Rank & File (Anchor Point Book 4)

by L. A. Witt

  In the living room, Brent looked at me. “So, what happens now?”

  “When my patrols are finished getting their statements, everyone will be free to go unless there’s a reason we should arrest someone.” I paused. “I would recommend that you not stay here after—”

  “Ten steps ahead of you,” he muttered. “Just need to figure out how—” His features tightened. Then he closed his eyes again. “God, I am so stupid.”

  I eased myself onto the sofa where I’d been earlier. “Something I should know?”

  Brent laughed humorlessly. “Besides how much of an idiot I am?” He turned to me. “She wanted to meet up for drinks first. Soon as I got there, she said we should go back to her place, and insisted we take her car.” He rolled his eyes. “And there I was, thinking with my dick and not realizing she didn’t want my car in their driveway in case he showed up.” He gestured sharply in the general direction of the husband. “Fuck. You’d almost think she’s done this before.”

  I bit back an unprofessional comment. I’d been a Navy cop for almost nineteen years. The cheating that happened within military marriages was eye-watering, and yeah, this particular wife probably had enough experience to know how to cover her tracks. Or, at least, to try to cover her tracks. In fact, I’d have bet money that the only reason she and Brent had been busted tonight was a nosy neighbor tipping off the husband. Wouldn’t be the first time, and wouldn’t be the last.

  Brent drummed his fingers on the armrest and looked right at me. His blue eyes were so intense, it took me a second to realize he’d spoken.

  “Sorry, come again?”

  He eyed me, but didn’t seem annoyed. Curious, if anything. “I asked when I could get out of here.”

  “Oh. Let me check in with my MAs again and see if they’re finished.” I pushed myself back to my feet. “Sounded like they were wrapping things up.”

  I ordered the spouses to stay put. Nobody put up a fight. The husband lit another cigarette, and the wife buried her attention in her phone.

  I took my patrols in the kitchen, and everything checked out. The wife corroborated Brent’s story, and the husband had come home after a neighbor had texted him. Damn. Either I was getting good at this, or it was just another case of base housing déjà vu. Nobody wanted to press charges. Nobody needed to go to medical. The husband was going to go crash at a friend’s house. The wife was going to stay here. Neither she nor Brent had any desire to speak to each other, which led me to believe their story really did check out. They were strangers, not lovers who’d finally been caught.

  MA2 Lee took the wife into another room so her husband could pack an overnight bag, and she handed me Brent’s shirt, shoes, and jacket.

  While Brent was tying his shoes, the husband suddenly walked into the living room, MA3 Harvey hot on his heels.

  “Wait,” Harvey said. “He’s not ready for—”

  “Sir.” I put a hand up and put myself between Brent and the husband. “I need you to wait a minute.”

  The husband sighed heavily. “Look, I don’t . . .” He made an exhausted motion toward Brent. “I just want to get my shit and go. I don’t have any beef with him.”

  Brent and the husband’s eyes locked; there was no hostility. They both seemed tired, defeated, and more than a little humiliated.

  Softly, Brent said, “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  The husband nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

  They exchanged a look. Then Brent got up, moving like it took all the effort in the world, and stepped away from the chair so the husband could continue toward the bedroom without them rubbing elbows. The husband walked past without another word.

  “Sorry,” MA3 Harvey said. “He got away from—”

  “It’s okay.” I paused. “Can you and MA2 Lee take it from here?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, we’ve got it. Thanks, Senior.” He followed the husband.

  I turned to Brent. “Where’s your car?”

  He swallowed. “By McCade’s. Outside Gate 4.”

  I motioned for him to follow me. “Come on. I’ll drop you off.”

  There was a cop car on the curb in front of Jenna’s house, but the cop who’d offered me a ride continued toward a black pickup parked next to it. Government issue, probably with a light bar hidden in the grill or the bottom of the windshield, but not quite as conspicuous as the patrol car. Fine by me.

  As I buckled my seat belt, I said, “I, uh, never caught your name.”

  “Senior Chief Curtis.”

  I faced straight ahead and tongued the sweet spot where my tooth had sliced into the inside of my lip. Curtis wasn’t terse about his introduction, just businesslike. Which made sense. He was a cop. He wasn’t here to be friendly. But right then, with as raw and stupid as I felt, it would’ve been nice for someone to do one better than cool professionalism.

  As he drove out of the cul-de-sac and into the maze of base housing, I stole a few looks at him. Not that I could see much in the glow of the streetlights or the faint blue from the dashboard, but I’d memorized quite a bit of his face while we’d sat there in Jenna’s living room. It hadn’t been the time or the place, but drooling over the hot cop had been a step up from wallowing in how much of an idiot I was or how thoroughly I’d fucked my career.

  He was a bit young for a senior chief. Maybe midthirties or so? Most senior chiefs were in their forties. Maybe he just looked younger. He had a few lines and a few grays, not to mention sharp features and eyes that were perfect for a cop—hard when he was ordering a room full of screaming people to shut up, soft when he was talking to someone who was nervous and shaky. God, he was hot. And the blue digicams looked ridiculously sexy on cops anyway. The uniform itself was kind of generic, but add a police belt and a side arm strapped around the thigh, and . . . whoa. Too bad he was enlisted.

  And a cop. A cop who’d come to calm shit down before Jenna’s husband tore my throat out or something, and who was taking me back to my car because I’d gotten my dumb ass into that situation to begin with. Pretty sure it didn’t matter that I was an officer and he was enlisted.

  “You gonna be all right tonight?” His voice startled me enough I actually jumped. When he glanced my way, his brow creased with palpable concern, and I wondered if he thought I was just rattled from everything that had happened. I was good with that. Better than him realizing he’d nearly caught me ogling him.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m . . .” I focused hard on the street in his headlights. “It’s been a hell of a night.”

  “Sounds like it.” Silence fell, and I thought that might be the end of the conversation, but then he went on. “For what it’s worth, you’re not the first and you won’t be the last.”

  “Huh?”

  Curtis tapped his thumbs on the wheel. “Getting duped into thinking someone is single. Finding out the hard way that they’re not.” His eyes flicked toward me for a second. “Everyone always feels like an idiot, but it happens a lot.”

  “Doesn’t make us any less stupid.”

  “I’d say you’re more deceived than stupid.”

  “I should’ve figured it out, though.”

  He was quiet again, this time for almost a minute. “At my last command, I responded to a call that was a lot like this one. Only difference was the guy in your role had been seeing the woman for months. I have no idea how she kept the wool over his eyes that long, but you’ve never seen a more shocked face than when her husband came home from deployment.”

  I stared at him. “Seriously?”

  Curtis nodded. “It really does happen. A lot. Only way it could be completely avoided would be to do a thorough background check on every person you want to hook up with.” He glanced at me again. “I’m a cop, and even I don’t do that.”

  To my surprise, I actually felt better. No less shaken up, and still pretty stupid, but . . . better. If nothing else, because he didn’t think I was stupid. For some reason, that was important right now.

  Neither of us said anyth
ing for the rest of the drive, which wasn’t all that long. The entrance to that particular section of base housing was pretty close to Gate Four. Housing was under Navy jurisdiction, but this section of it wasn’t physically on the base. It was a development about half a mile away, and there were a shitload of bars and clubs in between. There were bars and clubs clustered around every gate on every base, but the seedier meat market ones always seemed to be closer to base housing. Couldn’t imagine why.

  “You said McCade’s, right?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” The bar’s familiar red and green neon lights came into view, and I gestured toward it. “Right there.”

  Curtis put on his blinker even though there was no one else on the road—such a cop—and pulled into the parking lot.

  “Here is good,” I said. “I can walk the rest of the way.”

  He stopped gently beside a couple of other cars. “Take care, all right?”

  “I will.” I turned to him, intending to thank him for the ride, but my tongue suddenly stuck to the roof of my mouth. I couldn’t decide if it had just been a long time since I’d looked at him, or if there was something about the way the parking lot lights picked out his blue eyes, but Jesus Christ, I didn’t want to look away. He really was hot. Like . . . hot.

  He was also enlisted, as the stripes and anchors on his lapels made very clear. And he was probably straight. He probably also needed to get back to work instead of sitting here with the idiot lieutenant who was just horny because he’d been interrupted before he’d had a chance to get his rocks off.

  I cleared my throat. “Thanks. For the lift. I really appreciate it.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  I smiled, and let myself steal another second or two of drinking in his features. Weirdly enough, he didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t look away either.

  He started to say something, but then his radio sputtered, startling the fuck out of both of us. I didn’t understand what the voice on the other end said, but Curtis scowled, pressed the button, and responded, “Copy that. On my way.” He looked at me again, an apologetic grimace on his face. “I gotta go.”

  “Right.” I reached for the door. “Thanks again.”

  “You’re welcome, sir.”

  Why was it so weird to hear him call me sir? He didn’t have to when we were out of uniform, but it . . .

  Well, whatever. I couldn’t think anymore tonight. I opened the door and went to step out, but it turned out that isn’t very effective with a still-buckled seat belt. Feeling like an idiot for the fortieth time tonight, I unbuckled it, tried again, and made it out of the truck this time.

  Senior Chief Curtis left, and I stared at his taillights until they’d disappeared down the road. Then I headed for my car.

  I made it as far as the driver’s seat and got the key into the ignition, but that was it. I leaned back in the seat like I had in that chair at Jenna’s while Curtis had questioned me. Funny. I’d never really felt like he was interrogating me. If anything, he’d seemed more concerned that I was all right. Yeah, he’d wanted to find out what happened, especially since he’d thought her husband had hit me, but he hadn’t made me as nervous as I’d expected a cop to. Or maybe I’d just been so relieved that Jenna and her husband had been out of the room.

  I closed my eyes and exhaled through my nose. Tonight had turned out to be such a fucking disaster. All I’d wanted was to get laid, and Jenna had apparently been on the same page. Hell, desperate as I was tonight, she probably could have been wearing her wedding ring, shown me that gigantic wedding portrait on the wall, and introduced me to her husband, and it still wouldn’t have registered because my little brain had been running the show.

  Thinking about that, I cringed. I wasn’t a pig who saw women—or men—as holes to put my dick in, but I’d been stressed and horny lately. I’d been upfront on Tinder that I wanted sex and nothing else so there would be no false expectations, and when the hot brunette had responded, I’d been sold.

  Should’ve known she was too good to be true.

  And then, because I wasn’t frustrated enough—Jenna had gotten off, but I hadn’t—the cop that showed up had turned out to be Curtis. Gorgeous Curtis. Maybe I should’ve been on Grindr tonight because apparently I was in the mood for a man. Or, at least, I was now. Christ, one look at that hot cop, and now I was seriously jonesing for a guy.

  Pity that hot cop was probably straight, definitely on duty, and absolutely enlisted. He couldn’t be any more off-limits if he tried.

  Son of a bitch.

  I’d been at the office five minutes the next morning when I got called into my commander’s office. Base security worked quickly, apparently—they hadn’t wasted any time getting that report to the powers that be.

  Might as well get it over with, so I put my jacket and coffee cup in my office, then walked back up the hall. I knocked on my boss’s door.

  “It’s open.”

  I paused to pray that this wasn’t a career-ender, then stepped inside and closed the door. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

  Commander Wilson eyed me over a printout of something, but his voice was mellow. “Have a seat, Lieutenant.”

  I did.

  He put the printout on his desk and folded his hands on top of it. “You want to tell me what happened last night?”

  I met an insanely hot cop and really wish I’d invited him home and—

  Wait.

  No, you meant the other part.

  I gulped. “I, um . . .” There was no point in trying to play stupid or bullshit Commander Wilson. And, really, I didn’t want to. He was about the most relaxed person I’d ever met in the Navy. Completely cool with letting people do their jobs, and only getting in their faces if they made it clear they’d not only fucked up, they had every intention of continuing to fuck up until someone gave them an attitude adjustment. A few people in the department had learned the hard way that Wilson’s bad side was not a place you wanted to be.

  So I cleared my throat and sat a little straighter. “I met a woman online, and we met up for . . .” The heat in my cheeks made me wince. “Anyway, I didn’t realize she was married until her husband came home.”

  Wilson gave a slow single nod of understanding. He skimmed over the report. “There’s a note on here that you had blood on your mouth.”

  I absently tongued the cut, which was closed now but distinct. “It . . . wasn’t because anyone got violent. She bumped me with her elbow, and I . . .” I motioned toward my mouth.

  “I see. Why was base security called?”

  “I’m not sure, to be honest.” I tried not to fidget in the chair. “The couple got into it, and wouldn’t let me leave, and—”

  “Hold on.” His eyes widened. “They wouldn’t let you leave?”

  “Uh. Well.” My face must’ve been bright red. “I don’t think they’d have physically forced me to stay, but at the time, I was scared, and he was pissed, and . . .” I waved a hand. “I guess I kind of froze.” I summed up the rest as best I could, from the part where the two young cops couldn’t quite get Jenna and her husband to cool it, and when Senior Chief Curtis had shown up and gotten a handle on the situation. I left out the part where I’d shamelessly checked out the senior chief at the most inappropriate moments. Commander Wilson was openly gay, married to another officer who worked right down the hall, but he’d probably look askance at my lapse in military bearing.

  When I’d finished giving him the most professional explanation of everything that had gone down, he nodded. “All right.” He pushed the printout aside. “You’re good. I just wanted to hear it from you so I knew what was going on.”

  Thank God. He dismissed me, and that was the end of it.

  In fact, to my surprise, it really was the end of it. I didn’t know how many people had heard about last night, but as the week continued, no one said another word about the domestic at Jenna’s house. Security didn’t follow up on anything. Navy legal didn’t get in touch. Commander Wilson didn
’t mention anything. I didn’t hear so much as a rumor around the watercooler.

  Jenna’s husband didn’t knock down my office door either, though I really hadn’t expected him to. After that exchange right before I’d left, the guy had seemed more devastated than angry. Like the screaming and shouting with Jenna had kept him going, but as soon as everything had quieted down, the truth had sunk in. His wife had cheated on him in his own bed. Maybe he’d suspected it for a while. Maybe he’d been blindsided. Either way, now he knew, and it was painfully obvious that the truth hurt. Somehow he’d had the presence of mind to understand that I honestly hadn’t known and that I was genuinely sorry for the role I’d played.

  I felt for the guy. I thought about him a lot over the next week, and wondered if he was all right. For all I knew, he’d been an utter dick to Jenna and deserved every cum stain that wasn’t his on their sheets, but I didn’t think so. It might’ve just been my guilty conscience, but my gut said no.

  Whatever had happened, though, I didn’t see or hear from either of them, and still, no one said a word. Which meant I needed to move on, forget it ever happened, and figure out what to do about this simmering sexual frustration.

  Only problem was I couldn’t get that night out of my mind. Every time I drove past base housing or saw a patrol car, my mind went straight back to that night.

  Not the part where I’d had my head between Jenna’s thighs, going to town on her and making her crazy right up until the sound of a key in the door had turned it all into a frenzy of panic. Not the part where I’d gone home, horny as hell and on the verge of blue balls, and couldn’t even rub one out because I’d been too frustrated, not to mention irrationally sure that some angry husband would come crashing through the wall like the Kool-Aid Man.

  No, I kept going right back to the ride to McCade’s. To the cop who’d driven me. And with him almost constantly on my mind, I was way hornier than I’d been the night Jenna and I had hooked up.

  I hadn’t been with a guy in a while. Maybe that was it. I’d been with plenty of women recently, but guys . . . it had been at least three or four months since the last one, and a good six months since I’d driven up to Seattle and spent the weekend with various dicks down my throat. Maybe that was what I needed. Not another weekend of debauchery—that had been fun, but in that exhausting, once-in-a-blue-moon kind of way. Just someone to get naked and sweaty with for a night.