering wheel as sadness gripped her. Anxiety overwhelmed her once more. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she drove to the police station.

The place filled her with dread. Her brother had been locked up there just last year, and the furor it had caused had been unprecedented in the family.

"State your purpose, miss," a forlorn-looking man asked without looking up from his paperwork.

"I am here to report a car break-in," she replied. Her voice came out scratchy and tired.

"Name?"

"Charlotte Weston."

The officer's head shot up. Displeasure shone behind the dark eyes. "Weston, is it?" he drawled.

"Yes," she mumbled. Had she said something wrong?

"Wait here." He shuffled out from the reception area without waiting for her response.

A few minutes had passed when the grouchy man appeared with Flynn, Aiden's former partner. "Max tells me that you are here to report a break-in," he said flatly.

She cringed at the open hostility. Maybe it was a wrong idea to come here.

"Follow me," he snapped.

With reluctance, Charlotte complied.

As they passed the various stations, she could feel angry eyes probing at her. She wasn't wanted here. Her instincts told her to leave, but she couldn't give them the satisfaction. It was her right to report the crime.

"I have been moved to a non-emergency unit as part of my disciplinary action," Ian muttered over his shoulder. "No crime unit for me. It could have been worse, like being kicked out. I grew up in the project with a single mother who only spoke Spanish and broken English. So, no trust fund waiting for me if I am fired."

Ignoring one cop who levelled a glare in her direction, she kept her silence. Was her brother behind his demotion and Aiden's dismissal? The rumours had been ripe about it for many months. New York's high society had revelled in the sensational drama right from the disastrous  beginning to its fateful conclusion.

Many had offered sympathy for her kidnapping, but most of them wanted more gossip. The fake sympathy had set Charlotte on edge.

"Sit," Ian barked, slipping into a chair behind a desk overflowing with files.

She bit her lips and sat down. Kicking a tantrum would be a bad idea.

"How can I help you?"

"My car was broken into near Central Park, and my laptop and the camera were taken. I would like them back," she told him, ignoring his mocking tone.

"Then don't park your fancy car in the street. I am sure whatever Louis Vuitton laptop or fancy camera you lost. They can be replaced with all the money you got."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Charlotte bristled.

"Look, I have files to go through. I don't have time for petty things that frazzle rich folks' sensibilities." He slammed his hands on the table. The conversation around them became muted.

Humiliated, she stood up. "I think I have wasted my time enough, Flynn." Holding her head high, she marched away, feeling their disapproval.

Pushing her way through the front door, disgust swept over her. The police were supposed to help her, yet they had made her feel culpable when she was a victim of theft. They were only pictures. She had loads more of her father. What mattered most was that he lived in her heart. People said she looked like him, from the dimple to her fair features though she had inherited her mother's lush blond hair and pert nose. 

A few hours later, she cabbed to her mother's place from the mechanic shop.  When she stepped into the cream-coloured living room, it was to find Anna roasting someone on the phone while her stepfather, Bob, looked on helplessly.

"Now what?" she mouthed to him.

"Her dress for the charity event hasn't arrived," he whispered. "I told her she has many others in her closet, but you know your mother."

Right then, Anna hung up. "Honestly, people are getting lazy these days. Oh dear, you look like a fright? What's wrong?"

There was no 'hello' or 'how are you, Charlotte?' Her mother went straight to the point, like always. She forced a smile. "Hi, mom, it's nothing. I just slept late last night."

"Why?"

"Meghna was leaving for Mumbai for a two-month trip. So, she, Gigi and I stayed late talking and doing girl's stuff," Charlotte lied. It was best not to reveal the morning's event. There was no need to rattle her mother.

"Mumbai? It must be hot at this time of the year," Bob remarked.

"Darling, didn't you go there too?" Anna looked curious. 

"I went backpacking in Asia and India was one of my destinations. This was when I needed a clean break from what happened to my..." Bob faltered before shrugging. "It did the trick."

Charlotte knew little except Bob's folks and sister had perished in a car accident and only he had survived. He and her mother had been high-school sweethearts, fresh out of college. The incident had changed everything. Bob had shut everyone out, even her mother.

He had persevered and gotten past the trauma, but it had taken years. Anna had remarried her father, but she never loved William Weston the way she had loved Bob. Her father had wallowed in misery when he had discovered the truth.

It had destroyed her family. Squashing the resentment the memory evoked, she shook her head. The past did no one good. They all had learnt that last year when she had  fallen prey to a sinister plot.

"You know what was the best thing I learnt when I was there?" Bob's eyes lit up.

"What?" Anna and Charlotte asked in unison.

"Masala chai." Bob smacked his hand on the couch's armrest and got to his feet. "I think we all need one today. Come on, girls, let's make some."

"Make some?" Anna looked baffled. "Why make some when we can order it?"

"Where is the fun in it?" Bob beckoned them. "Don't be a spoilsport. Lola, are you in?"

"Hey, I am in, but I doubt you can beat Meghna's mom, Geeta," Charlotte hopped to her feet, all game. "She gets her spice directly from an artisan Indian store and has years of experience making it."

"Maybe not. But at least you don't have to go to her place when you are craving one." Bob pulled onto his wife's hand, forcing her to get up from the couch. "Honey, you are not getting out of this."

Charlotte laughed at the look of dread on her mother's face. Anna and the cooking didn't mix together. The jaunt in the kitchen did the trick to take her mind off her worries. Her mother followed her husband's direction with the utmost attention and was delighted when she pulled off the recipe.

She caught Bob scrutinizing her.

He gave her a quick smile and busied himself in making his tea.

Aiden was in the middle of weight training when his phone rang. It was Flynn. He picked it up.

"Shoot, man," he said, short of breath.

"The chick was here."

"Who?" he asked, not getting the cryptic message.

"The Weston girl. She was here to report a car break-in. I thought to let you know," Flynn explained.

"What happened?" His heart sank.

"Not sure. She left without filing the report. Let's say she wasn't welcome here." There was a note of self-satisfied smirk in his voice.

Speechless, he struggled for words. "You got rid of her?"

"She simply left. Besides, I call it karma."

"Flynn, we serve and protect." Aiden couldn't believe he had to bring this up when talking to a police officer. The precinct had its own politics, but it served the public first. It was the law.

"You forget, Aiden. You are no more a cop," Flynn reminded him. "And you also forget, we stand for our own. Her brother got you fired, and I am doing inane duties because of it."

He sucked in a breath as if someone had punched him in the guts. "Well, thanks for letting me know." He hung up, repulsed. It was evident that their lives were different.

He headed straight to Charlotte's apartment from his workout session. The front desk guy in the lobby nodded toward the elevator banks after notifying her of his arrival.

Aiden didn't even have to knock. The door flew open and Charlotte stood, looking wary. She looked deadly hot in her red tank top and blue shorts. He stirred. Why couldn't she be born ugly? This trip would be so much better.

"Are you here to threaten me with something legal?" she asked.

"I am here to take your statement regarding the break-in you had today," he replied, catching a glimpse of her apartment. It was done in the tones of earthy browns and blues. 

"You are not a cop anymore." She looked confused.

"I fucking know it," he exclaimed, tearing his gaze back to her.

Charlotte stepped back at his reaction, closing the door halfway through. "Look, I had a rough day and I am not in the mood for anything else. Let's forget about it, okay."

He let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair. "Damn. I didn't mean to shout at you. Look, Flynn shouldn't have treated you so poorly and I am here for your statement. I will pass it on to an officer. Her name is Robin. She will contact you later on."

After a fleeting hesitation, she flung the door open to invite him in.

Her place was classy. There was nothing garish about it. As Aiden walked in, he favoured his right leg. He should have parked close by rather than three blocks away. His leg wasn't strong enough for such long walks, but his conscience hadn't cared, given her mistreatment at the station.

"We can stand in the foyer if you want rather than go into the living room," Charlotte said, staring at his left leg.

"I am injured, not an invalid," he said.

"How is your leg?"

"The physiotherapist says I can go back to loving women soon."

She crimsoned.

"No guy has ever talked dirty to you? None of the surfer dudes on the West Coast?"

"Wow, you know everything about me. You must have done a thorough investigation on my entire family." Charlotte folded her arms across her chest, realizing how he knew so much about her history and whereabouts.

"It was part of my duty." He recalled she had returned to New York when her grandfather, Henry, had passed away. "It may feel intrusive, but it was necessary."

Hurt shone in her eyes. "The surfer dudes know how to take but not give. It's some misogynist bro code." Pivoting, she headed to the couch and sat down.

Aiden regretted his words. This wasn't going well. Her soft vulnerability almost made him put his arms around her, swearing eternal protection. The sooner he got over this interview, the better.

After sitting down, well away from her, he took out his cell phone and hit the record button. "Just tell me what happened?"

"I parked at Central Park. And when I came back, my car was broken into. It was around eight in the morning. I took the evidence of the break-in with my phone. My camera and laptop were stolen. They all can be replaced. So, it's all good," she filled him in. "It's a good thing we can save everything on the cloud."

"When did you do the last backup?"

"More than a year ago," Charlotte answered, crestfallen. "I know. I know. I should do it regularly."

"Anything important on it?" he prodded.

"A few pictures I had taken for some magazines I worked on a contract basis."

Aiden could see those pictures meant something to her. "They were important?"

"Not really." Charlotte looked away.

"I will pass this on to Robin along with the pictures you have taken and see what happens." He took a detailed note of the street where she had parked her jaguar and the missing items. "I can't make any promises, but there have been a few break-ins and thefts in the area. I am assuming you don't have a car camera?"

"Um, no," she admitted with stained cheeks.

"There is always the next time," Aiden said. "As long as you are safe and your insurance covers you, it's what matters. I know this isn't what you want to hear from the police, but it's the truth in most cases." He got up. "I had better show myself out. Text me the pictures you took of the break-in."

She followed him to the foyer and said, "You were a good detective."

"What makes you say that?" He halted

"You care about people."

"I was retired."

"You took the bullet for me. If it weren't for you, I would be worse for wear. I am forever grateful. I wish I could do something for you." Again, the desire was written all over her face. 

An image of her lying naked in bed lingered in his mind. Damn! He was best shot of her. He stuffed his phone back in his pocket. "It was my duty, Charlotte," he added as an afterthought. "Had it been any other cop, they would have done the same thing for you."

"Maybe, but here you are, acting the part when your buddies in their uniforms can't even pretend otherwise," she quipped. Her eyes locked into his. They darkened to a deep blue.

Aiden's heart pounded in his chest. He could have asked Robin to take her statement, but he had rushed to her place instead. Would he have done this for any other girl? Or was it something about Charlotte that called to him?

"Well then, their loss is my gain." He tried to appear unaffected. He needed to call Brianna to take the edge off again. If he had more of a female company, he wouldn't think of Charlotte much.

"I am glad." Her smile hit him squarely in the chest.

His traitorous heart skipped a beat in approval despite the impossibility of their situation. He turned to leave.

"Wait. You dropped something."

He whirled around too fast that a sharp, blinding pain shot through his overworked leg. Swaying, he found Charlotte holding a scrap of paper.

"This looks like a list." She glanced at it with furrowed brows. "Is this for grocery?"

Oh, God, no! He watched in horror as she started to read the bucket list he had jotted down this morning to make it more real.

Not much of a writer. They were his most private thoughts, and now Charlotte would be privy to them.

Author's note: Hello to everyone from Sweden and The Philippines.

Yes, Aiden and James will have some sort of a run-in soon.