All This Time

by Marie Wathen

  Facing Natalie will not be easy. She lost her soul mate, a good father to her children and, as it turns out, an upstanding citizen in the community. Wise will be honored with a traditional law enforcement burial that will include twenty-four hour honor guard remaining at his casket until he is returned to the earth. Watching her little children say goodbye to their daddy will surely be the most heartbreaking scene I’ve ever witnessed.

  I switch off the television and using my cell I call the cab company and the airport, booking my flight out of town. First, I’ll make a quick stop by my house. I need something appropriate to wear for saying goodbye to a fellow officer.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  The drizzling rain on this cold January day emphasizes the sorrow of the mood. I step out of the taxi with my small travel bag and cinch the wide belt around my black trench coat before lifting the umbrella over me. The century-old Catholic Church, ten miles north of Baltimore located in Mt Washington, with its dark stones covered by dark, thick moss gives off an ominous vibe as I approach and climb the front steps. My throat begins closing when I spot the hundreds of uniformed officers standing guard, preparing for retaliation from the X’kapz, and simply milling around in the entrance way. Everyone is speaking softly and looking reflective as well as sad.

  Dressing in all black and wearing a small veiled hat allows me to blend in with the other mourners. I can only pray that no one recognizes me, blowing my cover to kingdom come. I’m not worried that anyone from the crew will show their faces at a police officer’s funeral, but Natalie or her little ones may spot me. Inside the large cathedral I slip around the perimeter and settle into a pew at the back of the room away from prying eyes. Within a few minutes the soft music grows louder and everyone takes a seat further cloaking me.

  The priest opens the service with the Lord’s Prayer. It’s at this time, with my head tilted down, that my silent tears slip over my cheeks and drip off my chin. With my lacy handkerchief I dab them away, but all too soon the voices of Jude’s friends and family begin honoring his memory and telling stories of his life. I can’t hold back another second, I am overwrought with grief. Keeping my head down my shoulders begin to shake from the muted sobbing that I’m barely containing. Alone, I sit and pray while the religious service moves along and proceeds toward the more formal police officer service.

  Barely aware of my surroundings, I feel a slight movement along the edge of the railing behind me followed by a soft hand draping on my shoulder. Astonished by the comfort this kind gesture brings, my tears come faster and my breathing becomes ragged. The warm hand moves down my arm and grips before pulling me sideways. My face is drawn against a hard shoulder and another hand tenderly holds my other cheek while a soft thumb caresses it. A whispered shushing sound floats along the tip of my ear followed by lips pressing into my hairline. The compassionate embrace quickly becomes a soothing balm to my heartbreak.

  Slowly, I dab away the wetness left behind from my crying. Suddenly the awkwardness of knowing a stranger is holding me snaps me out of my sorrow and I begin to pull away.

  “Thank you,” I sniff lifting my eyes up and seeing the person who’s comforting me.

  The hand on my cheek slides down to my neck and under my chin tilting my head back before he says, “I’m here. Let me help you.”

  My heart trips a few beats before realization sinks into my mind. I reach up clasping my hand around the hand that is affectionately pushing the hair away from my face and try to draw it away. “No,” I whisper with absolutely no conviction in my voice.

  He draws me against his chest and holds me tighter, “I’m not letting you go again, Doll.” Blues holds me this way through the remainder of the service and I let him. Being in his arms feels like the most natural thing and even though I don’t want it Blues comforts me more in this demanding embrace than anyone ever has before. How can he show his face here? Doesn’t he care that this family wouldn’t want him or anyone from the damn gang that is directly responsible for killing Wise at his funeral?

  Thirty minutes later I along with the other couple of hundred guests follow the family out of the chapel. I watch Natalie being escorted toward a blacked out limousine. A large man who looks like he could be Wise’s identical twin carries Simone while Dean shuffles his feet behind them. My heart squeezes in agony for this sweet little family. A strange feeling crushes over me as the tears slip down my face. I will never see them again. They will mostly likely stay here in Baltimore with their families. Part of me is happy about them being away from Georgia, leaving behind all the bullshit and finding a way to live without him. Before ducking into the backseat Natalie’s head lifts up, facing toward the church, but she doesn’t acknowledge me. With all of the people congregating outside the doors she wouldn’t be able to pick me out of this large crowd. From the top step I watch as six large men silently load Wise’s casket into the hearse taking him to his final resting place. Rest easy brother, we’ll take it from here. A sob escapes passed my lips and I suck in a ragged breath.

  Blues never leaves my side. He keeps me tucked under one arm while holding an umbrella over us. “Do you want to go to the graveside service?” he asks looking down at me.

  I look back at the long line of cars falling in the procession and pulling away before I shake my head, “No.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “I,” my voice catches, “I was getting a motel after the service.”

  Pulling my attention away from the single line of vehicles and tipping my chin upward, he insists, “No, Love, you’re staying with me.” The determination set in his eyes tells me that he refuses to let me argue. My shoulders sag in defeat and I nod agreeably.

  He escorts me out to a black limousine and instructs the driver to take us to his hotel. After sliding in he draws me into his lap, pressing my head against his chest. He keeps one hand clutched tightly around my back while the other strokes over my hip. We don’t speak during the ride to the hotel. Lacing our fingers together, he then takes my bag, and guides me through the lobby and up the elevator. We enter the grand accommodations of the Presidential suite and he walks me back to the large master bedroom where he places my bag at the foot of the bed. Then taking extra care with my arm, he removes my wet trench coat.

  Blues lifts his hands to my face, placing warm palms against the sides of my head before pressing his lips to my forehead. He wraps his arms around my shoulders holding me tightly against him. I bury my face into his chest breathing in his warmth and then slide my hands under his suit coat snaking them around his waist.

  “I was so scared,” he starts so softly that I almost didn’t hear him. “When I came out of the bedroom and couldn’t find you in my apartment…,” he whispers over my head while squeezing me harder. “Don’t….” his voice thick with emotion cracks, “Please don’t do that again.” I nod my head against his chest and he sighs heavily. Why am I making this promise to him? Why does it sound like he really cares for me?

  He loosens his grip around me, sliding a hand down my arm and intertwining our hands, “The bathroom is behind you,” he points, “I’ll wait in the living room while you change.” I stare into the depths of his heavenly blue eyes and begin to feel like I could easily get lost in them. My heart leaps seeing some strong emotion veil over them moments before he lowers his lips to mine. He brushes against them softly before placing a sweet kiss on the corner. “Get changed,” he mumbles with his lips lingering on mine.

  After he walks out of the room, I glance down at my bag tilted on its side at my feet. I know that I have a choice and the logical part hurting the most warns me to leave, but there is another part of me that desperately wants to be here with him. I change out of my black dress and slip into a fitted yellow tee-shirt and soft white shorts. Besides a couple more tees, some blue jeans and a pair of cargo pants these are the only comfortable clothes that I packed.

  Walking into the large open living room, I see Blues standing by the glass wall overlooking th
e river below. His reflection reveals a stone mask while his fists clutch tightly against his thighs, but his posture is completely defeated with his shoulders slouching. He spots my reflection and turns around. Tentatively, I cross the space between us stopping a few feet away.

  “I ordered some lunch,” he tells me running a hand through his hair while his eyes slowly take in my appearance. “I hope you’re hungry.” He smirks uncomfortably when his gaze finally connects with mine.

  “Blues,” I take a small step forward, gliding my hand over the back of the sofa angled perpendicular in the center of the room. “I want to thank you again…for earlier.” His eyebrows pinch together and he drops his hand to his side, fisting them again. Unable to read his expression and body language, I shift around and prop my backside against the sofa, trying to relax so that maybe he’ll relax too. “What happened really, um,” I tuck my arms around my stomach tightly, “it was fucked up…and I needed to get away…”

  “Where did you go?” he asks urgently, and I glance over at him, “Because I looked for you at Decks’. He came home yesterday and said he hadn’t seen or talked with you.” He continues to stare, watching me closely–almost too closely.

  Pulling my attention away from him, I focus on the large bowl of limes sitting on the table in the dining area. Going back to my training, the words of my superior echoes in my mind, Lie if you must, but if the truth can save your ass, go with that. “I wasn’t ready to go back to Decks’ place so I rented a cheap motel.” He stays silent and I feel compelled to continue with my explanation. “I just needed to deal with it all…on my own.”

  He steps away from the window, crosses the room and walks into the kitchen. I watch him stop and lean his hip against the counter staying there with his back to me for several minutes. He folds his arms over his chest appearing tense all over. I don’t understand what’s going on with him and the silent treatment begins to make me feel uncomfortable. He could be testing me, gauging my reactions to root out more undercover cops. Three rapid knocks on the door breaks the building tension in the quiet room. Without looking at me, Blues spins around and opens the door for the courier to bring in our food.

  “Come on. We’ll talk later,” he glances back at me before walking toward the dining table.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  During lunch the weather turns worse. The early afternoon sky is darker and releasing heavy rain. The silence between us is palpable and Blues doesn’t make eye contact with me once while we’re eating. After we finish lunch, he starts a fire that instantly knocks the chill out the air. Still sitting in the dining room, I watch as he leaves the room only to return a few moments later carrying a thick blanket. Placing it on the sofa as he passes it, he continues walking toward me and then stretches out a hand. I glance from it up to his eyes. They are sad, but I see something else lying in the swirling sapphire that I can’t understand. Blues look vulnerable, but that can’t be right. He’s too vile for that emotion. I accept his hand and he leads us over to the sofa. Sitting down, he reaches back for the blanket and unfolds it.

  “Sit with me,” he requests stretching the cover over his legs. I do as he asks, but keep a safe distance between us. Being so close to him will fuck with my reserve and if I’m going to get through the next twenty-four hours I need to keep my head clear. “I won’t bite,” he smiles but his eyes are still sad.

  “I don’t believe you,” I proclaim pulling on the edge of the blanket to cover myself. He shrugs and his smile grows wickedly.

  “You’re smart not to.”

  “What’s going on, Blues?” I ask clearly unable to process what’s happening between us in addition to all the hell that is going on outside of this hotel room. His smile drops instantly and he turns away from me. “Why are you doing this?”

  He crosses his arms defensively but his shoulders droop in defeat, “I hate what happened,” his voice cracks slightly, “just as much as you do. Senseless killing makes me sick.” He turns his head my way again, but doesn’t look at me. Instead he focuses on the hallway behind me. “I think of Wise as a friend too Doll and I grieve with Natalie over the loss of a good man.”

  “Did you know he was a cop?” I ask softly, completely curious since he once told me that cops weren’t an issue for him. Without looking at me, he shakes his head, and it doesn’t feel like the truth. Once he practically confessed to having cops on his payroll. The overwhelming desire to release my inner detective is strong, but this isn’t the time or place for it so I bite down hard on my lip to suppress it.

  After a few more silent moments, he slides his eyes to meet mine, “Could I ask you a question off the subject?” Still biting my lip, I nod yes. “What did Decks tell you about his recent business out of town?”

  “Nothing,” I lie, “He wouldn’t tell me anything about his business,” He nods, but looks at me like he knows I’m lying or maybe it’s my conscience telling me to trust him. I don’t trust anyone.

  “Angel, do you know what’s caused his recent change in behavior?” I sigh and nod my head. He scoots close to me, draping an arm behind me and turning my face toward him. “I need to know.” His eyes are serious but not angry.

  “He’s using,” I say meekly still staring into his eyes. “He got really sick one night and told me that he was experimenting with Ryske.”

  Holding my gaze, he nods. “That could be it.” He opens his mouth to say something else, but shuts it again quickly.

  “I think it may be making him rage too,” I offer before I realize what I’ve done.

  “What do you mean?” his eyebrows draw in tightly creating deep crevasses. Something deep inside me desperately wants to reach up and soothe the lines away, but I keep my hands lying on my lap. “Has he hurt you?” His body vibrates with anger now.

  “No,” I shake my head. “I don’t think he would hurt me.” I tell him, but the pulsing blue vein in his forehead tells me that he isn’t satisfied so I add, “I think, maybe it just irrational and misplaced jealousy more than anything.”

  “How many times has he lost his temper with you?”

  “Not many.”

  From the look in his eyes, he isn’t buying my fib, “Angel, tell me how many.”

  “It really isn’t that big of a deal, Blues.”

  “Let me decide that,” he slips a hand over mine offering more tenderness still expecting me to answer him, but I don’t want his comfort and rage begins to build in me.

  “No,” I snap and then growl, “What happens between me and Decks is none of your business.”

  He releases my hand and tosses the blanket off standing quickly. He crosses the few feet over to the fireplace, slamming a hand against the rock mantle. I hear a low growl before he cusses, “Fuck.”

  After a few moments of staring into the flames, he spins around and paces back over. Dropping down onto his knees, he reaches up, placing both hands on either side of my face, and crushes my lips to his in a furious kiss. I gasp and hear a deep satisfied rumble in his chest. He pushes against me, pressing me into the back of the sofa. My fingers sink into his soft locks while my body arches into his, like coming home, as he shifts me to lie down, and I whimper in the jagged pleasure of his assault.

  “Let me love you,” he murmurs against my neck, placing hot kisses up my throat and across my jaw line. Hearing that word causes my heart to seize with fear. Love? That isn’t a possibility.

  With that thought my body stiffens in his arms and I drop my hands, “I…” the words to make him stop lodge in my throat, “Blues, I…” he moves his mouth to capture my protest. I remain impassive holding out for him to stop kissing, but he doesn’t. His lips move harshly against mine while his hands grip into my hips painfully. He nudges my thighs apart with his knee and moves his body between them.

  Pressing his hard-on into my center, Blues groans, “Tell me to stop now and I will, but I will hate it. I will fucking hate it because I need you so much, Angel and I want to love you tonight.” His words sound like a
plea of a dying man begging for me to be his last request in his final moments. Taking my hands in his, being extra careful of my injured hand, he interlaces our fingers and lifts my arms above my head, confining me in place. He settles over me bringing his face close to mine and staring deeply into my eyes. “Baby, let me love you,” he says with hopeful eyes never leaving mine. That damn squeezing pain in my chest, a déjà vu feeling from the first night we were together, burst forth with something I am unfamiliar with. Tonight I don’t need Blues, I want him and I want him to love me.

  “Yes, Blues,” I sob softly staring into his eyes while blinking back tears. “Love me.”

  His kiss is feather light across the swell of my cheek moving down to my ear. My body and heart are in agreement that this man is my other half and finding him restores the gaping hole I feel without him. Unfortunately I also know that this is going to hurt like hell. He raises up again, drops his mouth to mine and I open my eyes to see him looking so lovingly at me.

  One last night. A deal is made in the depths of my soul. When this night is over so are we, but for tonight I will love Blues.

  He guides my legs around his waist, slides his arms behind me and wraps me in a tight embrace. “Hold onto me tightly, Doll,” he growls lifting our bodies off the sofa. I wrap my arms around his neck and he pulls me up with him as he stands. Kissing me madly he stumbles down the hallway toward the bedroom. He carries me over to the bed, but hesitates laying me down. Still looking deeply into my eyes he pulls away from my lips and drops his face into the crook of my neck. I squeeze him closer needing more. He inhales deeply before lowering me onto the bed. I untangle my legs from around his body and he pauses towering over me.