Unchangeable (Undescribable Book 4)

by Shantel Tessier

  But if being a cop has taught me anything, it’s that life is unpredictable. And that is exactly what Katherine is. The woman makes me question my sanity on a daily basis. Sometimes she makes me want to keep her to myself; other times, she makes me want to jump off a cliff just to get away from her.

  Yet I still find myself turning into that little pussy I said I’d never be. Showing up on her front door holding flowers, only to have her throw them at me. Calling just to say hello, only for her to press ignore. Yeah, I’ve become a pussy all right. A whipped one at that. At first she was a challenge, but now I don’t like the fact that she is playing hard to get. But when someone comes after me, threatens my job, my life. It’s her that stands by my side. It’s her who has to pay for my sins. And it’s her who I’m threatened to lose. One thing that you need to know about me is that I'll fight for what I believe in. And I believe in her more than myself.

  What’s that saying? Boy meets girl and the rest is history…Well, those who fuck with what is mine, will become history

  UNPREDICTABLE

  CHAPTER ONE

  PARKER

  I turn off my headlights and lay my head back against the headrest as the brown haired woman bobs her head up and down on my hard cock. Her technique could use some work but who am I to judge? I’ve never sucked a cock before, and I sure as hell don’t know how many ‘suckers’ she has licked. All I know is that I have one and she is willing.

  “Sandy,” I breathe as I run my hand down her back and over her ass. God, I wish she could take her jeans off. My cop car isn’t the most convenient place to get some action, but I got called in tonight and I already had plans to meet up with her. So here we are, on the side of the road, making the best of it. And hey, I’m actually pretty comfortable. She’s the one stretched out over my center console with her knees propped up in the passenger seat. I realize I could get into deep shit for doing this while I’m on duty, but no one is gonna catch us way out in the middle of nowhere.

  “Hmmm?” She hums around my dick, and I sink my nails into the soft denim of her jeans that cover her ass. I just wanna spank the fuck out of it as she begs me for more.

  “2388 we have a 10-50 at I-55 and LaSalle Park.” The second the voice comes over the radio informing me of traffic incident, I sit straight up, shoving my cock all the way to the back of her throat and knocking her head into the steering wheel.

  “Parker,” she chokes out as she jumps up off me and grabs her head. I place my hand on her chest and shove her back into the passenger seat as I reach for the radio.

  “2388. 10-84 is 15 minutes.”

  I hang up the radio and start buttoning my pants. “What? You’re leaving?” she pouts.

  “Yes. I’m on duty,” I growl at her sounding annoyed.

  “What about us?” she questions in a child-like voice and pushes her bottom lip out.

  I lean over and grab her hair. I yank her to me and plant my lips on hers. I kiss her deeply, and she moans into my mouth as she rubs her hand over my still hard cock that I shoved into my pants. I pull away and she pants. “Meet me at my house in an hour.” She knows where I live. This isn’t the first time we’ve hooked up.

  “Give me your key,” she demands. And I shake my head. “Why not?”

  I have roommates. I originally moved in with Tate. Then Tate fell in love and his fiancée who now lives with us. She would have my head if I allowed a girl to have my key. I can already picture Tate calling me while Missy is in the background yelling at Sandy to get the fuck out. Then I’d be kicked out. And that is just not gonna happen.

  “Just meet me there in an hour,” I repeat, and she nods her head reluctantly.

  I give her one more kiss and then all but shove her out of my car. She’s parked right behind my cop car so I’m not worried about her having to find a ride. I make sure she gets into her car before I take off down the darkened road that I had her meet me at. It’s pretty late at night, or early morning, however, you wanna put it.

  Within seconds, I’m turning my sirens and lights on as I’m jumping on the highway. Papers scatter across my dash and my sunglasses slide from one end to the other as I take the curves sharply. Another five pass by quickly as I fly down the road. I look at my clock that reads almost six thirty in the morning. The sun still hasn’t come up, but it won’t be much longer. This will be my last call. Once I’m finished with this, I will be off duty. But the funny thing about a call is that you have no idea how long it will take.

  CHAPTER TWO

  KATHERINE

  I stand in my hooker heels and little slutty, denim shorts with my arms crossed over my chest, trying to cover up my hard nipples. It’s freezing in this room. I shouldn’t have dressed this way in the first place—not only do I look like I belong on Eleventh Street, but I also don’t even match. But clothes are the last thing on your mind when you have to rush the only man you’ve ever loved to the hospital.

  Releasing a heavy sigh, I lean forward and place my forehead on the cold glass. A chill runs down my back. I close my eyes and try to think happy thoughts. None comes to mind. Don’t get me wrong, my life isn’t a disaster by any means. I just can’t think of anything to give me hope at the moment. Hospitals will do that to you. They have a way of sucking the life out of you. Which is weird for me to say, considering I work at one. It’s different though when you’re at one because of a family member.

  I open my eyes and look out the now fogged window due to my breathing. The lights of St. Louis still glow as the sun starts to come up in the distance. I look down to the streets and watch all the people drive to work, preparing themselves for another busy day at the office. Their boring, repetitious lives.

  I never found myself to be normal. My father always told me that I was special. And as a daddy’s girl, I believed him. I still do. Don’t take that as me being conceited. I’m not! My definition of special has just changed from when I was younger.

  “Miss?”

  I turn around to see a nurse in dark red scrubs that I don’t know standing at the door to my father’s hospital room.

  I nod my head as I look over to my father. Lying there sleeping from the medicine he was given after his fall. It scared me to death. All I heard was a loud crash and then found him lying at the bottom of my stairs. I don’t even know what he was doing on the second floor anyways. He laid there lifeless in a puddle of blood and glass that broke from the pictures he pulled off the wall as he looked for something to grab onto for support.

  My eyes go back to hers and I catch her as she looks me up and down with a look of disgust on her face. Judging. For my lack of clothing. She probably thinks I’m his mistress or some over exaggerated bullshit. People really do have overactive imaginations these days.

  I clear my throat and straighten my shoulders. “Is there a reason why you’re in here?” Bitch, is probably her next thought, and she would be totally right. What can I say? I may be a daddy’s girl, but I’m very much my mother’s daughter. Total bitch!

  “I was just going to give you these.” She reaches out her hand, and I now realize that she holds something in it.

  I take them from her, and my eyes scan over the material. “A home?” I ask once they register.

  She nods. “I wanted for you to look over your options.”

  I throw them over onto the chair that holds the only thing I was able to grab as I stormed out of our house. My cell. Which is dead—piece of shit. “There is only one option,” I snap at her.

  She actually looks surprised by my words. As if I was just going to throw him into a home and forget about him until he died and collected his money. Dress like a hooker, people will think you’re a gold digging whore just waiting for an elderly man to give you his life earnings. What is the world coming to?

  “I understand you want to…”

  “No, you don’t,” I interrupt whatever bullshit she was about to come up with. “I have taken care of him for the last year. I’m not going to stop now.”

&n
bsp; “He needs twenty-four hour care,” she reminds me.

  “You can’t tell me anything that I don’t already know.”

  She’s quiet for a few seconds. “Can you be there twenty-four seven?”

  A simple question should be given a simple answer. But the answer is no. I work. That’s all I do, but it takes up most of my time.

  She gives me a warm smile at my silence, and I want to fucking punch her lights out. I’ve had to take anger management before. I really don’t have time for it again.

  I look back over at my father and walk over to him. I can feel her eyes staring at my exposed thighs, and I sit down on the chair next to his bed to obscure her view.

  “You don’t have to make a decision right now. He will be here for a while.” With that, she walks out and leave us alone.

  I grab his cold hand and take it in mine. “No worries, Daddy,” I whisper to him. “You’re not going anywhere.” And I mean that. I’ll do whatever I have to do. I’ll hire someone. Hell, I’ll move someone in to take care of him while I’m gone.

  My throat tightens and I feel the sting of my eyes but I push that feeling back.

  Be strong, Katherine. Keep your eyes open. You never know when the lights will go out.

  That’s the only thing I ever remember my mother saying to me. She spoke those exact words the day she walked out on my father and me. I was six. My father raised me, she was never really there anyway. And that’s what makes this even harder. I should be taking care of him now; I shouldn’t be giving up on him.

  I run my hand softly over his silver hair. My dad has changed a lot over the last two years. He went from being a man to being a toddler. I’ve had to bathe him, feed him, and dress him. The list never ends. I went into nursing because of him and now I feel like I’m just pawning him off on another.

  I lean down and give him a kiss on his cold cheek. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Daddy,” I say, and I feel a knot start to form in my throat, but I swallow it down. I don’t cry.

  ***

  Pulling up to my house, I grab the pamphlets and my dead cell phone. Once inside, I go into my kitchen and throw them onto the kitchen table.

  “So…”

  I jump and spin around throwing my back up against the fridge with my hand over my racing heart. “What the hell are you doing here?” I snap.

  Leaning up against the countertop in my kitchen stands my ex-boyfriend.

  “Why the hell are you here?” I ask narrowing my eyes on him. He looks like fucking shit. His longer blond hair is slicked back into a low ponytail. His white shirt looks dingy and his ripped jeans are hanging so low that if I were standing behind him I would probably be able to see his ass crack along with his boxers. What can I say? I know how to pick them.

  He reaches up and runs his fingers through his blond beard. “To get my truck.”

  I shake my head. “I already told you. You’re not taking it.” I might have bought that truck for him, but it isn’t leaving here. “Coming here won’t change my mind.”

  “Well, if you’d answer your fucking phone then you would know that I’ve been here for three hours, and I’m not leaving until you give it to me.” His voice rises as he speaks.

  “I was busy.”

  His chest rises and falls as he tries to calm his anger. He looks around and then his eyes are back on mine. “Where the hell have you been anyway?” he demands as his eyes look over all my exposed skin. They actually darken when they rest on my chest. He still hates the fact that I got them done. But he learned a simple lesson—never tell me I can’t do something. His eyes finish their descent down my stomach and then legs. He reaches down to adjust himself and I roll my eyes.

  “None of your business,” I respond turning away from him.

  “Where’s your father?”

  “He’s gone.” I throw over my shoulder.

  “He died?” His voice softened at his question, and I hate it. He doesn’t give a flying flip about my father or how I feel.

  “My father is also none of our business,” I say refusing to answer his question.

  Just as I go to step out of the kitchen, he speaks. “You put him in a home!”

  I spin around and see he has found the brochures on the kitchen table. He’s holding one in his hand as he skims over it.

  “Of course, you did,” he says before I can respond. “I’ve been telling you to do that for two years and the moment you break up with me, you get rid of him so you can be a little slut and whore around.”

  I feel a sharp pain in my mouth as I bite down on my tongue. The bastard has always known exactly what to say to piss me off. I roll my shoulders and try to relax. I’m tired. All I wanna do is get out of these clothes, get a few hours of sleep, and then get back up to the hospital to spend some time with my father. “I’m not discussing this with you,” I finally say as nicely as I can manage. “I’m going to bed. Show yourself out.” First thing, when I get up later, is to call and have the locks changed. I haven’t had the time to do it with all that has happened with my dad.

  I turn around, but before I can take a step, his hand lands on my shoulder and I’m yanked back. Wrong move! I’m in no mood for him right now. Without thought, I rear my hand back and punch the motherfucker in the face.

  CHAPTER THREE

  PARKER

  “10-105,” Deceased body. I hear an officer say into his radio as he stands to the right of me in the middle of the highway. I swallow thickly at what that means. I hear it so often, yet it still affects me. Still makes me sick to my stomach.

  Wreckage.

  Violence.

  Blood.

  Victims.

  All of these things equal total chaos. It would amaze you how much cruelty there is in this world. You may lie in your comfy bed at night with your loved one next to you as you see it on your TV and think oh my God, how does someone do that to another? But I live it. I see it every single day. And it never gets any easier. No matter what they tell you or try to prepare you for in training, a person does not acclimate to the horrors that I see when I’m on a shift.

  Being a police officer takes a certain type of person. And there are times that I feel like I may not be that person. I’m a grown-ass man and even I will admit that I have shed a tear or two. I’m not heartless by any means—although I know some women who may beg to differ with me on that. Don’t get me wrong, I can be a total dick.

  But as I stand here in the middle of a highway, sweating in my uniform even though it’s the early morning, I look at the traffic backed up for miles. People just trying to make it to their everyday boring jobs. I wonder how many take their life for granted. I wonder how many are living in a loveless marriage, or how many times they’ve been in love. That thought makes me think of my parents. I immediately push that thought away. This is not the time and place for my personal issues.

  I sigh heavily as my eyes drop to the carnage that lies at my feet—nothing but broken glass and shattered dreams of a little girl and my heart breaks.

  She was two.

  A two-year-old little girl who wore a pink Disney princess dress that was glittered in sparkles was killed only minutes ago. I’ll never forget that for as long as I live. She looked so peaceful yet destroyed at the same time. It made me sick. She’ll never have the chance to grow up. She’ll never have the chance to fall in love. She’ll never have the chance to be a mommy herself. All because her father didn’t place her in her car seat correctly.

  He survived—it’s usually the ones who aren’t responsible for the act that pay the price. He wasn’t drunk or under the influence of any drugs. He is a normal guy working two jobs trying to support his family. He fell asleep on the way to drop his daughter off at daycare so he could get to his morning job on time and hit a guardrail. Although he was not wearing his seatbelt, the airbags were still able to save his life. Their little girl, however, was thrown from the car and died on impact.

  Calls like this stay with you forever. No matter how much time
passes the memory will always remain as if it was just yesterday—the ones you couldn’t save.

  I breathe heavily as I run from my cop car, arriving at the traffic scene. An SUV sits upside down in the middle of the lanes and the family’s personal belongings scatter the highway. I see a little girl lying face down in a puddle of blood to my right and a man lying on his back as he screams out. Two guys try to hold him down while another officer tries to talk to him.

  “Sir,” the officer shouts trying to get his attention.

  “Oh, my God,” he cries. “Sarah,” he screams as he looks over at the little girl lying in the middle of the road. “Please.” He closes his eyes tightly. “Please God no.” His body shakes.

  I kneel down beside him as I look over his cut and bloodied face. He looks up at me, and he reaches up to grab my arm. His hand shakes and red tears run from his green eyes. “Please help her,” he sobs. “I didn’t mean to do it.” He shakes his head. “It was an accident.”

  I nod my head as I try to give him words of encouragement, but nothing comes out. I know she’s dead, and he knows she’s dead. I can’t save her. There’s nothing I can do to help him.

  The ambulance arrived then and took him to the hospital. We covered up the little girl until the coroner showed up.

  Now I continue to stand here with a heavy heart.

  “We need to wrap this up,” Bobby, an officer, says looking at what’s left of the family’s SUV. Red pieces of the door lie only inches from my shoes. Glass litters the road and the wadded up SUV lies upside down across two lanes. “Cars are backed up more than two miles.”