“When in doubt always pick C.”
I walk along the third path, weaving in and out of piles of wood, paper and things. Looking around, keeping my eyes peeled I try to take in my surroundings. I try to be aware, but I also see more blood than clarity right now. I blink as much as possible away. I wipe my face but I remove some blood only to replace it with blood from my busted hand. Pointless. I walk up to a dead end of sorts, a pile of wood blocking me.
“Time to climb.” I mumble to myself as I climb up this stupidly unsteady wood.
My leg slides down between boards and I wince as something cuts into my flesh. Looking down I see a nice rusty nail embedded in my skin. Taking a deep breath, I pull my leg up out of the mess of boards. The nail gouges deeper into my leg. I want to scream but nothing escapes my lungs. Leaning on my left side, I reach down with my right arm, pushing at the stray bits of wood around my right leg. One or two boards slide away and bang at the bottom of the pile. Taking another deep breath, I pull my leg backwards, away from the nail. The sound of a nail removing itself from your skin is a unique and indescribable one. It’s nasty to say the least, but my leg is free. Wounded, bleeding badly, but free.
Getting to the top of the pile, I hang over the edge to the other side. Dropping down, I land on my right leg and it bucks under the pressure. The pain so great I fall onto my back.
“Would have been easier if I just doubled back huh, Jasmine. You idiot. Never could do anything like a normal human being. Always have to do it your way.” I angrily mutter at myself.
“Need a hand?” I look up to see Garrison standing above me. His face etched with a sadistic smile. “Looks like you’ve hurt yourself pretty bad there, detective. That wouldn’t have to do with that body upstairs now would it?”
“You know it’s not.”
“True, but when an NYPD officer murders another officer, one has to question everything.”
“You know he attacked me.”
“Yeah, we do. Then again no one really believes anything we say do they? We’re always racists, on the take, vile and evil. You don’t want to take responsibility for being a murderer, blame the cop who arrested you. Call us pigs, spit on us and do what you want. It’s okay, because the public allows it.”
“You’re no better.”
“Never said I was.”
Garrison reaches forward and pulls me up into his grip. He stumbles with me for a second and looks down at his stomach. He pushes me back to the floor hard. My knife embedded in his side.
“That wasn’t very nice, detective. Not playing a fair game I see. You’re no better than the rest of them either. Just so you know.”
He pulls the knife out of his side and tosses the weapon way out of my reach. Pulling out his gun, he points it at me.
“I wanted to play fair, but since you don’t seem to care about rules. First, you free the one person I needed to hold onto and then you stab me.” He pulls the trigger and I feel the hot projectile hit my ankle, shattering the bone.
“If you don’t follow them, then neither will I.”
Screaming at the top of my lungs, I force myself to crawl away from him. I need to get to the door. I hear the click of the gun again.
“You shouldn’t have killed James; he was a good man. Little misguided, but he followed rules very well.”
I hear the popping sound again followed by ripping, burning pain in my right thigh. Falling face first in the dirt, I feel my blood leaving my body too fast for me to keep away.
“Let’s see, about this time the criminal would tell the heroine all about their plan and how things will work out. That’s the funny thing, no matter what I say – it doesn’t matter. Who cares why I did it? You want the closure to make yourself feel better. Personally, I don’t think it’s important. I did what I did because I wanted to. I did what I was told. That has to be enough for you. So when you see our maker, if he in fact exists, tell him I live my life to the best of my ability given the hand I was dealt.”
I place my face in my bloody arms and wait for the final bullet to come. I know Hadley’s free. I know this will be hard on Chase and Frankie, but what’s done is done. I wanted to die for so long, this new fear strangles my breath. I pray all the ones I leave behind can forgive me. I feel Garrison walk up behind me and I focus my thoughts on my nephew and Frankie.
He rolls me over so I am on my back. The blood sticks to the dirt below me and I swear I could feel an infection starting. That could just be my imagination though. The metal door starts up. Garrison turns his attention toward the sound. Normally, when in a right mind, this would be the time to fight back. That being said, I am not in my right mind and I am bleeding out. He leans back over me, his face close to mine.
“Not how I wanted it to play out, but it ends either way.” I feel the metal pressed up against my forehead. I smile at his decision to shoot me in the frontal lobe. If nothing else, I’ll be a vegetable and Frankie will pull life support. She won’t want to, but she will honor my will. I close my eyes again and focus only on Chase. I hear the gun click. I hear a shot ring out, but the pain never comes. Then another shot a second later and my chest begins to burn. I hear three more shots and I see bright lights illuminate the room.
I grab my chest and feel the wetness on my shirt. The pain of everything is so intense, I can’t focus on one thing. I hear people screaming all around me. I see Hadley out of the corner of my eye in another officer’s arms. Will stands above me, the look on his face a bit of fear mixed with anger. His gun firmly aimed at Garrison on the floor.
“You get him?” I sputter through the blood in my mouth.
“Right between the eyes.”
“Didn’t have to be so descriptive.” I cough, it hurts a lot right now.
“Thought you’d like to know. Ambulance is here, they’re just getting a gurney okay?”
I nod and smile aimlessly. “You know they say your life flashes before your eyes before you die.”
“Yeah, I hear that too.”
“My life must have sucked ‘cause all I see is my first boyfriend who couldn’t play a sport to save his life.”
I try to laugh but it hurts too much so I smile with shallow breaths.
“Or you’re going to hell and being reminded of all the bad decisions you made in your life.”
“You think you’re funny.” I hear the paramedics coming over. I tug on Will’s shirt and lower him down to me.
“I killed James. He’s upstairs. Tried to kill me. Lost control.” I let him go and he stands up. He looks up to the second level before looking back at me.
“You did what you had to do. Just like I’ve done. You did good boss.”
I hear the medics talking to one another as they poke my body full of needles and IV’s. Leaning my head back I look at the rafters and wonder if there really is a heaven.
“Pressure’s dropping, we have to go now!” I hear one of them bark to the other. Next thing I know, I feel like I’m flying as I’m being hauled away. I hear Will running behind us, his large military grade boots are unmistakable.
They put me in the ambulance and I look around to see Hadley on the seat to the side. She’s bandaged slightly, hopefully nothing more serious. Will hops in next opposite her and grabs my hand. The two medics get in and I hear the doors close. I assume they had him here for safety, at least I hope that’s the case. I look over to Hadley, but she can’t meet my eyes. I wonder if I’m that much of a mess or if she’s disgusted with what I’ve done. Squeezing Will’s hand, I feel my breath coming slower. I’m tired. I hear them yelling at me to stay awake, but I deserve to sleep. So I do.
Chapter Eleven
There’s are specific smells that can bring you out of a sound sleep. Usually, it’s coffee. Heck, my mother stood over me once with a fresh pot just to get me out of bed. It’s not just the smell truthfully, it’s an emotional attachment to the memories of my mother. We used to have coffee dates when I got older. It was the only time I saw her, but this smell – it’s not coffee. I
t is something so much better.
“Pancakes,” I mumble out loud as my eyes open to the overly bright room. The room is unfamiliar but feels like I’ve been here before. Did Frankie make pancakes for me? No, she couldn’t make a pancake without a pre-made mix. Nothing against those, but this smell is different. It’s fresher, unique. Sitting up quickly, I grab my head and fall back to the bed. Pulsing pain radiates through my skull.
“Pinball machine pain. Nothing like a migraine to start my day.”
Slowing lifting my body off the bed, I swing my feet to the floor. My left one hits the fake lamb like rugs near the bed, my right one hit with a thud. It’s covered in a black metal and plastic boot, so I run my fingers along the edge of it, trying to remember why it’s there. At least when I stand up, the boot manages to hold my weight without causing more pain. My bruised and broken hand looks more like the colors of the rainbow than human.
“Jasmine Marie Steele, you get your lazy butt out of bed and get to the breakfast table!” The yell reaches my ears and as if on autopilot I find myself hobbling out of the room. Not so much due to the pain, but the awkwardness of wearing the boot.
I hear singing in German as I wander down the steps one at a time. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as I get closer. This feels so wrong, out of place, like I shouldn’t be here. At the same time, I want to be here. This was a safe haven for me. My grandmother and I would plant flowers, go to the bakery and get cookies before going to the bank. She gave me a place to be a little adult.
“Your crepes are getting cold!”
Stumbling into the kitchen, I see my grandmother sliding across the tile floor placing food on my plate. Her pug, King, bounces around her feet hoping for a scrap of food to fall from her hands.
“King, you know I made some for you, but you have to wait until mommy sits down.” She places the pan into the sink and spins around. Her smile grows when she sees me. Standing, looking me in the eye, she looks me up and down.
“Jasmine, you are turning into a beautiful woman.”
“Complete with a heavy boot,” I say turning her attention to my foot.
“Yes, well, I said beautiful woman. I said nothing about a coordinated one. Now sit, before King eats your breakfast.” I look over to see the plump pug, sitting in my chair just waiting for my go ahead to eat my food. Pushing him slightly, I watch as he hops down to the floor and then up on the chair next to my grandmother. She cuts a small piece of a separate plate and gives King a piece.
“You made crepes for me.” I stare at the plate in front of me.
“Of course I did. Can’t have you eating your mother’s pancakes. I love her, but these are made with…”
“Lots of love and fresh stuff.” I finish for her. She always told me something made from scratch was always made with love and better ingredients.
“See, you do listen.” I smile as I take a bite of my crepe. King barks letting us know he is ready for his second bite.
“King, patience, my little one.” She feeds him another bite. A wave of pain jackhammers in my head causing me to close my eyes and wince. “You okay?”
“Just a headache. These are so good grandma, they hit the spot. It’s been a long time since I’ve had your cooking.”
“Well, some people are worth slaving over a counter for. Oh gosh, I almost forgot!” She hops up from her chair and heads back into the kitchen.
King stands up, reaches onto the table, and takes the cut up crepe into his mouth. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was smiling at me. Slamming pain in my chest stops my thoughts in their tracks.
“Jasmine, are you sure you’re okay?” I feel her hand rubbing my back helping ease the pain.
“Yeah, it’ll pass.” She pours me a cup of coffee then herself before putting the pot on a cloth resting on the table.
“You should have that checked out. You might not listen to your mother, but you always listen to this old lady who loves you. So, please go to a doctor. I don’t like these chest pains you keep getting.”
“I was born with them grandma. They come and go. No worries. I’m taking good care of myself.”
“This coming from the woman with that contraption on her foot and a multicolored hand?” I watch as she feeds King her breakfast. “I know you’re gay, you don’t need to have a rainbow hand to prove it.” She giggles at her own joke.
“You’re not eating?” I look up at her and she has aged considerably. Her youthfulness now gone.
“You know my stomach goes poof if I eat.” She turns to the empty chair next to her, her eyes misty, “My King would have helped me. He always made me better.”
“Grandma, maybe you should talk to your doctor.”
“Ahh, those crooks only tell you, you’re old so go home. There’s nothing they can do anyhow. I’m old. It’s what happens.”
“There has to be something you can take for the pain,” I gag in more pain as I grab my chest hard. My grandmother watches but says nothing. Catching my breath, I lean back in my chair.
“There is always a magic pill if you believe it will work. Nothing works for me now, Jasmine. I have so many pills. Your mother sets them out by time and day. No, I’m tired of pills. Eat up.”
I take a few more bites of the food in front of me and wash it down with a sip of coffee.
“You are like your mother.”
The comment takes me off guard. Taking another sip of coffee, I swallow hard. I place my fork down.
“How so?”
“For one you both love salt. Gosh, your mother could bury a small country under salt. You are also just as stubborn in how you do things. Can’t see the tree for a forest. You have so much in front of you, but you always look behind you. Tell me, how does your ass look?”
“Umm, bigger than I’d like,” I say laughing at her.
“Exactly, you are so focused on what is behind you that you can’t see what is in front of you. Jasmine, you and I didn’t see eye to eye on everything, but you could always talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, grandma.”
She sits back in her chair and nods her head. She can tell I’m hiding my confusion from her but beyond that I am not sure what she knows. I have a feeling she knows it all, it’s my subconscious talking to me.
“Chase is going to have a lot of questions. He’s going to be scared, very attached to you for some time.”
“I assume he would be. He misses his parents.”
“You died on him too.”
“No I didn’t.” Did I? I don’t remember much about what happened. I was in an ambulance heading to the hospital. I wasn’t dead.
“You coded on the way. He was in the police car with Frankie when they called it in over the radio. The captain was driving them over. He’s not the baddie you know. This is bigger than him.”
“Well, I’m obviously not dead since you’re here and so am I.”
“She’s holding it together as best she can for Chase. You made a good choice in leaving him to her in your worst case scenario.”
“Grandma, I love you, but none of this makes sense. If it’s bigger than the captain…” My chest pounds and I gasp in agony.
“Probably trying to remove the bullet from your chest without hitting any major arteries. Unless they’re repairing the damage already caused by the bullet. Don’t know which one it is really.”
“I’ll do what I have to, just like I’ve always done.”
“I’m not questioning your judgment, but you are.”
“I shouldn’t have gone alone.”
“She would have died.”
“She could have died anyway. I should have called for help.”
“James would have gotten the call and you don’t know what would have happened then,”
“Maybe Will could have helped me figure it out.”
“He found you and killed Garrison, so he did what he needed to do. You can’t try to figure it all out, Jasmine, it will only give you a worse headache.�
�
“I killed James.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I killed him.” The feeling of guilt washes over me like water after you’ve jumped into a pool. It’s all around me and all consuming. “I killed a man. I choose to remove a human being from the planet.”
“You chose to save two lives for the cost of one.”
“I’m not better than him.”
“You sure about that? He would have killed you both without a second thought. He couldn’t have Hadley, even when he offered her freedom. He killed without a care in the world. No emotion, no remorse. You feel guilt. You feel bad. You have a conscience. That makes you different.”
“Maybe, but Garrison…”
“But nothing. He was working a job for his old man. Your job is to find the connection, the paper trail and bring the man and his powerful lackeys to justice.”
“There is none.”
“Maybe not now, but he is a very powerful man and the NYPD just killed his son. He won’t go into hiding. You just have to watch, be patient and catch him.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you don’t. You have to stop holding in your anger and rage towards this man. The man who killed your brother and sister is dead. He can’t hurt you anymore. He can’t haunt your dreams. Let him go.”
“There is more to the case than just that one man.”
“True, but what can you do if you’re dead?”
“Something, anything is better than this.”
“You need to let it go. Chase and Frankie need you to let it go. Don’t hide yourself in this case, Jasmine. Don’t hide yourself in the past like you always do. Live. Be different from your mother and me. Live your life for you, not for some obligation to the family. You’ve given years of your life to us, keep the rest for you. Give Chase the life you always wanted him to have. Let him be a boy and see you as his superhero not as someone who goes back on their word.”
“I would never break my promises to him. Not if I can help it.”
“Yet, here you are. A child interprets many things in their own way. Mostly in ways we adults can’t understand. They’re growing, learning for themselves. He saw you die. That is black and white to him.”
Steele Resolve (The Detective Jasmine Steele Series Book 1) Page 14
