by Young, M. H.
I didn’t want to tell her that I would just go outside call Drew. Even though he had given me his number before anything had happened between us, I know how much trouble he’d be in if anyone suspected there was more between us than just a police officer looking after the victim of a crime.
I was just about to leave when I heard a voice behind me. “You looking for Detective Brody?”
I turned to see Vasquez, the older female detective who had conducted my interview with Drew. She seemed to study me.
“It’s okay, I’m going to come back tomorrow.”
“No need,” she said. “Come on through. I’ll bring you up to speed on what’s happening.”
“It’s really fine.”
“It’s no trouble,” she said. I could have argued, but it might have seemed more suspicious. She led me through a side door and down the corridor I’d been down before. The smell of the place, bleach mixed cheap deodorant, was becoming familiar.
“So?” she said. “Was there anything in particular?”
I shrugged. “No, I just wanted to know if you were going to, y’know, arrest him?”
I could feel my face getting red. I was a terrible liar. Plus, Vasquez had a way of making me feel that she never quite believed anything I said. It was probably just a police thing. I imagined people lied to them a lot, and that meant they were naturally suspicious.
She led me into a smaller side room. I sat down and she perched on the edge of the table next to me.
“I’m gathering evidence and talking to the DA’s office. We don’t want to rush into an arrest that we won’t be able to stand up. But I’m doing my best. I promise you that.”
“That’s good, I guess.”
She stood up. “I’ll walk you back out. As soon as I have more news, I’ll call you.”
She kept saying I. She hadn’t mentioned Drew once. It put me on edge. “What about Detective Brody?”
“Oh, that was the other thing I wanted to mention. He’s no longer working this case.” She hesitated. I could her eyes searching my face.
“Why?” I asked her, trying not to sound confused and panicky and doing a bad job.
She shrugged, casual, but her eyes were far from it. “I have no idea. That’s not a problem, is it? Most victims of this type of crime usually prefer to have a woman supervising.”
I backtracked a little too fast, stumbling over my words. “Of course, yeah, I understand. That’s fine.”
Twenty-Four: Drew
I was fresh out of the shower when I heard the knocking at the door. Judging by the hammering on my apartment door it was urgent. I grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around my waist.
“Okay, okay, I’m coming.”
I padded out of the bathroom, and into the hallway, leaving wet footprints as I went. I slid back the deadbolt and opened the door.
Laura marched straight past me and into my apartment. At the end of the hallway, she turned round, her hands on her hips.
“So, were you going to tell me?”
I wasn’t going to play dumb. I already knew what this was about. Vasquez had called me as soon as Laura had left. Not that I’d told anyone at the station about what had happened between us, or that I had feelings for this girl; feelings I struggled to control. I’d worked with Vasquez long enough that I didn’t have to say any of that. You worked with people, especially doing a job as intense as police work, and you could read them pretty easily. Within a few months, between cop intuition and office scuttlebutt, you knew who had a drink problem, who was having an affair with a colleague, who was gay, but hadn’t yet come of out the closet. If cops could usually sniff out where something was off within sixty seconds of pulling someone over, it was inevitable.
I’d had no real choice. I’d had to tell Vasquez and my boss I wanted off the case. Continuing would have been terminal as far as my career went. When I told her that I thought it best all round if I moved to something else, using the cover that these cases really were best handled by a woman, she didn’t argue. I didn’t know for sure because I didn’t ask her, but I got the impression from the smile playing at the edge of her mouth that she knew there was something going down. But I had done the right thing as far as being a cop went. Being involved with a victim was bad, doing it while actively working that case was a defense lawyer’s dream come true. Don’t ask, don’t tell was how a lot of people rolled on the job. Don’t let your personal mess up work. That was the rule. What I hadn’t figured on was Laura’s reaction. I’d hoped she’d understand. And, maybe she would, but right now she was pissed.
“Are you mad at me because I quit the case or because I didn’t tell you?” I asked.
“Both.”
I looked down at the towel wrapped around my waist. “Do you mind if I put some clothes on?”
“Sure,” she said.
I could tell she was struggling to maintain her anger. It takes a lot of energy to stay mad.
In my bedroom, I took my time drying off and getting dressed. The door was still cracked. “Help yourself to coffee or juice, whatever you want.”
I threw on a pair of denims and a t-shirt. I ran my fingers through my hair. I wasn’t a guy who spent any amount of time in front of a mirror. As long as I was clean and smelled good. I checked emails on my cell for a few minutes, looking out for anything work related that wouldn’t wait. There was one that stood out. A confirmation of something I’d discussed with Vasquez.
By the time I came back out, Laura was sipping a glass of orange juice in the kitchen. She still looked mad, just not incandescent. The wait had taken the edge off.
I grabbed come coffee from the pot I’d made earlier. I took a sip and stared at her over the rising steam.
“Your refrigerator’s kinda gross,” she said.
“Yeah. I’m not really a domestic God. But if I ever need penicillin, it’s right next to the cheese.”
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” she asked.
“Are you prepared to listen?” I said, putting my coffee down on the counter. My kitchen was kind of gross, but I was never here. I was either at work, at the gym, or out doing stuff. I was only ever here to sleep and take a shower.
She didn’t say anything. I read her silence as a yes, took a deep breath, and started.
“Laura, I like you, and I know you like me. We have a connection. I know we do. I can feel it every time I’m in the same room as you.”
I studied her. Nothing.
“I want to hurt that asshole for hurting you. The other night I actually went to his house. I was off duty, I had no business being there, but I went.”
That got a reaction. Her eyes widened, her lips parted. “Why?”
I shook my head. “Why do you think?”
“Did you try to hurt him?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No, but I had my gun, and I was thinking about it. I’ve seen some horrible things being a cop, and I’ve met some people who were so evil, you can’t even imagine. But I’ve never even gotten near to crossing a line like I did the other night with Harper.” I could feel my throat getting dry. I wasn’t usually a guy for speeches. I took a sip of coffee. “It’s too dangerous for me to be working it when I’m like this. Never mind what would happen if my boss found out that I’d seen you, or Bentley’s lawyers for that matter.”
“He’s not even been arrested.” She hesitated. “There’s something else, isn’t there? Something you’re not telling me.”
“When I went to check out his place, he wasn’t alone.”
I could hear the catch in her voice. “There was another girl with him?”
“The football player that you told me your boyfriend had a tussle with in the club? That didn’t just happen. Harper didn’t just swoop in like the white knight from nowhere. They’re buddies. We already had a warrant to seize the footage from the security cameras. It goes back a month. Two weeks before he ran into you guys, the exact same thing happened. Girl out with some male friends. Same dumb jock threa
tens them. Harper steps in, establishes himself as the good guy, and invites them all back to his place. You can guess the rest. He’s got a couple of scams that he runs. That’s just one of them.”
I gave her a moment. It was a lot to process. Hell, it had been a lot for me to process. I had figured that he was just an opportunist. There was more to it, a lot more, but I didn’t want to dump it all on Laura in one go. I wasn’t even sure I should have told her as much as I did. In fact, I knew I shouldn’t have.
So why had I? I didn’t like the answer. I wanted her to know because I hoped it would help her understand why I’d had to take a step back. And, I’d had to step back because of how she made me feel.
It was fucked up. I should have stayed on the case, but kept my distance from Laura. But it was too late for that. I’d crossed a line. Now I was in too deep. We both were.
Twenty-Five: Laura
What Drew had just told me threw me for a loop. I didn’t know what to say. It was a lot to take in all at once. The night suddenly made more sense, a lot more. But it left me with a bigger question: why would someone do something like that? And why would others help them?
“You look like you need to sit down,” said Drew.
I did. I took a seat on his couch as the room spun around me. He pressed a hot mug of coffee into my hand. I pulled down the sleeves of my top so I could hold it without burning my hands. More than anything I wanted Drew to hold me, just like he had before. But I couldn’t bring myself to ask him.
“Laura?”
I looked up at him.
“You can’t tell anyone what I just told you. And you can’t say anything about us. Not to Kishani, not to anyone.”
Us? He’d used the word us. “There’s an ‘us’“?
He ignored my question. “I could lose my job,” he said.
“Don’t worry,” I reassured him. “I haven’t told anyone, and it was only a hug. It’s not like we slept together.”
I was lying. Not on the details, but on what the details had meant. It had been more than a hug. A hug was something that might happen between friends. There was more between us than just friendship. That was why Drew had done what he had.
I realized now that I hadn’t really come round because I was mad that he’d dropped his involvement in my case. I was here because I wanted to know why he’d done it. And now I had my answer.
I got up from where I was sitting. Drew was leaning against the kitchen counter, his hair still wet. His eyes never leaving me, not even for a second.
I walked over to him, and put down the mug. My hand brushed his side. I was side on to him. His body was tense. He turned to face me. I closed my eyes as his lips brushed against my hair.
All thoughts of what had happened were gone. There was no Bentley, or John, or any other man for that matter. There was only him. And me.
I ran my right hand down the side of his face, feeling the stubble. I kept going, tracing a line down his neck until my hand fell onto his chest. I could feel the ripple of muscle as my hand moved down across his sleek, taut, abdominal muscles.
He pulled me into him, his hands encircling my waist. My head tilted back as he planted tiny, soft kisses all the way down my neck.
My hand kept moving, skirting round, down his thigh, before moving back up to rub his cock. I could feel myself getting wet. We were exchanging long, deep, kisses; his tongue inside my mouth, then mine is his. His kisses were perfect; soft, yet forceful. He held my face as he kissed me then his hands moved down back my body, rubbing my breasts, stroking my arm, falling down my back to squeeze my ass.
My hand fell to the zip of his jeans. I started to tug it down. My hand pushed inside. I rubbed my palm against his cock as it grew in my hand, thick and broad.
He took a step back. “Not here,” he said, literally picking me up, one arm under my shoulders, the other under my knees, as he carried me through into the bedroom.
He dropped me down on the bed. I squirmed up onto my side, my hand propping up my head. I reached out and grabbed his belt, pulling him in towards me. I popped the top button of his jeans, and yanked them down.
His cock sprang out through his boxer shorts. Like the rest of him, it was big. I kissed the tip and ran my tongue up and down it, staring up at him all the while as his fingers rang through my hair.
I took him inside my mouth. He grew even harder. After a few moments I felt him lift my head away from him. He sat down on the bed next to me.
Slowly, he started to undress me. There was no fumbling or awkwardness. He teased me with tiny kisses as he worked, His hands moving over every inch of my body. When I was naked, he stood back up. He seemed to drink me in with his eyes.
He took off his shirt, revealing his broad swimmer’s shoulders that tapered in a V to his waist, and an eight pack of lean stomach muscles. I helped him pull down his jeans, my hands clasping his tight ass.
He lay on the bed next to me, kissing my face again, running his tongue down my neck, kissing the nape and behind my ears. I shuddered with delight.
He kept moving down, kissing and sucking my breasts. His right hand reached up to my face, his thumb pushing between my lips. I ran my tongue over it for a moment.
He buried his head between my legs. He teased and probe with his tongue, kissing my thighs before finally pushing his tongue inside me.
My body shuddered as he licked my pussy, first slowly, swirling his tongue over inch inch, then gradually becoming insistent, teasing my clit with the tip of his tongue. My nails dug into the sheets either of me as I moaned with pleasure. I reached down and ran my fingers through his hair as he kept licking, and probing.
His hands pushed up over my stomach, thumbs touching, as he stroked my body, moving up to my breasts. I was wetter than I have ever been. I could feel myself starting to climax. A delicious wave rushed through me as my pussy flushed hot.
My moans spurred him on as he set a steady with rhythm with his tongue. My back arched, his massive hands falling back down, and cupping my ass cheeks, lifting my hips, all the better for him to lick and kiss between my legs.
The wave began to fall away, leaving tiny aftershocks of pleasure to well up behind the main swell. I wanted him inside me.
He came up for air, kissing his way back up my body to my face, nuzzling my neck before his lips met mine. I could feel his hardness against my thigh. I reached a hand down to guide him in.
He moved slowly inside me; firm but considerate. I stared into those blue eyes. He smiled. “You’re so beautiful.”
We moved together. My arms wrapped around his shoulders as he thrust inside me. He was so powerful, he could lift me up. My legs wrapped his waist, my arms cinched around his neck, he lifted me from the bed, still inside me.
His hands molded around my ass as I rode him. His cock was deep inside me. He lifted me up and down on it. I buried my face against his neck, screaming and squealing, and coming again as I rode up and down.
I could feel him stiffen. He laid me back down on the bed. His thrust became harder and faster. His eyes closed as he came inside me. He slowed but kept moving as I rode a second delicious wave.
He bit down gently on my bottom lip. We exchanged deep, passionate kisses. After a time, we slowed to a stop. He stayed inside me. We kissed and nuzzled and drank each other in.
At peace with the world, I closed my eyes and began to drift off to sleep. The last thing I remembered was Drew kissing me to sleep as the warmth of his body folded all around me.
Twenty-Six: Drew
I woke to the sound of my cell ringing on my nightstand. Laura didn’t wake. I untangled myself from her, grabbed the phone, and, stopping for a second to pull the sheets up over her, headed into the living room.
“Yeah?”
I’d been waiting for this call. It was Vasquez. They’d pulled in the football player I’d seen at Harper’s place for questioning, and he’d dimed out his buddy.
“What’d he give you?” I asked Vasquez.
“
Pretty much everything. Names, places, dates.”
I fist-pumped the air. This was what he’d been hoping for. In exchange for his cooperation, we were prepared to cut him some slack. He’d likely not even have to do time. Lucky for him, because some white frat boy sitting on the mainline in prison was going to have his sexual horizons seriously widened by the other cons.
“It could get a whole lot better too,” said Vasquez.
I waited. I could sense the excitement in her voice.
“According to the State’s star witness, Harper was in the habit of recording the assaults,” she said.
I closed my eyes, and thanked God. If we could get that kind of proof, we’d be golden. Laura might not even have to testify. There was a chance that in return for a reduced yet still substantial sentence, Bentley Harper might plead guilty. If you were looking at fifteen years plus, then serving seven looked pretty good when the DA offered it.
“We have a warrant to search his beach house,” said Vasquez. “You in?”
I hesitated. More than anything I wanted to see the look on his face when we showed up, but Laura was asleep in my apartment. If we’d skirted close the line before, this morning we’d obliterated it entirely. If it got out that I’d just slept with her, I’d be in a world of pain. That was why I’d asked to be moved from the case.
“I’ll be there,” I said, killing the call.
I went back into the bedroom. Laura was starting to wake. I leaned over to kiss her. She was smiling, her eyes still closed. “I have to go,” I told her.
She grabbed my hand, and tried to pull me down onto the bed. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her back up. The warmth of her body felt so good, but I really did have to go. But I didn’t want her to think I was running out on her.
“I’m glad that happened,” I said.
She looked at me with those soft brown eyes. “Me too.”
“Stay here as long as you like. I’ll call you later.”
She smiled. “I’d like that.”
