Two weeks, one day, five hours, and twelve minutes since their daughter had been born. Since he hadn’t been there, since he’d been late, since their little girl was dead, and everything had gone to shit between the two of them.
It had been awful. Sniping at each other for stupid things, backhanded compliments, work stress, no physical contact, no conversations beyond “How was your day?” “Fine. Yours?” “The same.” There was no laughter anymore. Everything that had been a source of joy for them for the past nine months had been pushed into another building in another room in a box.
Nick blinks as the sound of skin hitting skin once, loud, echoes in his ears and pulls him out of his reverie. Right. Interrogation. Their first job together since…since. And it wasn’t going well.
Pia hits the man again and Nick leans against the wall, smirking in a way he doesn’t really feel as he watches her. “You hit like a fucking girl.”