by A. E. Via
“Where the fuck is she going? Don’t tell me this is going down right now.” Michaels groaned.
“Looks that way.” Judge mumbled.
They continued to follow through them through the city. The girlfriend merged onto the interstate and headed took the signs pointing to Downtown Miami. Michaels was quiet next to him, his eyes focused on the red car. Judge knew to the follow the Navigator, there was no way he’d let the girlfriend out of their sights.
She merged off an exit and turned immediately into a seedy hotel right off the ramp. The Black Navigator rode past but Judge turned in and parked on the other side of the office out of sight. Michaels bounded out the car and Judge swore. They got to the side of the building and peeked around the corner. The girlfriend went inside the office without the luggage. When Michaels went to follow Judge grabbed his arm. “We wait.” He ordered.
He was surprised that Michaels didn’t swell up at him. Instead he nodded and waited next to Judge. It was a revelation how much that pleased him.
The girlfriend came out with some paperwork and walked over to a set of rooms that were on the far end, closet to a drained, mildewed pool. They stood on the side and watched, both of them checking for the Navigator too. He hadn’t disappeared that was for sure. He might have went in the next entrance and waited.
While it looked clear, Judge tapped Michaels’ shoulder. “Get out that shiny badge now. We’ll need it.”
Judge walked away and Michaels was on his heels. They hurried inside straight up to the empty front desk. There was an old rack of Miami tour pamphlets to their left and a two sitting chairs in front of scarred up wooden table. There were several clipboards with registration forms clipped to it. Judge hit the bell. A young man – could be in his late twenties - came to the front in an over-stretched gray tank top and board shorts. His sun burnt skin and frizzy hair made him look like he was going to go surfing as soon as he clocked out.
“Can I help you?” He said uneasily, looking up into Judge’s stern face. Judge didn’t have his bounty hunters shield on so Michaels stepped up and flashed his badge like on a typical episode of Law and Order.
“We need to know about the woman that was just in here.” Judge demanded, resting both huge hands on the counter.
“The hot redhead.” The boy smiled.
“Yes.” Judge barked and the boy nervously flung his hand over his heart. “Let me see her registration form.”
“Umm.” The boy looked confused. “Where’s your badge?” He pointed at Judge.
Judge leaned over and grabbed the boy by the shoulders and yanked him so hard that his entire upper body was half way across the counter. Judge snarled in his face. “You’re wasting my goddamn time.”
Michaels stepped in and tsked at Judge. He clamped his hand on Judge’s forearm urging him to put the severally frightened guy down. His eyes still on the boy, his dark glare, burning a hole in his retina, he jerked and released the kid making him hit the counter and fall back behind the counter.
Michaels waited for the boy to stand back up on shaky knees. “Believe it or not, he’s the one of us without an anger management problem. Now.” Michaels slammed his badge and gun down on the counter, giving the kid a pointed look. “Let me see her registration form and while I look over it, you tell my partner every fuckin’ word she said to you. Got it.”
The guy looked back and forth between them before he grimly nodded his head.
Michaels took a picture of the registration form and immediately forwarded it to the IT detective’s in their department. After he looked over a few things himself he went back and joined in on the conversation.
“…no. I’m sure. She asked to leave one key here with me, said her husband would be picking it up on Friday. She even paid me a few bucks to call her if there was any suspicious activity.”
“Suspicious activity?” Judge frowned.
The guy shrugged. “I know right. She didn’t say what kind. Just said to call her.”
Judge’s phone rang. He thought to ignore it but when he pulled it out he saw it was God. He pushed the speaker phone.
“Talk.” Judge said as a greeting.
“We’re tracing her number from the registration card. I should have a tracking on it soon.”
“Thanks.” Judge grunted and ended the call. He didn’t want the counter attendant to get off track. “So was there anything else?”
Michaels was beside him, looking like the sexy detective he was, in his dark denim jeans and starch white t-shirt, his black riding boots weren’t laced up and it gave him a rugged renegade appeal. Judge needed to focus. “Is she staying here tonight?” Michaels added.
“No. She paid for Friday and Saturday only.”
Judge nodded. This was it. Switch was coming on Friday or Saturday. They would need to relocate to this hotel. Michaels warned the attendant not to mention their conversation to anyway or else he’d arrest him for obstruction of justice. Judge found that hot as hell too.
The kid’s eyes widened. “No. No, s-sir. Absolutely not. I won’t say anything.” The guy enthusiastically reached under the counter and pulled out another plastic keycard and slipped and tapped a few keys on his very outdated computer before handing it over to Judge. “Here ya go. This is a key to their room.” Judge quirked one eyebrow in surprise. Damn Michaels’ badge was turning out to be extremely useful.
“Thanks.” Judge said and pocketed the card. “I also need to see a diagram of the hotel and the room.”
“Sure. I’ll be right back.” The guy turned and went in the back leaving him and Michaels alone.
“Haven’t seen the Navigator yet.” Michaels said standing next to the window.
“Fine. They’re probably parked on the other side.” Judge said standing directly behind Michaels. He didn’t have to stand that close and there were other windows but he was drawn to Michaels flame like a moth.
“I’m starving.” Michaels said out of the blue.
“Me too.”
“We’ll get something on the way back I guess.”
“Ugh. As long as it’s not Chinese.”
Michaels chuckled. It was light and husky, sounding sexy and virile. Judge propped one hand up on the wall next to Michaels’ head. He didn’t try to hide it when he leaned in and inhaled taken in the smell of their sex that still clung to Michaels’ skin. He could see Michaels mouth twitching in amusement.
“Nope doesn’t have to be Chinese.”
“I’m sick of fast food.” Judge said absently.
“I can cook something. There’s a kitchen in our room.” Michaels said turning slightly, his mouth dangerously close to his.
Judge was stunned. “You cook?”
“Yes. I dabble a little.” Michaels grinned slyly.
“Mmmmm.” Judge groaned, leaning in closer. “I’ll do anything not to have to eat takeout.”
“Anything?” Michaels emphasized.
“Yes.” Judge whispered against Michaels’ ear.
Michaels turned boldly, standing right on top of him. “I want a kiss.”
“W-what?” Judge stammered.
“You heard me just fine. I said I want a kiss. I’ll cook you dinner, maybe even breakfast. But I want something from you. I want to kiss you.” Michaels winked. “You don’t even have to kiss me back.”
Judge rolled this over in his mind. Something sounded off about this deal but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was through his euphoric delirium. The thought of Michaels’ mouth on him. Holy hell. Could he kiss those stunningly-soft looking lips and not lose his mind… or worse… his heart? Before he could think better of it his voice was shaky when he replied with a simple, “okay.”
“Okay?” Michaels’ smile was radiant and slightly devious.
“Now?” Judge asked, his heart beating wildly at the idea. His ego swelling that Michaels would make a deal like that with him. Was kissing him really that important to the hot detective?
“Not now.” Michaels ducked under Judge’s bi
g arm. “Later.”
“Here.” The young attendant said coming back behind the counter. He held out a small pamphlet and a couple sheets of paper. “This is a diagram of the room the girl requested and here’s a map of the hotel.”
Judge took it and scanned it over before tucking it in the back pocket of his jeans. He turned back to Michaels and nodded his head at the door. Before they left Michaels reached in his back pocket and pulled out a worn brown leather wallet approaching the counter. “You call me if you think I need to know something.” The kid took the card and stuffed it down in his baggy short’s pocket.
Judge was in front of Michaels when he opened the heavy wooden door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Judge’s heart dropped into his stomach and he barely had time to register Bookem barking like crazy in his truck or a chance to open his mouth for Michaels to “GET DOWN!” before the bullets started to fly.
Judge dove onto the ground, praying that Michaels had too. Thoughts of Brent flashed through his mind as bullets pinged and shattered glass over his head, the shots tearing up the windows of the hotel office. He covered his head with one arm and reached for his firearm with the other. But he heard Michaels 9mm firing back first. Tires skidded and squealed on asphalt. Judge uncovered his head and looked up in time to see Michaels on his feet, running out into the parking lot, stopping to take aim at the quickly retreating SUV. Judge’s breathing was out of control and for the first time in a long time he realized he was scared. Frightened… again.
In a flash, he was on his feet, running towards Michaels. But the hotshot cop had fired three perfect shots, strategically hitting both rear tires and taking out the back window. A sniper. The truck swerved in the street and hit the guard rail hard.
Judge watched as five guys jumped out the disabled vehicle and headed in their direction. “Fuck.” Judge bit out.
Michaels stood his ground, eyeing the men like he was about to have fun taking them all on. The wild detective reached in his back pocket and with the other hand simultaneously pressed the button on the side of the hand grip releasing the clip out of his nine like a he was Will Smith in the movie Bad Boys and efficiently replaced it with a full one, cocking the chamber. Crazy bastard. “Come on!” Judge shouted. They didn’t need to take on five thugs with automatics in the middle of Downtown Miami. Innocents could get caught in the crossfire.
Judge ran in the opposite direction of his truck. It was on the other side and would’ve left them open to more gunfire. Thank god he heard Michaels’ footsteps behind him. They tore up the hotel parking lot, running full speed towards the back. Judge remembered seeing a break in the fence that would put them on a path that ran right alongside the interstate, hopefully it would deter them from following and creating a massive scene. Shots pinged off the concrete barrier separating the road from the sidewalk and ricocheted off the fences. Judge ducked and cursed. He lifted his own handgun and fired in the direction the bullets had come. When he got to the fence he waited and let Michaels go through first. He’d rather he get shot in the back than him. Michaels was quick and light on his feet. He got through the break in the fence with no problem and was covering Judge with return fire while he got his big body through the opening.
They didn’t hear anything else as they ran along the interstate. He wasn’t far behind Michaels and saw him pull his cell phone from his pocket. Oh no. “Don’t call 911!” he yelled. But his voice was drowned out by the traffic noise. Shit.
Michaels cut to the left and ran towards a bridge that crossed over a small river. It was actually pretty smart thinking. The thugs wouldn’t think they’d leave the safety of the freeway. He chanced a glance behind him but he didn’t see anyone. But it didn’t mean they weren’t there. He tried to labor his breathing as he paced to keep up. Michaels ran across a dark street and looked down where the road dropped down to a bank. Michaels’ sharp blue eyes scanned all over, his phone still to his ear, his mouth moving fast. Judge watched him drop down into the shallow bank and he followed without question. It’d be impossible to see them down there or even think they came this way.
Michaels led them to a small opening under the bridge and stood in between two large stone posts that held the bridge’s support. Judge came and squeezed in behind him, the small gap in the posts barely giving them enough room. Judge stood behind Michaels, his chest right up against his back. There was no other way they could fit. Michael still had his phone to his ear and his gun up and ready to fire as he took quick glances from around the pillar.
This was brilliant. If the thugs did see them double back and come down the bank there’s no way they could get to them without Michaels taking out each one as they approached. With them behind the large concrete columns it would be impossible to fire and hit them. He almost wanted to lean in and kiss the man’s sweaty neck for thinking fast.
Judge was still trying to catch his breath and it appeared that Michaels wasn’t even winded as he talked calmly into his phone. “The SUV is disabled just off of forty-one…. Unhuh’… no we fuckin’ ran and they chased us… how am I supposed to know? I couldn’t recognize any of them, Syn I was too busy trying not to get my ass shot off…. okay… okay. No were good. We’re under the Brickell Bridge I think… alright… alright.” Michaels powered off his phone and tucked it back into his pants before he quickly peeked again. “Syn said to sit tight.”
“I don’t see anything.” Judge confirmed. “They didn’t see us come this way.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Judge leaned his forehead against Michaels’ shoulder. Thank god Michaels’ crazy ass was okay. But of course he was, he was one hundred percent badass.
“Are you okay?” Michaels turned his head, looking Judge up and down.
“Yep. I’m good.” Judge huffed.
“Bookem!” Michaels’ eyes widened.
“He’s okay. He knows what to do.”
“Which is?”
“Stay down and shut up. If I need him, I’ll open the back gate and he’ll come out.”
“Are you sure?” Michaels genuinely looked worried so Judge didn’t take offense.
“I’m positive. This is not our first time out in the field, Michaels. I’m often shot at, fought, maced, whatever. Bookem stays put until I call for him and he knows not to draw attention. He’s been doing this since he was a pup, Michaels.”
Michaels released a slow exhale and leaned back into him. Judge put one hand on Michaels’ hip, letting him know that was okay. “He’s not a pup anymore, Judge.”
“I know.” Judge whispered.
They were silent for a while as they listened to the traffic go across the bridge. It was darker under there and he was glad for the cover. He finally asked, “what did you call in?”
“I just let Syn know we were on the run and if they could get anything to hold Riggs on, now would be the time. I’m pretty sure those assholes had a shitload of unregistered weapons on them. If God could discretely send a few units over to catch’em’, that should get them out of our way.”
So damn smart. There’s no way he’d meet the same fate as Brett. Maybe Pop was right.
Chapter Twenty-four
Michaels brushed dirt off his pants, filthy from sliding down that bank. He rode in the back of the squad car God had sent over for them after his contact had made sure the streets were clear.
“Is the hotel clerk alright? He was a young hippie-type guy.” Judge asked from beside him. Michaels had thought about the clerk too but he was too terrified to ask.
“He’s fine. He gave a statement and was sent home.” The officer asked.
Judge and Michaels weren’t asked any questions, the officer pulled next to Judge’s truck and let them out. The hotel office’s windows were already boarded up but it didn’t look like much else damage was done. None of the rooms had been hit with stray bullets thank goodness, so the hotel was still operational, although the parking lot was exceptionally empty right now.
Michaels hurried to th
e rear door of Judge’s truck, throwing it open. Bookem’s head popped up and he bounded out of the truck. It was crazy but the dog appeared almost relieved. Like he knew his master could’ve been killed. Michaels kneeled down and rubbed the fretful dog around his scruff. “It’s alright boy, we’re safe” Michaels murmured quietly, patting the dog soothingly. “Good boy, good boy.” When Michaels stood up Judge was watching him like he’d never seen him before. Michaels frowned at him, not sure what was happening. “What’s wrong?”
Judge shook his head slightly and cleared his throat a couple times before he was able to speak. “Umm. Nothing. Come on, lets get out of here.” Judge surveyed his truck, checking for any bullet holes or damage.
Michaels let Bookem go and he immediately ran around to the driver’s side and nudged at Judge’s thigh, needing comfort from him more than anything. Judge encouraged Bookem back into the truck and drove off.
It was dark but the city was alive. There was traffic on the interstate so Judge got off and took the back streets. Recognition settled in Michaels’ chest at what they’d just went through. What if Judge had been hurt? The idea made an unfamiliar pain blossom in his stomach. He noticed how Judge had tried to shield him when they were running. What did that mean? Did he feel Michaels couldn’t protect himself? Was he just as nervous of him being hurt as Michaels was of Judge. He didn’t want to go down this line of thinking.
“Do you think the plan is totally fucked now?” Michaels asked instead.
Judge didn’t answer right away, he reached into the center console and dug another sweet cane out of plastic bag and stuck in the left side of his mouth. Michaels took the opportunity to simply stare at him while he waited. Judge’s hair was getting longer, the dark strands angled straight back resting on his neck. The thick black and premature gray strands looked perfect with Judge’s rugged look. There was a few strands of gray in his beard too and Michaels found it to be one of the sexiest looks he’d seen. Judge was a mature man. His eyes, his look, his wisdom, his entire demeanor told his age, which meant experience in Michaels’ book. Which also meant a huge fucking turn-on for him. He discreetly adjusted his hard dick, trying to look unfazed.
