A Matter of Time 06 - But For You (MM)

by Mary Calmes

  She turned and looked up at me. “If you can’t reach out and touch me, I’m too far.”

  “Right.” I extended my hand.

  It was funny how she walked backward until my palm touched her back; I thanked her for respecting my wishes.

  “Nana says that you thanking me is bad, that I should just do what you say.”

  “And what do you think?”

  “I think she’s right, but I like it when you say thank you.”

  I took Hannah’s hand as I watched Kola do some weird contortionist walk. “Why is he doing that?” I asked her.

  “He doesn’t wanna break your back by stepping on a crack.”

  “But you don’t care if you break my back?”

  “I think you’d be broken already if it was a real thing. I think it’s like demons.”

  This was new. “What demons?”

  “Suzy said that demons come up from hell through the floor and get you when you sleep.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “But the floor is hard, how could they come through?” My daughter wanted to know.

  “It’s an excellent point.”

  “So things like that, I don’t think they’re real,” she said, putting the topic to bed.

  “I suspect you’re right.”

  “On Saturday after the movie, can we go to the aquarium?” Her mercurial mind flicked around even faster than mine.

  “Why?”

  “The dolphins,” she said flatly, like what else could it be.

  “We can ask everybody else, but I was thinking we’d go to the park.”

  “Oh, the park is better, never mind. You’re very smart.” She beamed up at me.

  “Thank you.”

  “Pa,” Kola said, obviously having tossed away his concern for my spinal column from the way he had reverted to his normal stride, “who will I marry when I get big?”

  “I dunno, it depends on who you fall in love with.”

  “But will it be a boy or a girl?”

  “I have no clue, love. Whoever you want.”

  He was thinking. “Do I have to go to college? Mica said that his dad said that he had to go to college.”

  “Yes, you have to go to college.”

  “Did Daddy go to college?”

  “No.”

  “Then how come I have to?”

  “If you want to do a job like your daddy, then you don’t have to, but if you want to be a veterinarian and take care of cats like Chilly, then—”

  “Yeah, I think I wanna do that.”

  “Then you have to go to college.”

  “Okay, then, I’ll go to college.”

  “Think scholarship.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll tell you later.”

  As we waited in line to check out, Hannah, who had gotten tired of walking, was sitting in the top of the cart, humming and swinging her legs. The man behind us chuckled.

  I looked at him over my shoulder. If I had to guess, I would have said he was in his midsixties, nice face, handsome man.

  He cleared his throat. “Is she humming ‘The Girl From Ipanema’?”

  “Yes,” I groaned. “Oh God, it’s my fault. I do it, and now whenever she’s bored… you get the idea.”

  “It’s darling.” He smiled at me.

  I winced. “Her teacher isn’t a fan.”

  He laughed. “I would expect not.”

  Hannah drew up her shoulders, tipped her head, and aimed all her cuteness at him, and between her little apple cheeks and tiny rosebud mouth and sparkling eyes, he was turned into goo.

  “She’s a doll.”

  “And she knows.”

  “You’re gonna need a gun to keep the boys away.”

  “We’ve got that covered,” I assured him.

  Outside in the parking lot, I was handing the light bag to Kola when we all heard crowing.

  “What was that?” Hannah asked me.

  “Roosters,” I told her as we walked, me carrying three reusable bags, Kola one. At the car, we heard it again.

  “Pa, it’s coming from there,” Kola said, pointing to a parked Ford pickup.

  “It’s not our business. Get in the car,” I ordered him, opening the door.

  “But what if they’re stuck?” Hannah looked up at me, her big brown eyes worried.

  “Fine, you two get in the car. I’ll see what it is.”

  With my kids safely ensconced in the car, I checked around and then leaned over into the bed of the pickup and lifted a tarp. There, underneath, were three large wire cages with roosters in them. I had never been a big bird lover; the wings fluttering in my face was just cause for hyperventilation. Clowns, birds, flying cockroaches—which got added to the list when I was in Hawaii—and wasps all gave me the shivers. I was not thrilled to find roosters but that they were there at all seemed odd to me. They looked like they had been trimmed weird; they didn’t look like the ones walking around the petting zoo.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  I turned and two men were walking toward me fast.

  “My kids heard the crowing, and we thought the birds were in trouble.”

  “Oh,” the first guy said, and suddenly I was looking at a badge that he pulled from under his T-shirt. The other man followed suit. I heard the window roll down beside me, and Hannah poked her head out.

  “Are the chickens okay, Pa?”

  “Yes, B,” I assured her.

  The policemen, Detectives Gonzales and Everman, explained to the kids as one leaned against the truck and the other on my minivan that they had taken the roosters from bad men who were going to fight them.

  “Why do they fight them?” Kola wanted to know.

  “People bet on which bird will win.”

  “How do they know who wins?” Kola was tenacious when it came to something he didn’t understand. “Is it like boxing and there’s points?”

  I had to remind myself to talk to Sam’s father about watching the fights with my kid.

  “No, they let them go at it until one of them dies.”

  “Dies?” Kola was horrified.

  Hannah, who was tired at that point, burst into tears.

  “Really?” I scowled at both detectives, even though Everman was the one who had said it.

  Gonzales elbowed his partner in the ribs, looking sheepish.

  “Sorry.”

  But I had to comfort my girl and had no time for them anymore.

  They left the parking lot first, and I noticed as I took a right out onto the street that we were following them.

  The Hummer that flew by me didn’t even blip on my radar until it slammed into the side of the pickup and forced it off the road. I was easily a hundred yards behind, but I quickly turned off my lights and pulled over to the side of the road.

  “Pa?”

  I hushed Kola and called 911 as the officers got out.

  There were three men in the Hummer, and they emerged from their vehicle shooting.

  “This is 911, what is your emergency?”

  “Two-one-one,” I said quickly, remembering the codes Sam had told me. “I have two officers in my sight.”

  Two-one-one: assault on an officer. The operator went from interested to concerned in seconds. She got my location and asked if I was in danger, and since I categorized danger as people shooting directly at me, I said no. Four cars passed on the other side of the road, then three more, and the bad guys must have gotten scared, because they were suddenly in a mad rush to get back in the car. It was over, and the Hummer—squealing tires, hauling ass—was coming back by me. I saw the plate, memorized it, told the kids to get down, and ducked myself. The car flew by, hopefully not noticing us in our Mercedes but certainly unable to get the plate at the speed they were going.

  I gave their plate number to the operator and told her I was driving over to check on the officers. She said I would have company in minutes, police and ambulance.

  Getting as close as I could with the van, I got o
ut and locked my kids in the car. I was still on the phone with the operator and went to get a close look at the officers. Everman was down, bleeding from his side. Gonzales was under the pickup, lying on his back, and he gasped out that he was hit in the leg and the shoulder.

  “Is Lou alive?”

  “Yes,” I told him. “Are you okay? Help is coming right now.”

  “Yeah, I’m okay, and thank you.”

  “Just hold on,” I soothed him as I moved back to his partner. I pulled off my coat and then my sweater and the T-shirt underneath. It was cold outside, but I needed to put pressure on the wound and there was no other option. Everman moaned when I pressed the wadded-up cotton to his side.

  “Who are you again?” he asked as I put my coat over him and put my balled-up sweater behind his head.

  “Do you know Sam Kage?”

  He coughed. “He’s a marshal, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah, I remember. He used to be a helluva homicide detective.”

  I nodded. “I’m married to him.”

  “Got it,” he said as we both heard the sirens in the distance. “I don’t suppose you got the license plate of the—”

  “I already called it in,” I said and put the phone to his ear.

  “Hey,” he groaned to the operator, “you have the plate?”

  He was talking to her as the ambulance and a fleet of police cars rolled up. I pointed under the truck, then quickly answered questions so the policemen could holster their guns and everyone could go about securing the scene instead of worrying that someone was going to start shooting at them.

  Kola and Hannah got to sit in a police car with a very nice young man who gave them the entire rundown of the car. I was standing outside the car, my sweater and topcoat back on, the T-shirt having been sacrificed to the greater good, and relating my statement to two new detectives. Gonzales and Everman were taken to the hospital in separate ambulances, and Chaz and Pat—who showed up somehow— were now standing with me as I was being questioned. The two new guys—there were too many new people in one night to keep track of them—promised that my name would not appear in the paper.

  “You should get a commendation, Mr. Harcourt.”

  But I didn’t want a citation for bravery or whatever. I did what anyone who had a mate in law enforcement would have.

  “His name can’t be leaked,” Chaz stressed, and he used his size, his status, his tenure, his record, all of it, just who he was, to intimidate the two younger detectives.

  “Ever,” Pat chimed in, and as scary as Chaz was, he was still mild in comparison to Patrick Cantwell.

  It was fast, the agreement from the junior detectives: they promised no press—none.

  I met Gonzales and Everman’s captain, Ibrahim Khouri, who looked crisp and polished even though, at ten at night, it was late for him to look so good. He thanked me for coming to the aid of his men and made sure to pass me his card. He was unsure as to why Chaz and Pat were there, and then they started explaining about what had occurred with me earlier in the day—leaving out Sam altogether.

  Khouri went with Chaz to talk to Kola.

  Turning, I saw Kola get out of the car and lay his little hand in the captain’s, who was kneeling in the dirt down in front of my little boy so they were at more or less the same level. I would have put money on the fact that Captain Khouri had kids himself.

  He nodded as Kola reenacted what had happened. Hannah’s face scrunched up as she listened to her brother, and after a minute, she flew across the grass to me.

  “You okay, B?” I asked as I picked her up.

  “I wanna go home to my house and my room and I want Daddy to come home.” She whimpered the last of it.

  “I know, B,” I soothed her, rubbing her back as her head clunked down on my shoulder. “He’ll be home soon. Maybe tonight we’ll all sleep in my room, huh?”

  She nodded against the side of my neck, and I asked the detective if we were done.

  He agreed that we were. He gave me his card and said he’d be in touch, and we were allowed to go home. The captain told me that he would be in touch with Chaz and Pat, and I thanked him before I got both my kids in the car to finally head home.

  “Lucky we didn’t buy any ice cream,” I told them.

  And suddenly things were better, normal, because they both thought the idea of a soupy mess in the back of the minivan was hysterical.

  THAT night as I lay between my two freshly showered little people, both in pajamas and both snuggled up against me, I tried Sam. It went to voice mail, and because I was never sure about how safe his phone was, I just texted a heart before I turned out the light.

  Chapter Ten

  I WAS not one of those “hit the ground running in the morning” people.

  I was probably a reincarnated vampire, truth be told. So it was not surprising that I was standing beside the coffeemaker, waiting for it to brew the precious elixir that would keep me vertical, when he walked through the door.

  I was stunned.

  I had not expected him for weeks. To find Sam Kage, rumpled and with three days’ growth of beard, scowling at me was a surprise.

  “What the hell is going on?” he roared at me.

  I lifted my eyebrows. “Hello to you too.”

  He growled, dropped his duffel, pulled off his peacoat, and flung it down onto the couch before striding forward.

  I moved around the island in the kitchen, which was counter on one side and a bar on the other. The open layout of the loft meant that one room flowed into the next, so I was thankful for the small barrier between us.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Why are you mad?”

  His eyes widened. “Why am I mad? I dunno… lemme think.”

  I crossed my arms, waiting.

  “Kola had his finger broken, you had to protect your children all alone from this psychopath, and you witnessed a hit on two policemen!”

  “The dinner party was really the worst part. Your boyfriend was there.” I shivered.

  He snarled low in the back of his throat and came at me.

  I would have run, but it was just too early in the morning. I turned instead, and he charged up to me, grabbed my arms tight, and shook me.

  “Why do you keep letting me go?”

  “Why do you keep going?” I asked back, knowing from the haunted, raw look in his eyes that I was seeing a man absolutely eaten up with guilt and worry and pain. He was sick that he had not been there for me or Kola or Hannah.

  “I always think if I want something done right, that I absolutely must do it myself.”

  “I know.” I smiled as my voice softened, and he let me go, his hands moving to my face, cupping it. “It’s okay.”

  A shuddering gasp went right through him before his jaw clenched.

  “You’re mad at yourself, not me.”

  He didn’t argue. He didn’t have to; I saw it.

  “Let it go,” I said, wrapping my hands around his wrists. “I’m delirious that you’re here.”

  He nodded, and when I lifted toward him, I heard the catch of breath.

  Still.

  After so many years, I still made the man breathless.

  It was a gift.

  He sealed his mouth over mine and wrapped me up in his arms, using all his power to press me against him, our bodies aligned, tongues tangled, our kiss intimate and languid. I belonged to him, and he could hold me for as long as he wanted.

  My arms twined around his neck as he lifted me off my feet, hands on my ass. I slid my legs up his thighs to his hips and tightened them. The whine in the back of my throat made him clutch at me, his big, rough hands digging into my skin as he began walking me out of the kitchen and down the hall.

  I really wanted to go home. In my house, early-morning sex was taken care of in the laundry room. I had lost count of the times I had been put over the washing machine.

  He broke the kiss, panting for breath as I took my own gulp of air befo
re recapturing his mouth. I sucked on his tongue as he staggered forward, carrying me, then stopped suddenly and shoved me hard into the wall.

  “Where are our children?” he asked, whispering against my ear, nibbling on the lobe.

  “Still… bed… early….” I trailed off, kissing up his throat to his chin and biting gently before trailing my mouth back down, sucking on his skin, moments away from leaving hickeys.

  A frustrated sound, first a growl and then a huff of breath before he levered off the wall and continued down the hall. “Where?”

  “First door,” I directed him. “Lock it when—”

  “Yes.”

  I smiled against his mouth. When we got there, he kicked the door closed behind him, and suddenly his movements were fast, mauling and forceful.

  After putting me on my feet, he pulled my T-shirt up over my head and off, then did the same to his, stretching back between his shoulder blades to grab it. I reached for him, gripping his chest, loving the feel of him.

  My deep groan of appreciation brought violent motion. The back of my neck was in his iron grip as he spun me around and pushed me forward, my cheek pressed to the cold, solid wood of the door.

  “Hands.”

  Immediately I put them over my head, palms flat. At the same time, I spread my legs.

  He knotted his hand tightly in my hair, and the message that I was not to move was clear. I stayed still as he left me, heard the rattle of the drawer in the nightstand behind me and the break of the plastic seal.

  We had been together so long, no matter where we were, where we stayed, things always found familiar places. He knew where to look for lube.

  He pulled the drawstring of my sleep shorts loose, tugged them down, and slid them over my hips and off. When I felt the warm breath on ass, my breath hitched because I knew what was coming. He bit me hard—he would leave an imprint of his teeth, but I didn’t care. The licking that followed, the sucking, was worth it.

  If we had not been apart, if this were normal morning need, my cheeks would have been spread and his tongue would have pushed inside my puckered hole. But I was being manhandled, would be pinned to the wall and hammered. I could barely wait.

  Every muscle in the man’s big hard, body was tensed and ready to surge into motion and take me. And I wanted it. I wanted Sam Kage to simply ravish me.