Tristan puts his hand over his heart. “You can expect nothing less, Sergeant Taggart. Maybe she’ll soon be Mrs. Prescott.”
Jumping up, I move to leave because I need air, but Verna stops me. “Where are you going? I don’t have your phone number to give you my address.”
“Oh. Uh. Yeah. Sure.” Fuck me. I pull out my phone, and she recites her number. Seeing another of Audrey’s texts, I remember I need to respond.
Verna squeezes my arm and leans against me, which is stupid when I’m a loaded weapon with a gun and a temper. She whispers, “I’ll knock your socks off. And maybe more.”
I step back from her with a stiff smile, noticing Tristan watching us. He grins, and I cringe as Verna giggles. For God’s sake, she’s practically sending invitations to our wedding. Fuck that.
“I have to make a phone call,” I say, deciding it’s not a lie. Taggart narrows her laser-eyes, and I roll mine, not caring today. Go ahead, fire me.
Scrolling through my messages, I see I have texts from Dani and Jay, as well as Audrey. Getting into the cruiser, I glance at the diner and check for Taggart before dialing. When she answers, I stutter, “It’s me. I thought maybe I should call instead of text.”
Breathless, she says, “Dylan, it’s so good to hear your voice.” Her own breaks, and I hear her moving around like she’s walking. Suddenly quieter, she says, “I miss you.”
“Audrey, I…” I sigh, unsure of why I called.
“I’m sorry for hurting you,” she says between sobs.
“I didn’t call to make you cry.” No, just myself.
“I’ve been crying a lot, thinking about you. You’re there because of me.”
“Things happen for a reason, don’t they?” I say with a light chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. It was stupid to call Audrey while on duty.
“No, I broke up with you because I couldn’t deal with it.”
“With what? Our relationship? My worthless job? I wanted to work on those.”
“Your job situation scared me to death.”
“Why? I worked at fucking Best Buy. Sure as hell wasn’t dangerous, like now…” Audrey cries harder, and I sigh again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I wanted to tell you. God, I did, but then when it didn’t happen, I felt like I was given a second chance.”
I sit up straighter, the hair standing up on the back of my neck. “What’re you talking about?”
“My period was two weeks late. I took three pregnancy tests, but they were all negative. I—”
“Whoa. What? Wait a minute. You were pregnant and didn’t tell me? What the fuck?”
“Slow down. I went to the doctor, and they did tests. I wasn’t pregnant. My period came two days later. It must’ve been stress. They couldn’t tell me why it—”
“You could’ve been pregnant with my baby, and you didn’t feel the need to share that with me?”
Audrey cries again. “You didn’t have a great job, and with me still in school, I thought life as I knew it was about to change. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to accomplish everything I want to if I had to drop everything to have a baby.”
“Again. You didn’t think to involve me?”
“I was scared!”
“I don’t get it. You were on birth control, Audrey.”
“It wasn’t all my fault!”
“But not telling me? That is your fault. Yeah, I was there. Fuck. Unless I wasn’t…”
“It would’ve been yours. I didn’t cheat on you.”
“So, if you had been pregnant, what then? You would’ve gotten rid of it without telling me?”
“No!”
“Oh, I get it now. You still would’ve broken up with me but kept me around for child support?”
“I don’t know what I would’ve done. We were in no position to marry.”
“We would’ve still been together! I wouldn’t have left you!”
“I was afraid you’d dump me!”
“Well, fuck. You didn’t want to be on the business end of a breakup? Wow.” She sniffs and rattles the phone as she blows her nose. Glancing at the diner, I see Taggart talking to Doris near the door. Shit. “So, you had a pregnancy scare and kept me in the dark. And to shake the shock, you killed our relationship instead of talking to me. It would’ve scared me, too, but I wouldn’t have run away.”
“Breaking up with you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I didn’t want to have another scare like that when your job wasn’t great.”
“I fucking loved you. I would’ve been there with you every step of the way, no matter how hard it would’ve been for us.”
“I know. That’s the kind of man you are. But for us both to get somewhere in life, neither of us needed a marriage or a baby. We would’ve been miserable.”
“It would’ve been fucking rough, but having a baby with the woman I loved? I wouldn’t call that miserable.”
Between sobs, Audrey says, “Don’t tell me that now.”
“You mean since I was a loser, you didn’t think I’d step up…right?” Audrey doesn’t answer me, and that hurts worse than actually saying that shit out loud. “You thought I’d dump you because I accidentally got you pregnant? Damn it, Audrey. I thought you knew me better than that. Because I loved you more than that.”
Taggart ambles down the stairs, and I say, “Look, I have to get back to work.”
“Please don’t hate me. I love you. I always will.” She tearfully sighs, and it’s nearly my undoing when she whispers, “I want you back. I fucking miss you.”
Closing my eyes, I nod at nothing. “I can’t do this now. Bye.” I end the call, shove my phone into my pocket, and turn toward my window, wiping my eyes. I’m such a moron for calling her. I need to get my shit together.
After she closes the passenger door, Taggart irritably asks, “What’s your problem?” I hear her rustling her notepad, probably writing down how badly I suck.
“Nothing,” I mutter and put the car in reverse.
When I look ahead, Taggart points at me. “Don’t screw it up with that young lady by running around with other women before the banquet.” I slam on the brakes before I make it out of the lot. Since Taggart doesn’t have her seatbelt on yet, she whips forward, dropping her notepad. “What in the Sam Hill was that? Did you learn to drive yesterday?”
“Why do you insist on insulting me and making erroneous assumptions about my reputation?”
Taggart resituates herself, still frowning. “Such big words, McGrath. Did you find a thesaurus?”
“Fine! Stop putting me down and saying shit about me that isn’t true!”
“Watch your mouth, officer!”
“Since you’re obviously out of the loop, I’m not a lady’s man, a skirt-chaser, or a womanizer! I’ve only had one girlfriend!” Taggart’s mouth drops open in an unexpected move, and I instantly regret I said anything, but fuck it. I’ve come this far. “I don’t appreciate being judged and written off. So, knock it off.” Realizing how much I just spewed, I tack on, “Please.”
Taggart’s frown doesn’t evolve either way, and she bends to pick up her notepad. When she sits up, I take my foot off the brake and approach the road. Only the radio chatter fills the car for about a mile until Taggart says, “I apologize, officer. Very few people prove me wrong. I suppose what I’ve read and heard about you don’t explain the entire story.”
I clear my throat, fucking irritated but surprised. “Thank you, and no one really knows me here.”
“Maybe that’s because you’ll shoot them in the foot.”
“It was his leg.”
“Okay. Enough lollygagging. I have a report to write before shift’s over and I get ready for tonight. Don’t make me late.”
One thing about Taggart, she would never fail to tell me if I make her late.
Chapter 15
Pulling to the curb, I pick up my phone to text Verna, not wanting her to get the wrong idea about how much of a date this is by go
ing to the door. As I type, the passenger door swings open with a squeal. “Look at you!” Verna’s mouth hangs open as she peers into my car, her pasty tits nearly knocking me out, and not in a good way. Verna’s dark blue velvet dress is more than I imagined she’d wear to a police banquet, and her hair is a statement all its own, resembling a beehive from the fifties. Son of a fuck.
“Hey, Verna. You look nice.” With that lie, I flinch and set down my phone.
“Thanks!” Tossing her matching purse inside, she plops onto the passenger seat, still staring at me. As I pull away from the curb, I venture to ask, “What?”
“You are mighty handsome, Officer McGrath.” Not arguing with her to stop calling me that, I roll my eyes at oncoming traffic.
“Uh, okay. Thanks.” So fucking awkward. I avoid looking at her while I drive, fighting the urge to veer off the road into an explosion guardrail.
“I can’t believe I’m dating a police officer! None of my friends believed me.” You’re definitely not. This was such a mistake.
This time, I glance at her. “I want to reiterate that we’re just friends.” If that.
Ignoring that, she excitedly whispers, “Did you bring your gun? Will you protect me while I serve you?” She laughs, and I wish I died at birth. “Get it? I’m a waitress who’s serving you? And you can take that any way you want it.”
“No gun tonight.” Fuck. Another lousy life decision.
“How will you keep me safe, then?”
“You’ll be fine.” I’m the one who won’t be.
“But I’ll need you to keep me super close to you. All night.”
“Friends, Verna.”
“Isn’t that how all couples start out at first?”
I clear my throat as I grip the steering wheel harder. “Not always.”
Verna grabs my hand on my leg, squeezing it. Surprised, I swerve but recover. “Well, look at us. We’re friends already.”
I flex my hand out of her hold, using it to itch my left shoulder and then grabbing the steering wheel. I inhale before saying, “Verna, I recently got out of a long-term relationship. I’m not ready to date.” Hopefully, that will shut her up.
“I’ll help you through it. If it’s an ear to bend, a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, or…more.” Is this night over yet?
I mutter, “I can’t talk about it.” First truth of the night.
Arriving at the banquet hall, I park and get out of the car, opening the rear passenger door to retrieve my tux jacket. Verna remains inside, probably waiting for me to open her door. Nope. Can’t go there. She’s already in way too deep with her damn expectations for tonight.
Rounding the rear of my car, I shove my hands into my pockets and wait for her to exit, which she eventually does. When she stands, she shimmies, straightening her dress, and then adjusts her tits with a grin, neither of which does anything for me. Grinning, she hobbles over to me on sky-high heels and eagerly loops her arm with mine, despite me not offering.
Instead of pushing her away, I sigh. If she falls on her ass, it’ll force me to give a damn. Verna grips me tightly as we walk. “I think you’ll need to help me out of this dress later.” She elbows my side with a knowing smirk that I see, unfortunately.
“Don’t you have a roommate?”
She frowns and hits my arm. “Well, yeah. But what fun is that? And no, I’m not into threesomes like you joked about this week.” I’m for any threesome involving her that doesn’t include me.
Not answering since I’m on the verge of offending Verna without regrets, I untangle myself from her to open the door, keeping some of my manners. Following Verna through the second set of doors, I’m disappointed when she takes my unoffered arm in the crowded lobby. Off to the side, people are lining up for pictures. A hand tugs on my other arm. “It’s about time you got here,” Taggart grumbles. Her olive-green pantsuit is not unexpected. She probably got married in uniform.
Before I say hello, Verna teeters over to Taggart and hugs her, which is stupid, to say the least. Taggart’s frown deepens, and she doesn’t put her arms around Verna in return. Her glare then turns to me, and I resist laughing or running out of here for the sake of my job.
Jerking away from Verna, Taggart says, “Pictures. Go get one with your fellow officers. They’re lining up now.”
“No, thanks.”
“It wasn’t a request.”
When her glare proves too much to fight, I sigh. Walking over to the crowd, I see Grant, who offers his hand. “You clean up pretty good.”
“What’re you doing here?” I ask, irritated I can’t escape Grant’s shadow no matter where I go.
“I collaborate with the Joy Springs Investigative Unit weekly, so I get an invite. I suppose I’m a double agent.”
He laughs, and I glance around our immediate area. “Where’s Emerson?”
She’s inside, socializing. I saw Natalia Welch in there with another officer.”
“So? Why did you send my brother to talk to me about her?”
With a guilty frown, Grant shoves his hands into his pants pockets. “I saw the way you looked at each other. I thought maybe there’s more than met the eye, so I thought Dalton was the best one to warn you. Dating Natalia has its pitfalls around here, and it may ding your reputation. You don’t need that when you’re just starting out.”
“No, Grant. What I don’t need is a warning. We’re not dating, but heaven forbid Dylan McGrath screws up and embarrasses Joy Springs and Sunnyville Police, especially the almighty Grant Malone. I’m not a kid anymore, detective. I never asked you to hold my hand or clean up my messes. You’re my cousin, not my damn keeper.”
Before Grant argues, the photographer corrals us for a group picture. As I irritably move, someone says, “Well, hey there, Rook.” Groaning to myself, Tristan grins as he joins the group. “I saw your date.” He gives me a facetious thumbs-up, and I refrain from flipping him the bird in front of witnesses.
When the photographer finishes the group picture, he takes pictures of couples near the stone fireplace. As I leave the group, Verna finds me. “Let’s get our picture taken together!”
“I don’t think—”
“Just do it, McGrath. Don’t be a rude date,” Taggart scolds, and I give her a look of disdain, not giving a fuck, off the clock.
Verna drags me over, telling the photographer she’d like a picture of us. The old man with a bushy mustache asks, “Is this your boyfriend, young lady?”
Verna answers, “Yes,” as I refute that, confusing the man, but he doesn’t ask for details of our fucked-upness. I reluctantly let Verna tow me to the fireplace and put her arms around my chest, hugging me. The photographer advises me not to hold my arms in the air, but I fucking don’t know where to put them. “Put an arm around your date.” Fucking shit, I’m done here.
I lightly rest my arm over her shoulders, trying to avoid touching her skin, which is more awkward than having my arms in the air. Thankfully, the photographer doesn’t tell me to move and takes the picture. I immediately step out of Verna’s hold, but she grabs me, giggling. “Silly. Wait up. You’re eager to get to the dining room. Are you that hungry?”
“Yep.” Nope.
Verna leans against me as we exit the crowd and says, “I can take care of that hunger for you.” What the fuck?
Pretending I didn’t hear that, I follow her into the banquet room and find they’ve posted a seating chart. What in the hell? I want to sit in the back in case I can get the hell out of here. Fat chance with squeaky Verna and her insistence we stay joined at the hip. Verna locates our seats on the chart near the fucking front, and I regret not choosing jail when Ricky offered.
Making our way to our seats, I spot Emerson, who immediately jumps up and meets us at our round table. Before I say hello, she says, “Dylan!” and throws her arms around me. Into my ear, she whispers, “Is this your date? She doesn’t seem to be your type.”
I whisper back, “She’s not, but I needed a plus one. Huge mistake.
”
“If looks could kill…” Emerson pulls away to give me a concerned, big-sisterly look, which I try to counter with a smile, but fail miserably.
“I wish someone would stab me.”
Loving a chance to sharpen her claws, Emerson plasters a bright smile for Verna and asks, “And you are?”
“Verna Roy. And you?”
Emerson sweetens her smile. “Just a close friend of Dylan’s.” She then stretches to rest her head on my shoulder as she giggles. “He’s special.”
Verna singes Emerson with a look. “Well, I’m the girlfriend, so…”
Squeezing my arm, Emerson sighs. “They’re all girlfriends, honey. It’s so hard to keep track of all the women vying to accompany Dylan every Saturday night.” What did Emerson just do? Holy fuck, I needed that.
Verna’s mouth pops open, shocked or whatever. “I’m no flavor of the month. I’m the real deal.” I practically choke on the lie.
Emerson lets go of me and crosses her arms. “Mm-hmm. We’ll see. Have fun while it lasts, sweetie.” With a wink, Emerson puts her hand on my cheek and says, “Dylan, call me. We’ll have fun like that time in Frisco. Just don’t forget the fire extinguisher this time.”
I swallow a laugh. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Okay, I’ll do that.”
Emerson then waves with her fingers at Verna. “Nice to meet you, Lorna.”
“It’s Verna.”
She shrugs with a dismissive glance. “Whatever.” Emerson is my new idol.
As Emerson returns to her table, Verna huffs, “Who in the hell was that?”
I pull out my chair as Verna glares at me with hands on her hips. “Just someone I know.”
“Well, obviously,” she grumbles as she plops down next to me. According to the seating chart, we’re stuck with the K-9 Unit and a couple of Narcotics officers. Awesome. K-9 will sniff all of our food before Narcotics digs through it.
Looking around the room, I see that Grant and Emerson are seated diagonally from us across the room. When she catches my eye, Emerson playfully waves at me again, and I laugh, making Grant lean over while she probably fills him in about what she did to Verna. I owe her a massive debt.
Rebel Rook: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World) Page 17
