Desperate Measures (Men in Uniform #1)

by Sasha Jayne Moretti

  This was a difficult decision. But the more I thought about it, I realized it wasn’t mine to make. Matthew had to decide for himself. This was my life and I was in it no matter what. If he wanted to be in a relationship with me, it would mean he’d have to sacrifice his privacy. There was no way around it and no way for me to protect him. He’d been honest with me from the get-go, and I’d do the same in return. Tonight, I’d meet with him in secret somewhere. I wouldn’t hold anything back. I’d go over what happened and let him make the call.

  With a stern tone, I said, “My answer is no.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, with furrowed eyebrows.

  This business wasn’t going to run my life. I refused to become some fake version of myself just to satisfy everyone else. If I was going to be successful, it was going to be on my terms or not at all. “I’m not going to live a lie. That might be okay for some people, but that’s not me. That’s not who I am.”

  “You know what’s going to happen if he blows up again,” she warned. “You can’t hide him.”

  “I don’t plan to,” I replied, feeling assured I’d made the right decision. “I’ll let him choose for himself. I make him aware of what’s at stake. He’s not going to do anything that might hurt me. I’m sure of it.”

  Shaking her head, she said, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  I shrugged. “I guess we’re about to find out.”

  Chapter Thirteen – Officer Matthew Weggman

  Julian Harkness was going down.

  I’d spent the entire day going through case files. There was a laundry list of charges going back years. It seemed like the moment he moved to town, women were victimized. Everything from domestic violence to drug-induced rape. But the crazy part was he’d never been formally charged. Not once. Each and every case was dropped within hours of the original filing. He was some kind of criminal Houdini.

  He had to be stopped.

  There was some glimmer of hope. Aaron had met with the officers who’d been on the scene when some of these crimes had been committed. The evidence we needed still existed, but we needed a witness. One of these victims had to come forward. Someone willing to go to court and stand up to this piece of shit. But he knew what he was doing. Half the women Aaron contacted refused to speak with him. And the ones that did all said no. But I wasn’t walking away from this.

  I’d go out and talk to them myself.

  I was sitting at my desk when my cell went off. There was a message from Sloane. I opened the text, but it was a link to an article. When I clicked and saw a picture of us from the photoshoot, I sat back in my chair. There was an article about my outburst in the gossip column. I wasn’t named, but they had the side profile of my face and a clear picture of her. The article went on about what happened, and just like she predicted, they exacerbated the facts and said I’d punched the photographer.

  My phone rang.

  It was Sloane’s number. “Hello?”

  “Did you see what I sent you?” she asked, with tension in her tone.

  I cringed just thinking about it. “I’m sorry. I know this is my fault.”

  “It’s both our faults. I should’ve prepared you for what might happen. I know how terrible they can be. They’ll do almost anything for a story.”

  I rubbed my palm over my two-day old stubble. “What can I do to make this right?”

  “I’d like to meet you tonight. Somewhere they won’t expect me to be. There’s this bar I used to go to, Tipsy Joe’s. It’s not in the best part of town, but no one will expect me to go there. Can you meet me at ten o’clock?”

  I knew that bar quite well. Saying it wasn’t in the best part of town was being nice. It was in the worst part. We had officers down there practically every night. They had fights, prostitution, and drug dealings around the clock. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

  “I know the owner. He’s a good guy.”

  My instincts were screaming to tell her to pick another place, but I knew she had issues with trust. If she was comfortable there, I really had no other choice. I was tempted to invite Aaron along in case things went sour, but that probably wouldn’t work for her. Privacy meant everything to Sloane. Looked like I was on my own. “Alright, I’ll be there at ten.”

  “Talk to you later then,” she replied. “Bye.”

  The call disconnected.

  ☬

  Tipsy Joe’s was as attractive as a sweaty armpit. The dilapidated exterior had rusted out with loose shingles that blew in the wind. The business sign hanging on the brick side had bulbs that needed to be replaced. The scent of old cigarettes permeated the area. Classic rock music could be heard from the inside, but not loud enough to overwhelm the sound of a man puking in the alley. The neighborhood was just as bad. Most of the row houses on the block were abandoned, with boarded up windows.

  The interior wasn’t any better. An old bar that had seen better days was planted right in the middle of the rectangular room with two older bartenders serving drinks. Dark wooden tables lined the side walls with torn red leather seats. A small dance floor took up most of the back. A few couples danced in the back, while one obviously drunk woman swayed to the music by herself. I kept my eyes forward as I strode past a group of bikers sitting together in the corner. They looked like trouble looking for a place to happen.

  I must’ve walked past a dozen code violations before I noticed Sloane sitting at the bar. She was hard to miss in a place like this. Even with a dark hoodie covering most of her head, I saw strands of her fiery red hair poking out the side. She wore eyeglasses, which I’d bet was an attempt to hide her face. As I approached, she was speaking with one of the bartenders. The old guy had to be in his late sixties, early seventies. He was probably the owner of this dump, which made me feel sorry for him. I’d bet this place had been nice once.

  Our eyes finally met and she smiled. I wrapped my arms around her, and said, “Interesting place you’ve got here.”

  She turned her head to the side, facing the bartender. “This is Mack. He’s the owner.”

  I shook his hand.

  He spoke to Sloane. “Take him in the back. No one will bother you in there.”

  “Thank you,” she said, kissing his wrinkled cheek.

  Taking my hand, she led me past the dance floor and into a private room. When she closed the door, I couldn’t hear the blaring music. The room was must’ve been soundproofed. As I scanned the space, I realized it wasn’t much more than a few tables and chairs like the ones in the bar area. The wallpaper was faded red with gold flowers. Most of it was peeling off the walls at the corners. I guessed this room had once been used for private parties.

  She wrapped her arms tightly around my neck. “I’m so glad you came. The paparazzi followed me everywhere. I don’t know how I managed to lose them.”

  I kissed her softly. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I feel awful.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about what happened.” She sat down in a nearby chair. “Right now, the paparazzi have no idea who you are, but it’s only a matter of time.”

  I sat next to her. “I don’t care about them.”

  She lowered her hoodie, letting her hair show. “That’s what you’re saying now, but how are you going to feel when they start following you? Or when they attempt to pay off your friends and co-workers to get information about me?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not going to be happy about it, but I don’t see how it’s avoidable.”

  Taking off her glasses, she replied, “It is avoidable if you walk away now.”

  A knot formed in my chest. Had she brought me here to break it off with me? If that was true, why not do it over the phone? “What’s this about?”

  “I like you, Matt. I really do.” She reached for my hand. “I just don’t want my life to ruin yours. I’m so worried about what this is going to do to you. And I’m afraid you might regret our relationship one day.”

  “Regret this?” I asked, pointing to her and
me. “That’s not possible.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “I told you before, it’s never worked out with someone normal. It always ends the same way.” She wiped a tear away with the back of her hand. “Every time I’ve tried to have something for myself, it blows up in my face.”

  “Listen,” I pulled her into my lap. “I meant what I said before. I want to see where this goes and I’m not going to walk away.” I ran my thumb over her cheek. “I’ve never met anyone like you. And I can already feel myself falling for you. There’s no way I’m going anywhere. You’re going to have to be the one to end things.”

  “You’re really falling for me?” she asked, sniffling.

  “You’re everything I’ve always wanted. You’re fun and smart and always keep me on my toes. And I won’t even get into how sexy you are.” I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “My life has been a non-stop adventure since the moment I met you.”

  “The paparazzi aren’t going to let up. You have to control your temper, even when they bait you. You have to—”

  “I’ll control myself. I promise,” I said, placing my finger over her pouty lips. “I’ll do whatever it takes to be with you.”

  She leaned in and kissed me, releasing all the tension I didn’t realize I had in my shoulders.

  Her phone went off, and she pulled away. When she looked at the screen she said, “I’m sorry, it’s my agent. I have to take this.”

  “Hello,” she said. “Hello?”

  I could hear the crackling as she kept repeating herself. “What’s going on?”

  She stood. “I’ve got no signal in here. I’m going to take this in the alley. Can you go to the bar and order a Diet Coke?”

  No way was I leaving her alone around here. “I’ll go with you,” I insisted.

  “It’s fine.” She waved me off, heading toward a back door. “There’s never anyone out this way. It’s mostly closed off and the dumpster reeks. I’ll be good.”

  Before I could argue any further, she was out the door. She made it clear she was going to do what she wanted. Regardless, I figured I’d give her five minutes. If she wasn’t back by then, I was going after her whether she liked it or not. In the meantime, I’d get her drink.

  “Diet soda in a biker bar.” I said, letting out a chuckle.

  This woman never ceased to surprise me.

  Chapter Fourteen – Sloane Ardent

  The air smelled of vomit and regrets.

  I put my hand over my nose, but it did little to mask the scent. Disgusting. Most of the alley was dark except one small light above the door. I glanced down at my phone. Call ended. My agent left a message. I called my voicemail and listened. I heard the words but it didn’t seem real so I replayed the message. And then again. When I was sure I hadn’t imagined the whole thing, I let out a shrill of excitement.

  The studio had called. I’d gotten the lead in a new movie. The one I’d auditioned for six times. The one I prayed I’d get. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Everything I’d ever wanted was coming true. I was living my dream life. Overwhelmed with emotion, I had to hold back the tears. There’d been so many times I nearly walked away from this business. Moments where I questioned my ability to act.

  And now I was finally exactly where I wanted to be.

  I was so caught up, I hadn’t noticed the group of men heading down the alley. Not until I heard one of them whistle. Three men strolled toward me. As they got closer, I saw their faces. They looked to be in their mid-twenties. Each was casually dressed in jeans and baseball caps. One of them had a can of beer in his hand. Another carried a six pack. The one smoking a cigarette spoke first. “You’re that actress, aren’t ya? Sloane something.”

  “No, sorry.”

  “Yeah, you gotta be. I just took my girl to see that movie.” He elbowed his friend. “What’s the name of it?”

  “How the fuck should I know?” he replied.

  He inhaled another whiff of smoke. “Weren’t you there, asshole?”

  He gazed up into the air like the answer was written in the clouds. “I don’t think so.”

  “I know you were there,” he assured him. “You went with that hairdresser with the big tits. Shireen or something.”

  He chuckled. “Oh yeah, I remember.”

  When his friend didn’t say anything else, he punched him in the arm. “So what was the name of that movie?”

  “Who fucking cares?” he yelled back.

  They all laughed.

  It was obvious they were all drunk. This had the potential to become a bad situation for me. I reached for the knob. The door had locked behind me. I knocked hard. A cold shiver raced up my spine. I’d sent Matthew to the bar for a soda. He wouldn’t hear me. I had no choice. I’d have to walk back up the alley and go through the front door if I wanted back inside.

  But I’d have to pass by these guys first. “Well, it was nice meeting you guys. I hope you have a nice night.”

  They didn’t move out of the way. “Where ya going?”

  I pointed behind them. “That way.”

  “Why don’t you stay a while?” Beer drinking guy asked. “It’s still early.”

  I tried to push my way through, but they blocked me. “Get out of the way.”

  “You don’t have to be scared.” Six pack said. “We just want to have some fun.”

  “Last warning,” I replied.

  They glanced at each other and laughed. “Last warning,” Cigarette mocked.

  I punched him in the throat, sending him backwards. He lost his balance and fell to the ground. Six pack stared at me with eyes wide with shock. He never saw my elbow coming as I punched into his stomach, then kicked his legs out. The only one left standing was the beer drinker. He put his hands up in retreat. I was about to leave when I heard him mutter something under his breath. I turned around and gave him a right hook. I was pretty sure the click I heard was his nose breaking.

  “What the hell is going on?” Matthew asked, standing at the door. “Did they attack you?”

  I stood in a fighting stance with my fists up around my face and knees bent. Ready in case any of them wanted to go another round. When they only groaned, I said, “We seemed to have a misunderstanding. But we’re cool now, right boys?”

  Beer drinker sat on the ground holding his bloody nose. “We’re good. Everything’s cool.”

  I waved at Matthew. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  We both had to step over them as we made our way down the slim alley. I glanced over my shoulder a few times to make sure they didn’t try to surprise us while our backs were turned. They were all still on the cement. I doubted they’d ever do anything like that again. Once we reached the street I let out a sigh of relief. There were lots of people going in and out of the bar. We were safe out here.

  Matthew reached for my hand, examining the cut on my knuckle. There was a little blood, which seemed to infuriate him. He face turned red and he attempted to walk back to them. I grabbed him by the waist and he stopped. “They hurt you,” he growled.

  “I’m fine,” I assured him, pecking him on the cheek.

  He let me lead him back to his car. “I should throw their asses in jail.”

  They hadn’t put up much of a fight, and what happened was likely alcohol fueled. I didn’t see the need to have them arrested, especially since I’d be the one pressing charges. After what happened at the photoshoot, I didn’t need any more of that kind of publicity. “Trust me, they learned their lesson.”

  “I want you to come home with me,” he insisted. “Let me take care of that cut.”

  “It’s fine.” I stared down at the tiny mark. “It doesn’t even hurt.”

  His green eyes bore into mine. “Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder like a caveman. You’re coming home with me.”

  The intensity in his tone made my core tingle. I doubted his whole alpha male thing would ever get old. I shrugged like it didn’t matter, then made my way over to the passenger side
of his car. “Fine.”

  “Where’s your car,” he asked, gruffly.

  “I took a cab,” I replied, clipping my seatbelt.

  He started the engine, then pulled out of the parking lot. “Perfect, now we don’t have to retrieve a car.”

  We drove for more than forty minutes toward the west side of town. As we went I noticed my knuckle had swelled. Maybe the injury was a bit more than I let on. He eventually stopped in front of a gated community with lots of palm trees. After pressing a code, we entered a large apartment complex. It was a nice size for LA. We passed a pool, basketball court, and some playground equipment before he parked in front of the last brick building on the street.

  “This is me,” he said. “I’m on the second floor.”

  We headed up two cement staircases until we arrived at his front door. Fishing his keys out of his pocket, he opened the door and ushered me inside. He switched the lights on and I scanned the area. Just like his vehicle, the place was spotless. Shiny hardwood flooring ran through every room. The entertainment area had two large cream colored sofas, two end tables, and a huge flat-screen television that was mounted on the wall. The rest of the décor was pretty sparse. Matthew definitely wasn’t a fan of clutter.

  He hung his jacket up in the closet, then headed into another room. I peeked around the corner and saw that he was in the kitchen rooting through a cabinet. There wasn’t much to it. Simple brown cabinets, tan countertops, and a small table by the window. I pulled out a chair and sat down. “This place is really nice.”

  “Thanks,” he replied, as he plopped down in the chair next to me. He sat a medicine kit on top of the table glass. “I need to see that hand, Slugger.”

  “Some ice is really all I need.” I assured him. “You don’t need to go to any trouble.”

  Ignoring me, he asked, “Where’d you get those Bruce Lee moves?”

  I smiled. “I got three months of martial arts training on my last movie. I’m not a black belt or anything, but I can handle myself.”