“And what?”
“He still had to grease the pipelines, so to speak. He needed to rebuild. With your help.”
“I only visited him three times after my mom died when I was seventeen. I didn’t help him with anything.”
“But you did. His friends.”
Tristan watches me as my world crashes. “No. No. No. Oh, my God.”
“You stopped visiting him, but that doesn’t mean he cut the strings. You probably didn’t meet guys randomly as you thought.”
I clench my fists as my voice echoes in his room. “Shut the fuck up!”
“Tristan sighs, waving the stack of papers. “Taggart found out the truth of what your father was doing. To avoid a trial, your dad pleaded no contest to a judge. I think that was so you wouldn’t find out he was using you to satisfy his business partners and friends. Now he’s away for good.”
“My dad wouldn’t do that to me.”
“God, you’re naïve. Your dad was a criminal masquerading as a police officer, as some do.”
“Lynn wouldn’t have kept this from me.”
“But she did, Natalia, and she’s not the only one.”
My teary eyes widen. “No. Don’t say it.”
“And the police chief who signed off on Taggart taking down your father?” As my tears obscure Tristan, he says, “Malone. Rook is shit-deep in this.”
I cry tears that I swore to not cry in front of Tristan. Tossing the stack down, he walks closer. “The truth fucking hurts, but I’ve been the only one to give it to you. So, I don’t know who you think you’re in love with. What else is he lying about?” With my hands over my mouth and nose, I try to muffle my sobs. Tristan says, “I guess this is where I tell Taggart the truth about Rook fucking around with you. She’ll take your side.”
I drop my hands. “No.”
“You’re surely not sticking with him. When will you see him for the dirtbag he is?”
“You do it, and I’ll cut your fucking throat.”
“Oh, cool. How about we’ll start with a hand job, then?” He nods toward my jeans. “Take off your underwear. It’ll be like Rook is here, watching.”
“That’s sickening. You’re an asshole.”
His hand flies to his chest as he laughs. “I’m the asshole? You’re fucking a guy who knows more about your past than you. I hope he still visits you during his lunch hour at Walmart. I’d say mall cop, but he’d probably fuck that up too.”
I cry harder, and Tristan puts his hands on my shoulders. “You don’t have to protect him anymore, Natalia. If they fire him, so what? He deserves it.”
“I haven’t talked to him. He couldn’t have…”
“He did. Rook needs to learn the hard lesson of the bitter truth. He’ll find another job to fuck up, but he’s used to the unemployment line. Deep down, he’s a loser. Maybe his family’s reputation won’t take too much of a hit, but that’s not our problem.”
Stung, I still say, “Losing this job will ruin him. He’s worked so hard.”
“Who in the fuck doesn’t? He’s no different from you or me.” He drops his head, his face in mine. “You don’t have to tell Taggart anything. I’ll do it out of the kindness of my heart.” His smirk infuriates me, but I have so much more to process.
“No. I don’t want her to know anything.”
“You stole the words right out of your precious Lynn’s mouth.” Tristan squeezes my shoulders, and I don’t have the energy to shake him loose.
My voice is unsteady. “What was in it for Dylan?” I ask aloud, not expecting an answer.
Tristan grits his teeth. “Just another Malone doing whatever the hell they want.”
“Why me?”
“You probably smiled at him, and he wanted to piss Taggart off.” I drop my blurry eyes to his chest. “The deal is still up for grabs.” He kisses my cheek and whispers, “You going to let me do my job and tell the truth, or will you ride my dick to protect that prick? What’ll it be, Welch? Totally your call.”
I glare at Tristan, and as he straightens, I see he’s taller than Dylan. Why am I fucking surprised that the people I loved aren’t who I thought they were? Does Dylan see me as a joke or the cautionary tale of an ex-cop who abused his position? I thought Dylan loved me. Though, I’m not an authority on the subject.
When I send my steely, wet eyes to Tristan’s bed, I don’t have to see his grin to hear it screaming in my face. I return my glare to him, and his merriment dims as I say, “This may be your deal, but we fuck on my terms. I need to take care of something first.”
Tristan grabs my hand and places it on his dick through his sweats. “Fuck, right, you do. Where do we start first, gorgeous?”
I must stay strong, but on the inside, I’m destroyed. I gave my heart to a man—a boy—who only used me for a fuck and a joke. He taunted me with love, and I took the damn bait.
A part of him is with me, but I’m more alone than ever.
Chapter 26
Parked in front of the small convenience store on Bixby, I listlessly wait for Taggart while checking my phone. I’m not supposed to carry it with me but risked it tonight. All I can think about is my traumatized girlfriend. I couldn’t even watch the radar for speeders. Not that Taggart was into it, either. Something’s off with her, which is probably why she harassed Talia earlier. She didn’t even complain when I was thirteen minutes late.
No messages from Talia. I need to check on her, even if I can’t say much in front of Taggart.
When Taggart returns to the cruiser, she throws a bottle of something that bounces off my leg and knocks me in the balls, still sensitive from my enthusiasm with Talia. I groan, but if Taggart notices, she says nothing. I knew she’d castrate me at some point tonight. Picking up the Arizona tea, I ask, “What’s this?”
“It’s called a beverage. You drink it, and it provides sustenance preventing dehydration.”
“Yeah. Got it. Thanks.”
Taggart picks up the folder she’s clutched all night, opening it to read and then shutting it in a huff repeatedly. Opening my tea, I finally ask, “What’s that? A case?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be recording a report?” she mutters toward the papers. Taggart continues reading in the light from the convenience store. Rolling my eyes, I look out my door window. I’d rather be in my bed with Talia, holding her if she’d let me.
Taggart sighs over the sound of her slamming the folder shut for the hundredth time. As I watch a paper cup rolling around in the breeze in the parking lot, she asks, “Why were you at the hotel?”
Watching the cup, I search for a neutral answer. “If I hadn’t been, Ruiz would’ve…done horrible things to her.”
“But why were you there?”
I frantically think of something to say that won’t implicate either of us. “I’ve kept an eye on Natalia ever since Ruiz showed up at Dinah’s. I was in the area and saw her car in the hotel lot, so I stopped to say hello.” Her suspicious glare pierces me, and I shrug. “I see her almost every day at lunch. She’s nice. I guess we’re friends. Just doing my job, off the clock.”
I look away from Taggart to watch people on the sidewalk in front of us like creepers. Still, she glues her eyes to my face, so I veer to the side window. “Well, your shooting Ruiz has opened up a buried can of worms.”
My eyebrows tug together before I turn to Taggart, who is rolling the edge of the folder. “Okay? What was I supposed to do? Let him kill us both?” Picturing him shooting Talia, I lick my lips and take a drink before I say shit Taggart doesn’t need to hear.
“No.”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then, what’s the problem?”
“Before forensics broke into the phone, a detective tried Ruiz’s DOB for the passcode, and it worked. Stupid for an ex-cop to do. He’d been arrested twice for domestic assault involving an ex-girlfriend before Natalia. That’s what cost him his badge. So not the brightest bulb.”
&nbs
p; I clear my throat, glancing at the dash clock. Though he’s gone, talking about Ruiz puts me on edge, and I need to check on Talia. “Did they find anything?”
“Porn, old pictures of Natalia and other girlfriends, memos, but some of his contacts stood out more.”
“Like?” I ask, impatient. She’s usually more efficient than this.
“California State Prison, Sacramento.”
“Why?” I grip the glass bottle tighter, afraid of where this is heading. Talia’s father is there.
Taggart closes her eyes, but they pop open, and she again curls the folder beneath her fingers. “I’m not here to blab about Natalia’s past, but most of it is public record. I just…”
Glaring at Taggart, my knuckles scream as I nearly snap the glass. “What?” Taggart glances at me with surprise from my tone. “She’s my friend. I care.”
“You aren’t to speak of this to anyone. Do you understand me? If I can prevent Natalia hearing about her father, that’s what I’ll do.” Exasperated, I nod and she continues. “Last month, I received an anonymous tip that her father was conducting illegal business from behind bars, and it involved Natalia.”
“And?”
“As I had told you before, her father was my first recruit. He was an excellent student but he was cocky.” Taggart waits a beat for me to argue, but I want her to keep talking. “After training, he delved into drug dealing and prostitution. I was the one who arrested him. With Ruiz’s death, fresh police and journalist investigations unearthed them.”
“What are you saying?” Worse-case scenarios fill my mind, and I could strangle Taggart.
“Perry used Natalia to secure deals with his associates.”
I yell, “He pimped her out?”
Taggart frowns but doesn’t scold me. “She knew nothing and thought she was helping her father. There was no exchange of goods or money if the date was nonsexual. These men knew Natalia was unaware. The men were at least a decade older and found it to be a game to seduce her.”
“How old was she?”
“Her first date was at seventeen, but it appears Perry received his first profit a week after she turned eighteen.”
On the inside, rage tears through me. “How long did this go on?”
Taggart’s eyes shine in the fluorescent glow. “Until you and Officer Hayes shot Ruiz.”
“What the fuck?”
Taggart ignores that and swiftly blinks her eyes. “Natalia doesn’t know her father was behind her meeting Omar Ruiz. I imagine the deal would have ended had they gotten married.” Taggart looks straight ahead to the convenience store. “I don’t have children. I love that girl like my own. I can’t protect her and hide the police reports, newspaper articles, or details of his hearing from her anymore.”
Moving my tea to the console, my hand is numb, and I nearly drop the glass onto the rubber floorboard. I’m speechless, sick, and furious. Biting my lip, I prepare to come clean. Taggart needs to know that I love Talia too. She’s become more important than this job or Taggart’s opinion of me.
The radio interrupts, with dispatch advising us there’s a disabled vehicle on the shoulder of Olympic, near the entrance to I-80. They give no license plate number.
Taggart reaches next to my leg for the receiver to advise them we’re on our way. Irritated as fuck that we have to deal with a likely drunk sleeping in their car instead of checking on Talia, I throw the unit into reverse and exit the lot, distracted and pissed off.
Tearing down the four-lane section of Olympic, I zip in and out of the sparse traffic. I want to get this over with. Seeing the white car ahead, I flip on the overhead low-level warning lights and the front and rear flashing lights to announce my presence, but not my damn feelings about it.
As I pull onto the shoulder, Taggart and I both gasp. I know that plate well since I’ve used it to look up information. Taggart throws the folder onto the floor and unbuckles her seatbelt. “Natalia.”
Turning on the takedown lights, turning off the forward-facing lights, and adjusting the others flashing, I see Talia in the driver’s seat, but she can’t see me with the blinding light. Before Taggart exits, I say, “Hang on. Let me see what’s wrong. If you jump in her face, you may upset her.”
“You have one minute, McGrath.”
Stepping onto the gritty shoulder, as I slam the door, I mutter, “Fuck you.”
I leave my body camera off but know the in-car camera is recording. Walking up to the driver's door, I lightly knock on the window with my index knuckle. However, when Talia sees it’s me, she shakes her head and hides her face in her hands. Shit. I knew she shouldn’t have gone to work.
Ignoring the bright light and Taggart’s presence, I say, “Roll down your window, Talia.” She raises her head from her hands but doesn’t look at me. “It’s me. Come on. It’s okay.”
She reaches for the door and flings it open, catching me off guard and almost throwing me into traffic. In the light, I see her red eyes and tear-stained face. There’s no way they’d let her work in this condition.
Talia bites, “Well, if it isn’t Joy Springs’ star recruit. Are you here to pretend you care about me? To kiss me and joke about it in a briefing? To brag to your legendary family that you fucked Art Perry’s daughter for a laugh?” Her hand goes to my badge on my chest, and she tugs it. “You think this piece of metal gives you the right to treat me like shit?” Then she shoves against my chest. Dazed, I stumble backward, dumbstruck. “Slap the cuffs on me for assaulting a police officer, asshole!”
I hear Taggart’s door close, and I hiss, “What’s wrong with you? Have you been drinking?”
I study her angry face, searching for signs of the woman I love, and she seethes, “Not a drop. Maybe you should shoot me since you missed last time.”
I spout, “Talia! What the hell?”
Taggart rounds the back of the car. “What’s going on here?”
Talia leaves me and marches over to Taggart, yelling, “You lied to me!”
Taggart turns a mottled red. “Honey, let me explain.”
“There’s nothing you can say now!” Walking over to Talia, I notice her jeans. She can’t wear those to work. “You knew what he was doing to me!”
“I only found out recently and reported him. Your dad confessed. A superior court judge for the State of California put him away for good last month. I was planning to tell you soon, but I wasn’t sure—”
“I’m the town fool!”
“No!” Taggart reaches for Talia, but she jumps back, landing against me. Talia spins and pushes me a second time, but I’m prepared for it this time. I grab her wrist, not applying force as I would with a combative offender.
“Calm down, Natalia,” I warn, trying to sound in control, but I’m quickly losing and driving on fumes.
As cars buzz past us, kicking up dirt, Taggart asks, “Who told you? Did a reporter contact you?”
Talia whips around with me, still holding onto her. “Reporter? No! I heard it from a fucking police officer, and it was neither one of you!”
Yanking on Talia’s wrist, I tug her to face me. “Who? Prescott?” I’ll kill him.
She grits her teeth, and she’s a beautiful storm. “Does it matter?”
“Well, yeah.”
As I gape at Talia, searching for words, Taggart says, “Most of the information has just come to light.”
“Oh. So, now you want to tell me everything.”
Taggart puts her hand on Talia’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
Talia jerks from my grip and Taggart’s hand. “You had years to tell me about arresting my dad and what kind of person he was. But no, you’re all shitty and protect your own, no matter what.”
“Natalia, I didn’t know he ever involved you back then! It’s reprehensible what he did to you!”
“And it’s an abomination what you did to me, treating me as if I was a casual bystander to my own life.” Talia turns to me, and her angry eyes water. “You snowed and humiliated me. Exce
llent work, officer. I hope you enjoyed yourself.”
Though I’m disoriented, I grab her arm, pulling her back to me. “We’re not done.”
“Why? You want to throw me down and show Sunnyville and Joy Springs a new Malone is in charge? Maybe you’ll bide your time and wait until you’re the chief, like your uncle!” Talia twists from my limp grasp, and she pulls her jacket closed around her. As if Taggart isn’t here, Talia says, “I thought we were…friends.”
I firmly state, “We are. I promise you.” Talia looks away from me, blinking her wet eyes.
Now beside me, Taggart says, “We’ll take you home. It looks like you’re in no shape to drive.”
“I’m great. I just received a massive wake-up call, and I can’t hit the snooze on my life anymore. Am I free to go? I have to be somewhere.”
“Where are you going?” I ask as Taggart and I follow Talia to her car.
Talia opens her driver’s side door and shrugs. “Maybe I’ll get coffee. Maybe I’ll get a tattoo. Maybe I’ll commit a felony. Maybe I’ll run off and marry the next guy I meet who isn’t a cop.” She gets into her car and guns it back onto the road.
Simultaneously, Taggart and I stomp back to the cruiser. As I tear from the shoulder of the road and seethe, Taggart releases a shaky breath and orders, “Go to the station.” She then calls two different people before we reach the lights of downtown.
When I pull into the station’s lot, she grabs her folders. “Drop me at the lobby. I need to deal with this from home. Sit on Priority Avenue as a speed trap. Then, finish your reports.”
“What?”
“Do it, officer.”
Slamming the door, Taggart marches into the station, either on a mission or to bust someone else’s balls. Heading back to the road, I hang a left, away from Priority Avenue. When I’m far enough away from the station, I flip on every motherfucking light and siren, going code three through traffic, blowing through intersections, and weaving in and out of stopped cars. It’s enormously wrong, and they can fire me, at the very least, but as Talia said earlier, I don’t care.
Rebel Rook: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World) Page 27
