CHAPTER ONE

Jane

"Hello, sir." I said to Patrick, Maura's biological father, after he called me, asking me to meet him in a very high class restaurant. It was one of the newest restaurants in Boston, built in a sky scraper looking over the entire city. The wall on the far left hand side was completely glass, allowing for natural sunlight to filter in through the UV protected windows and light the entire open space. Everything else, other than the al white furniture, was an onyx black colour.

It had been three months since I shot him and he fell of the balcony in that burned building. Maura had shunned me from her life ever since. She allowed my mother to stay in the guest house still, but told her to tell me to keep away from her.

Patrick had called me out of the blue. I thought it was going to be a trap, originally, but I saw him sitting at a table alone, reading the paper and I decided to take a chance. I didn't tell Korsak or Frost about it, nor did I tell any of my family members. They didn't need to know and I couldn't risk my mother saying something to Maura. She didn't want me to even help her father after I shot him out of reflex when he turned his gun on Frost. I didn't know what she'd do if she found out I was going to meet him.

Patrick had been rushed to the hospital under the fake name Dyson Brown in order to keep his identity a secret and keep the feds off his trail. Speaking of feds, I kicked Gabriel to the curb after the incident. Maybe it wasn't fair, but I couldn't look at him afterwards without being reminded that I shot the man who saved my best friend's life.

"Detective Rizzoli." He said, acknowledging me and gesturing to the chair across from him. I sat down carefully, suddenly nervous like a boy meeting his girlfriend's father for the first time. "How are you?"

"Honestly, Sir, not so well. How are you?"

"Been better myself." He said, hand gently touching his side. I winced internally. "I hear that you pulled some strings to keep the law enforcement away from me while I was…recovering, directing the media and the police's attention to the crooked firefighter instead." I nodded, folding my hands in my lap.

"Yes sir." I didn't exactly like the man sitting across from me, but in a way, I respected him. He did what was necessary to protect his family. Our methods were different, sure, but it was the same thing I did. Maura was my family too. Losing her was like taking another bullet straight through my heart. The way she looked at me when I rushed to help was like she was looking at a monster. At some cold blooded murderer. It killed me little by little each day she avoided me.

"I appreciated it, they would have sent me away for life if you hadn't." I nodded, flagging off the waitress when she asked if I wanted anything.

After a long moment, I couldn't help but ask him a question. "Sir?" He looked at me "if it's okay that I ask, how has Maura been? I mean, I know her mother is still recovering in the hospital and all, and with you just being released yourself—"

"When was the last time you talked to Maura." He asked, sipping his coffee. I kept my eyes on his, trying to be respectful as best I could.

"Ninety-seven days and counting." I answered, a little embarrassed that I'd been keeping track. It was hard not to. Patrick nodded, a sombre look on his face.

"Honestly, Detective—"

"Jane, please." I interrupted. He smiled just the tiniest bit.

"Jane, Maura is struggling. I've only seen her a few times since I got out of the hospital, but she's devastated at losing so much in such a short amount of time." I nodded.

"And it's my fault."

"No, it's not. You saw me turning the gun on one of your own, and you reacted to save his life. That is an honourable thing, Jane, even if it did almost kill me." He chuckled and I couldn't keep the slight smile off my face. At least he didn't hate me.

He opened his mouth to say something when the sound of squeaky Italian shoes echoed from elevator entrance of the huge restaurant. Patrick tensed, making me turn around just in time to see the raising of a pistol pointed at the Irish mob boss. He reached for a gun hidden in his side waist band and the whole world seemed to slow down.

Two scenarios played through my mind.

If Patrick fired the gun and killed the man who obviously wanted him dead, an alarm would be pulled and his cover blown. Every law enforcement officer in the state would be racing each other to arrest him. Maura would lose her father whom she was becoming fond of. And she would blame me because she would just hear that I was first on scene, not that her father invited me there.

Second option was far less complicated. The crazy guy pulling a gun in the middle of a crowded room shoots Patrick, injures him or worse, and Maura throws the blame bag at me again. It was a lose-lose situation. Either way, her father was going to be hurt again.

Unless…

Unless I threw another variable into the calculation.

Then it hit me and I did the stupidest thing I'd ever done in my entire life.

I stood up at the last second, facing the guy storming in.

Last thing I heard before I hit the floor was the gunshot.

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