You had to wonder why some asshole always went and ruined your day.
Especially when I was in the middle of one that had sparked a hope in me unlike anything I’d felt in a long, long time. Izzy just . . . standing in front of me and making me feel like everything could turn out right. Helped a bit that she’d invited me over for her mama’s blueberry pie.
She might as well have been passing me an olive branch.
But that’s just the way life went, wasn’t it?
You had to take the good with the bad.
And when you were a cop, you spent your life taking on a whole lot of the bad.
Proof of that was I was more than halfway home, minding my own business, when a car came blazing out of a side street just as I was making it back into Charleston.
My attention whipped that way, watching as a late model BMW blew the stop sign coming out of a neighborhood, fishtailing as it hit the main road.
They gunned it going the opposite direction.
Doing about double the speed limit.
Switching on my lights and siren, I flipped a U in the road. Could feel my skin getting sticky, hit with the unsettled feeling I got whenever things weren’t quite right.
An intuition that had saved my ass more times than I could count.
I grabbed my radio. “Detective Chambers, lights and sirens, pursuing late model BMW. Requesting back up.” I rattled off the license plate and my location. I got confirmation, and I floored it, the big engine of my Suburban roaring.
The white car in front of me swerved in and out of the lane, flying by two cars, not giving a fuck that he might be putting someone in danger.
Nothing I hated more than that.
My eyes narrowed, and my heart thudded harder. Was this asshole trying to outrun me? With my siren going, the two cars pulled off to the side to let me by, and I got right up on the car’s tail.
Could tell he was thinking about it. Itching to push his car as fast as it would go.
Run.
I edged an inch closer, letting him know I’d be all too happy to chase him down.
Finally, he flipped on his signal, put on his brakes, and pulled off to the side of the road. I came up right behind him, adrenaline a thunder in my veins.
I’d been in this line of work long enough to smell the stench of trouble from a hundred miles away. And it was just emanating from this asshole.
Actually, four of them. Could see the car was filled, two in the front and two in the back.
Unease stirred, and I waited until the plates read clean, then stepped out of my truck into the overbearing heat. Sweat instantly slicked my flesh, and my guts twisted up in a sick sort of anticipation, at the ready for anything.
Was wearing my typical uniform—jeans and a tee and boots and my gun strapped to my side.
Never mattered if I was on duty or not. I was ready to go.
Could almost see the four kids sitting in the car gettin’ antsy over that shit, looking in the mirrors, squirrelling in their seats, anxiety coming from that white metal like it’d been painted with it.
If I didn’t already know I had a prick on my hands, he only sealed the deal when I got up to the side of the car and he still had his window rolled up. With the heel of my fist, I banged on it.
Reluctantly, he finally rolled it down, arrogance coming out of the inside as thick as the heatwaves sagging in the sky. My gaze swept the car, taking in the four guys that I pegged at around twenty. They weren’t dressed much different than any other guy I’d come across on the streets.
It was what was underneath those layers that got to me. Something sleazy oozing from their skin that cued me in that they were up to no good.
“Problem, officer?” The driver’s tone dripped with sarcasm, brow lifting like it was me with the issue rather than the other way around.
Had half an inclination to reach through the window and take him by the collar. Let him know exactly what the problem was. But I played by the books as best as I could, and this punk wasn’t even close to being worth my ass getting dragged into the sergeant’s office.
“Considering you were doing sixty in a thirty and blew through a stop sign, I’d say there is.”
He scoffed out a laugh. “Sixty? I think your radar must be off. Wasn’t doin’ more than . . . thirty. Max. You can ask my friends.” He almost laughed when he said it, glancing in the rear-view mirror at the two guys in the back, sketch written all over them, carload of twitchy motherfuckers with their knees bouncing a million miles a minute.
“Yeah, no chance were we going any faster than that,” one of the guys in the back spouted, head bobbing so fast I wasn’t sure how it didn’t snap off.
“That so?” I returned, wondering if they actually thought that was reason enough for me to let them go.
“That’s so.” It was nothing but a sneer from the driver.
“Not what my radar said.”
My head swiveled as I leaned closer, taking in the interior of the car, hunting for anything that might give me a reason to search it.
Gut telling me they were dirty.
Interior was clean, no bags or paraphernalia sitting out. Nothing that should raise any suspicion that this was anything more than a normal traffic stop.
“Where you coming from?” I asked, voice low and controlled, hinting at a growl.
“Pretty sure that’s none of your damned business.” This from the driver. I kinda wanted to pop him in the mouth.
A rough chuckle left me. “You been drinking? Doing drugs?”
“Do I look like I’ve been drinking?” Instantly, this kid was combative. Hated to say that I’d expected it, but I had, not surprised at all to find that feeling creeping up and taking hold.
“License and registration,” I grated low.
A disgruntled sigh left him. “That really necessary?”
“Wasn’t asking so I could find out the color of your eyes. Think you could do as you were asked, or do you need to step out of the car?”
Defiance blazed from his expression, but he finally reached across the console when he saw the cruiser marked with Police roll up behind my truck.
I kept my eyes focused as he opened the glovebox, watching for anything it might expose.
Nothing stuck out in there, either.
“Be right back. Don’t go anywhere, yeah?” I warned.
I went back to my SUV to do a search after he handed both over.
Zachary Keeton.
My computer screen populated with a slew of driving-related tickets, mostly speeding and two for reckless driving.
Shocker.
Only thing even remotely criminal was an arrest for misdemeanor theft.
No outstanding warrants.
Even though my gut was telling me these four were involved in something bigger, I was left with no option other than to write him a ticket. I moved back to his window and handed it to him.
“Drive safe.”
He snatched it out of my hand, a smirk taking over his face. “I’ll do my best.”
I stood there and watched him pull back onto the street, fighting the sick feeling in my gut. Shouting that I should do something more. That these guys were vile and corrupt. But sometimes I had to let things go. Accept I couldn’t fix everything. It just sucked when you knew something seedy was right under your nose.
* * *
“Where have you been my whole life, handsome?”
I grinned, happy to hear the familiar voice. I needed a distraction for the uncontrolled energy, my emotions in shambles. Too excited for my own damn good, and that old worry trying to steal itself a winning spot after it was supposed to be long dethroned.
I tossed my attention over to Mirena who stood at the head of the table where I was sitting in my regular booth at Monty’s.
It was the same question she asked me every single time I came in, which was more often than was probably prudent to admit.
“Lookin’ for you, gorgeous. What else would I be doing
here?” I said, giving her my same response as well.
Nothing sexual about it.
Hell, Ian had hit that up before he’d settled down with Grace, so I sure as hell wouldn’t have gone there even if I wanted to, anyway.
I didn’t. Never had.
She was just . . . cool and sweet and playful, so I always played right back.
Made our favorite bar feel a little bit more like home.
Of course, my little excursion tonight was sans Jace and Ian. Assholes had better places to be. Like actually at home. Couldn’t exactly fault them for that.
Didn’t mean that it didn’t bother me just a bit that I was sitting there alone. It was moments like these that made me wish that maybe I had more.
More than just living my life for the job. But I knew better than asking for more than that. I’d committed myself to making the world a better place after being a part of the problem for so long.
It was all I had to offer.
All I had to give.
My life was dangerous, and my mind was fucked up.
Soul bent.
Besides, I was the one who’d chosen to be a cop. Wasn’t fair to ask a woman to be okay with that, too, never knowing if I’d make it home at the end of the day.
On top of that? Only woman I’d wanted waiting for me was Izzy. And fuck, I wanted her. Wanted her in a way that just wasn’t rational. Just as bad as I had then.
Maybe more considering now I knew what it felt like to have to live without her.
So, there I sat, all spun up, craving something I knew full well I shouldn’t take, knowing I couldn’t risk getting involved with her again, and pretty much planning to take a bite out of her, anyway.
Mirena smiled one of her playful smiles. She’d been a waitress here for about as long as I’d been coming around.
She lifted a brow, gossip written into her expression. “Tell me all about what case you’re working on right now. You trackin’ down a murderer or a drug dealer or busting up some major crime family? I want all the gory details.”
A light chuckle rumbled out, and I scratched at the stubble coating my jaw as I sat back in the booth, slanting her a smile. “Now why would you want me to go and drag you into my mess?”
Something wry tipped up at the corner of her mouth. “Oh, I’m pretty sure just about any girl this side of the pacific would be happy for you to drag her into your mess.” She waved an indulgent hand behind her. “Look at all these ladies . . . every single one of them who isn’t here with someone has clocked you.”
I laughed and took a sip of my beer. “Hardly.”
“You just keep telling yourself that, big guy.” She rubbed my shoulder, the way she always did, nothing to it, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t feel the ripple of jealousy that suddenly shocked through the dense, hazy air.
Anger surging, scratching its way through the atmosphere.
Bitter unease clawed inside of me, and I glanced to the side of Mirena in time to catch Clarissa pushing through the thick crowd, hips swaying from side-to-side, long, dark hair flowing all around her.
Tension knotted my shoulders, and I blew out a heavy gush of air that was nothing but guilt and remorse.
Last thing I wanted to deal with tonight was Clarissa.
Mirena followed my gaze, almost wincing when she saw her striding our way. All the easiness she’d been wearing earlier vanished.
Suffice it to say Mirena wasn’t exactly Clarissa’s biggest fan.
“Just let me know if you need anything else. I’ll get out of your way.”
She backed away, and a lithe body dressed in black leather pants and a flimsy white blouse that exposed one shoulder slipped into the booth next to me.
Clarissa sent me one of her coy, sexy smiles, like she was expecting me to be happy to see her waltzing in like this.
All sexpot mouth and curvy hips.
“Clarissa,” I said, not having the first clue what I was supposed to say. Not after this week. Not after seeing Izzy twice.
Guilt climbed my throat. No. Not because I was doing Clarissa some wrong by going to Izzy’s tomorrow and, like a fool, praying it led to somewhere good.
It was sitting there wondering what Izzy would think if she saw her snuggled up to my side.
“Hi, baby,” she purred.
I cringed, hating when she called me that. More than ever tonight.
Not when it felt like everything I knew as my normal had been knocked to the right. Thrown off-balance.
Blood pounding with the need to get inside a tight, warm body. To feel hands on my skin. A mouth moving with mine.
To give a big middle finger to all the bullshit and questions and sum of my past, and go after the one thing in the world that had ever made me feel like I could be a better man. The person who had made me a better man, even when that better would never be good enough.
And it definitely wasn’t Clarissa that fit that bill.
But that was my fault, wasn’t it?
I’d used her just as badly as she’d used me. But I couldn’t seem to stop torturing myself by going to her again and again.
Nothing but a bad reminder of every mistake I’d made.
Like I felt this intrinsic need to keep one foot firmly planted in the past.
“Where have you been?” she asked, words a flirty pout. As flirty as her hand that was suddenly squeezing my upper thigh. “I’ve missed you.”
I shifted an inch away.
“I’ve been busy.”
She tittered out a laugh. Everything about her was seductive. But it was the kind of seduction you knew would strike you in the end.
The girl looked like a viper.
Her bite just as deadly.
“Tell me you’re not sittin’ here saying you’ve been too busy for me? That’s not very nice,” she cooed, like she actually thought she was cute.
I hesitated, warring, unrest growing stronger.
How the hell was I supposed to handle her?
Thing was, I had to. No chance was I going over to Izzy’s tomorrow when I had this hanging over my head.
Didn’t want to be a dick, but it’s not like what Clarissa and I had was hearts and flowers.
We were nothing but grudges and shame.
I blew out a sigh, scrubbed a hand over my face.
She laughed a bitter sound, her voice mocking. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
A frown pulled to my brow. “Didn’t say anything.”
She shook her head, and a smirk was curling at the corner of her mouth. “Don’t even pretend like you weren’t getting ready to say what you were getting ready to say. I know you better than anyone else.”
Bullshit.
But I didn’t argue with her. Figured she was due her anger.
“You and I both know this is going nowhere,” I told her, voice just loud enough so she could hear me over the din in the bar.
She squeezed my thigh tighter, face coming up close to mine. “So what you’re telling me is you want to take this somewhere?”
I reached under the table and pried her hand away. “No, Clarissa. This can’t happen anymore. Never should have happened in the first place.”
She was the worst mistake I’d ever made.
Her expression turned into something smug, hurt and defiance just showing underneath. “Should we count the number of times you’ve told me that before?”
She leaned in closer, her lips almost touching mine. “And you always, always come crawling back.”
“Not this time,” I grated. Disgust billowed, my regret thicker than the air in the dingy bar. Suffocating and dark.
She laughed a derisive sound. “You’re so adorable. No wonder all these fools think you’re so sweet and innocent. But I know better than that, don’t I?”
Anger surged through my veins.
“Stick to your own kind.” My father’s reproach rang in my ear like the imprint of a bad dream. Funny how I hated every fucking word that had come out of that bastard’s mout
h, and somehow, I’d taken that one thing as wisdom.
Seeing Izzy had me wondering if I’d had it all wrong. If maybe things had been different.
I angled down, getting in her face, making her rock back an inch. “I’m not fucking around, Clarissa. This ends now. Both of us deserve better than what the other has to offer.”
Her dark eyes danced. Fucking feeding from the turmoil.
She slid out of the booth, but she leaned over the table, a hand on my chest as she dipped down. Our noses brushed as she whispered, “No, Mack, you and I both deserve exactly what we have to offer . . . nothing.” She ran a fingertip down my cheek. “And you and I both know it’ll only take a little bit of time before your back begging for it. You might have the rest of this city fooled, but remember, I know who you are.”
“I was seventeen,” I told her through clenched teeth.
“And you think that changes anything? You’re still the same guy, and I’m still the same girl. Don’t ever forget that. You belong to me, and you always will.”
She straightened, all that sex rolling from her in waves, her hips swishing as she turned, casting me a look from over her shoulder. “See you around, Mack Boy.”
A disturbance rustled through my senses. Moaning from within. The reminder of who I’d been.
And I wondered if I had any chance of escaping him.
I let myself into the sweeping darkness of my small house. It was in an older neighborhood in Charleston, mostly families and retired couples. That same silence bounded back, and all the questions I’d been hearing earlier came at me tenfold after running into Clarissa.
Wasn’t like that had been a surprise.
It was our normal rendezvous.
Another fucking mistake.
I let the door drop closed behind me, and I blew out a heaving sigh as I walked into the main room that housed the living room and kitchen. The original walls that separated the two rooms had been knocked out to create a more modern vibe when I’d had this place remodeled.
What I’d wanted it to be, I didn’t know.
A fucking home? Only thing it’d turned out to be was a place to sleep.
I tossed my keys to the island, trying to pull myself out of the funk I was getting sucked into, and went over to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. I twisted the cap and flicked it into the garbage, and I drew in a long breath as I leaned back on the counter.
Pieces of Us: A Confessions of the Heart Stand-Alone Novel Page 8
