The station was cold, sterile. Riley's footsteps echoed as she walked down the long hallway toward the interrogation room. Her hands fidgeted at her sides, and her mind raced with everything that had happened. She still felt the weight of the man's body hitting the floor, his blood staining her hands. The memory was a blur—so much had happened in such a short time—but now, in the stark brightness of the station, it all felt suffocatingly real.

She didn't know what to expect. They had called her in first thing that morning, not giving her much time to gather her thoughts. Luke had barely said a word the entire ride to the station. He'd been distant ever since they'd... been interrupted. The heat of him still lingered on her lips, but there was no time to process any of that now. She had to face the consequences of what had happened at the club.

Two officers stood by the door as she approached, one of them nodding for her to enter. She glanced back at Luke, who was standing a few feet away, arms crossed, his face unreadable. Her heart clenched at the shift in his demeanor, as if his head hadn't been in between her legs as he whispered compliments against her core less than an hour ago. She wanted to ask him if this was going to be okay, if they were going to be okay, but there was no time. She stepped inside.

The room was bare except for a metal table and two chairs. Sergeant Harris, a no-nonsense officer known for her strictness, sat across from the empty seat, her expression hard. Next to her sat a man in a suit, clearly an internal affairs investigator. Riley's stomach churned as she sat down, feeling the weight of their eyes on her.

"Officer Torres," Harris began, her voice clipped. "We need to talk about what happened last night."

Riley nodded, her throat dry. "Of course."

The investigator leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he flipped through the file in front of him. "You're aware that a man was killed at the club last night, correct?"

"Yes," Riley said, her voice shaking slightly. "I was there."

"And you were the one who did it, correct?"

Riley's heart pounded in her chest, the gravity of the question hitting her all over again. "Yes, I... I didn't have a choice."

"No choice?" the investigator pressed, his tone sharp. "You entered a private back room where this man was partaking in a private meeting, and you killed him. Explain to me how that qualifies as having no choice."

Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn't expected this. The accusatory tone, the way the man's eyes bore into her like she was already guilty. "He had a knife," she said, her voice stronger this time. "He was going to kill me. He—he was hurting me. I didn't have a choice."

The investigator glanced at Sergeant Harris, who remained silent, her gaze steady. He leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against the table. "Were you aware of the protocols in place for entering dangerous situations without backup? Why didn't you wait for your training officer to arrive?"

Riley bristled at the question. "I didn't know I was walking into a dangerous situation."

"And you're certain that the victim—excuse me, the suspect—was a threat to you?"

Her jaw clenched at the word "victim." It felt like a slap in the face. "Yes," she said firmly. "He had a weapon. He was going to use it."

"Officer Torres," the investigator continued, his tone growing colder, "we're trying to understand if this was a case of necessary force or—"

"Or what?" Luke's voice cut through the room like a knife, sharp and clear.

Riley's heart skipped a beat as the door opened and Luke strode inside, his expression stormy. He moved toward the table, not bothering to ask for permission to enter. The investigator frowned, clearly irritated by the interruption.

"Officer Maddox," he said, his tone tight. "We're conducting an interview—"

"I know exactly what you're doing," Luke shot back, standing next to Riley. His voice was calm, but there was a dangerous edge to it. "And you're making it sound like she walked in there and killed someone for fun."

"Officer—" the investigator began, but Luke didn't let him finish.

"She didn't go in there because she felt like it," Luke continued. "The man was armed. He had her hostage. He would've killed her." He glanced down at Riley, his eyes fierce with conviction. "She made the right call. And I stand by that."

Sergeant Harris finally spoke, her voice steady. "We're just doing our due diligence, Maddox. There's protocol to follow."

"I get that," Luke said, his voice softening slightly as he looked at Harris. "But this was self-defense. We both know that."

The investigator shifted uncomfortably, clearly caught off guard by Luke's unwavering stance. After a long pause, he sighed, setting down his pen. "The footage from the club does show that the suspect was armed," he admitted grudgingly.

Riley exhaled slowly, the tension in her chest easing just a little. It wasn't over, but at least now the truth was coming out.

The investigator straightened, flipping his file shut. "Based on the evidence and witness testimony, it does appear that Officer Torres acted in self-defense."

Riley's shoulders sagged in relief. She wanted to thank Luke, to say something, but the words wouldn't come.

Harris leaned forward, her eyes sharp. "That being said, Torres, you're on mandated leave until you complete a full psychological evaluation."

Riley's stomach dropped again. "What?"

Harris' expression didn't change. "You'll need to meet with the department's therapist and get cleared for duty before you're allowed back on the streets."

"But—"

"No arguments, Torres," Harris cut in. "This is non-negotiable. You went through a traumatic event. The department needs to be sure you're mentally ready to return to the field."

Riley's mouth went dry. She hadn't expected this. She wanted to fight it, to tell them she was fine, but deep down, she knew that wasn't entirely true. Last night's events still clung to her like a shadow.

"You'll be on paid leave," Harris continued, her tone softening slightly. "And we'll get you set up with an appointment as soon as possible. But until then, you're off duty."

Riley nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

"Go home," Harris said, her voice firm but not unkind. "Rest. We'll handle the paperwork."

Riley pushed back her chair, her legs feeling unsteady as she stood. Luke stepped back, giving her space but staying close. She glanced at him as they walked toward the door, the weight of everything pressing down on her.

Outside the room, she turned to him, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

Luke's eyes softened, and for a brief moment, the tension between them seemed to dissolve. "You don't have to thank me," he said quietly. "You did the right thing. Don't forget that."

But as they walked out of the station together, Riley couldn't shake the feeling that, even though she was off the investigation, this was far from over.

_____________________________________________

Sergeant Donnelly was sitting at the head of the table, shuffling through paperwork as the detectives and Luke sat around her. The room buzzed with tension as the conversation continued about the next steps for the case, but Riley felt a pit of dread in her stomach. She already knew what was coming.

"Torres," Donnelly said, his voice sharp, bringing her out of her thoughts. "As of this morning, you're officially pulled from the investigation. It's mandatory leave until you're cleared by a therapist. Honestly, you shouldn't even be a part of this meeting, but I'm willing to let it slide this once."

Riley's gut twisted. "Pulled from the case?" she echoed, trying to keep her voice steady. She'd suspected this would happen, but hearing it said out loud still felt like a punch to the chest.

Donnelly gave her a firm look. "Yes, and it's not up for debate. After what happened last night, we're lucky things didn't go worse. You need time to recover—and the department needs to cover its bases. We can't risk anyone in your condition continuing on this case."

Riley's eyes flicked over to Luke, who sat across the table, his jaw clenched, tension radiating from him. He hadn't spoken yet, but she knew this wasn't easy for him either. Not after what they'd been through.

"The people at the club didn't have any of your real information," Detective Meyers chimed in, "so as far as we know, you're safe. But we want you to take your gun home with you, just in case. We can't be too careful."

Riley swallowed hard and nodded. Her apartment wasn't exactly a fortress, but it was home. She would be fine. Right?

"Now, about Maddox." Donnelly turned to Luke, and Riley tensed. "We can't afford to pull you too. They'll know something's up if you disappear, so you're going back undercover. Immediately."

Luke's eyes darkened, and Riley saw the storm brewing there. She knew him well enough by now to see how much he hated this decision. But he didn't argue. He never did. Not when it came to the job.

Donnelly leaned forward, addressing the room. "The real question is whether we have enough evidence to start making arrests now. We've got plenty of intel on their operations, and if we move now, we can take down the whole warehouse crew." He paused, glancing around the room. "But there's one major issue—we still don't have their supplier."

The detectives murmured in agreement. Everyone knew that taking down the middlemen was important, but it wasn't enough. The supplier was the key to shutting down the entire operation.

"If we arrest now," Detective Jackson added, "we'll spook the supplier, and they'll disappear. We need more time to dig deeper."

Luke finally spoke, his voice low and calm. "I can get closer to the supplier if I stay under. Give me a little more time, and I'll get the name."

The room went quiet. It was a risk, and everyone knew it. If Luke stayed under longer, he'd be walking a fine line between maintaining his cover and getting caught. But if anyone could pull it off, it was Luke.

Donnelly finally nodded. "Alright. No arrests yet. We keep digging."

The meeting wrapped up quickly after that, but Riley could barely focus on the rest of the conversation. She was already being pushed out, sidelined, and the feeling left a hollow ache in her chest. This case had been everything for her for weeks, and now she was being forced to sit on the sidelines while Luke went back into the lion's den.

As people filed out of the room, Detective Jackson caught up to her near the door. "Hey," he said, his usual smirk softened into something almost sincere. "I'm glad you're okay, Torres. Last night could've gone a whole lot worse."

Riley offered him a tight smile, grateful for the words. "Thanks, Jackson. I'm still wrapping my head around it."

He nodded, giving her shoulder a light squeeze before walking off, leaving her alone near the doorway. She exhaled slowly, trying to push down the mix of frustration and fear that threatened to overwhelm her.

She was just about to head for the exit when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to find Luke standing there, his expression unreadable but his eyes intense.

"Torres," he said quietly.

"Luke," she replied, feeling the familiar warmth his presence always seemed to bring, no matter the situation.

He glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one was within earshot, before stepping closer. "I need to talk to you before I head back in."

Her heart clenched. She knew this would be the last time they could talk for who knew how long.

"When do you leave?" she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

"I should've left already," he admitted. "I just... needed to see you one last time."

Riley swallowed. He was going back- and she wouldn't hear from him for weeks, maybe months. Her heart fluttered at the thought of not knowing where he was, not knowing if he was okay.

He reached out, his hand brushing against hers, barely touching, but the small contact sent a ripple through her. "You're tough, Riley. But I need you to be careful."

"I'm always careful," she said, forcing a smirk.

He gave her a look that told her he wasn't buying it. "You better be."

There was a long pause between them, the air thick with unspoken words and feelings neither of them knew how to express. Finally, Luke sighed, glancing toward the door. "I have to go."

Riley nodded, her throat tight. "Yeah."

Before she could say anything else, Luke stepped forward, pulling her into a tight, fierce hug. She froze for a second, taken by surprise, but then she melted into him, her arms wrapping around his waist. She could feel his heartbeat, steady but fast, and it somehow calmed the storm inside her.

"Take care of yourself," he murmured against her hair, his voice low.

"You too," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Luke pulled back, his hands lingering on her arms for a moment longer before he finally let go. He gave her one last, lingering look, then turned and walked away, disappearing down the hallway.

Riley stood there, rooted to the spot, watching him leave, her heart heavy with a mixture of worry and something else she couldn't quite name.