“That was fucked up. I’m on edge about Sandie, and I totally let that poor woman have it. Jesus, I’m surprised she didn’t try to have me killed before I got to the car.”
“We have a whole night ahead of us. Why don’t we head over to see the pawn shop dealer, Bentley? Let’s hear what he has to say about this new player in town. But you pull that shit again”—he points back in the direction we came from—“I’ll fucking kill you for her.”
I nod as I get back into the car. The rest of the night is a blur of us chasing a ghost. From one side of town to the other, all empty leads, all leading back to this new guy.
It’s a long night and when I get home, Sandie isn’t there, just a note saying she’ll call me tomorrow.
I shake my head, knowing once again I got played. But this time it’s the last fucking time.
Chapter Six
Mick
I’m just about to line up my winning shot when my phone rings. I lean the pool cue on the side of the pool table and pull my phone out. It’s been two weeks since shit went down with Sandie.
The day after she told me she was leaving her husband, I went into work and searched for her divorce case. Not surprisingly, nothing was filed.
The next thing I did was to call a locksmith and have my locks changed. Then I sent her a text.
You played me for the last time.
The minute I pressed send, I had my number changed. It didn’t stop her from showing up at my house the next day. But she wasn’t expecting to be stopped before her foot could even touch my step.
“What are you doing here?” I asked from my front door.
She wasn’t expecting me to do this scene in the front lawn, especially in the middle of the day.
“I think we need to talk, don’t you?” She looked around, seeing some of my neighbors outside, some looking over at us. “Privately.”
“Nope, I have nothing to say to you, in public or in private. Sandie, do me one last favor and get back in your car, and go home to your husband. Forget me, forget where I live, forget about my cock. Jesus, just please, leave me alone already and fucking move on.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
The tears welling in her eyes did nothing to me anymore. Kind of like the boy who cried wolf, I was at the point now where I didn’t give a shit. She was never going to pick me, not back then and not now.
“Baby—”
I held my hand up, stopping her from continuing. “Aren’t you fucking tired of this song and dance? I sure the fuck am. Just fucking hire someone to fuck you right if he doesn’t do it for you, because I’m done.”
Before she could even reply, I quickly turned and walked back inside, closing the door and locking it behind me.
It didn’t take long before I heard her car start and drive off, peeling down the street. Seven years we’d been doing this dance, and I was just done with it.
“Jackson,” I say into the phone, giving Thomas the one-second finger to step away to take the phone call.
“Got a call from Marissa. Said Lori called her again. I’m on my way to Manny’s Jug House.”
My hand clenches the phone hard. The thought of her stripping just pisses me off. I’ve been making up so many excuses in my head about why it pisses me off so much that I’m not even believing them.
“I’m on my way, leaving McHugh’s Brews & Cues. For the record, I think it’s a big waste of time.” Walking back to the table, I tell Thomas that I have to go and give him a quick update about the case.
I’m barely in my car when Jackson calls me back asking for my ETA because he’s already there. He must have gunned it.
I get to the club just in time to see Marissa run straight into Jackson’s arms. I’ve never once had a violent thought about my partner, but right then and there, I want to kick his ass.
“She’s hurt, my baby is hurt. I can tell. I heard it in her voice,” Marissa says before she starts sobbing.
I get out of my car and approach them, taking in Marissa’s ‘work’ attire. She’s wearing a micro-miniskirt, and I’m using the word ‘skirt’ loosely, seeing as it barely covers her ass cheeks. Her tube top is white and practically see-through. I can see that she has little star stickers on her nipples. Her ‘uniform’ is completed by a pair of sparkly, six-inch, platform, clear acrylic heels.
I take off my jacket and toss it to her. “Jesus, cover yourself up. You’re almost naked.” I then look around to see if anyone is leering at her.
I’m so fucking agitated by this whole scene that I don’t even wait for Jackson to ask the questions. I have no idea what is going on with me, why I’m so angry with this woman. “So what happened now, Marissa, that you couldn’t wait till tomorrow before calling us?”
“Lori…she, she called again. She called my cell.” She hands me her cell phone, which I take and start looking through it.
“Unknown number. We can’t do anything.” I hand it back to her.
“She said she wants to come home. She just can’t get here.” She looks back and forth between us with panicked, teary eyes. “I have to get her home.” The tears start to run down her face, taking her mascara with them. “Help me find her.”
“Did she tell you anything? Where she was? Who she was with?” Jackson asks her as she is rapidly shaking her head.
“Nothing. The call lasted maybe twenty seconds, but I asked her. I told her to tell me where she was and I’d come get her. She just kept saying she wants to come home.” She wraps her arms around her waist as her body starts to shake.
Jackson leans in, taking her in his arms just as she starts to fall to the ground.
“How did you get to work? Did you drive?” he asks her right before a skinny black man approaches us.
“I don’t pay you to come outside and turn tricks. I pay you to shake your ass and show off your tits. Now get back in there and do what I pay you for.” He looks back and forth between us. It’s the last fucking thing I need to hear before I snap.
I go toe to toe with him. He may be the same height as me, but I have a good sixty pounds of muscle on him.
“I would watch your fucking tone, man. Can’t you see the lady is crying? Instead of making sure we aren’t forcing ourselves on her, you tell her to get back to work. Disgusting.”
“Ain’t no one need to force her to do anything, she does that shit for free.”
The minute he says that, my fist flies faster than a lightning bolt, popping him right in the jaw. The man is knocked to the ground, but I pick him up by his collar and get right in his face. “Talk to her like that again, I’ll have you eating through a fucking straw for a month,” I growl out menacingly as he pushes me away.
Jackson grabs my arm before I can do anything more.
“Marissa, you get your ass back in there now or you look for something else.”
“She fucking quits, asshole,” I say as I turn to her. “Go get your shit. Now.”
Marissa is either still in shock or just scared of the rage that I’m sure is shining in my eyes, but she nods and hurries inside.
“We are giving her five minutes. If she is not back, then you go in and get her,” I tell Jackson while I shake my fist, which is starting to swell. Just great. I need a fucking ice pack.
“Mind telling me what the fuck is going on there, partner? You talk to her like she’s trash one minute, and then you step up like a knight in shining armor the next.” His question is a valid one, but I can’t admit something I myself don’t even understand.
Before he has a chance to press me more, Marissa comes out dressed in jeans and a shirt. A huge bag of clothes is in her hands.
“I have no idea how I’ll pay my next month’s rent, but I guess I’m done with this shithole,” she says quietly. Her face is cleaned of the black streaks that were running down her cheeks, and she looks much younger without all that makeup on. Almost angelic.
“Did you see anyone out of the ordinary come in tonight?” Jackson asks her.
“No one. It was
really slow which is why I had my phone on me. The minute I felt it ring, I jumped.” The tears start to fill her eyes again. “I need to find her.”
“We are doing everything we can right now. If she calls you back, you tell her to tell you anything. Preferably where she is, but if she doesn’t know then ask what she sees, what she saw on her way there, anything that can lead us to her.”
“I’ll take you home, see if maybe there is anything there you might have missed,” I cut in before Jackson makes the suggestion.
“I have my own car. I don’t want to come back here,” she says to me while handing me my coat back.
“Fine, I’ll follow you. Jackson, I’ll send you a message if I find anything or if Lori calls again.”
He has nothing to say to me, just nods his head in agreement, but I see the questions in his eyes, and I know I’m going to have to call him the minute I’m done.
I wait in my car right across from Marissa as she gets into hers, and I follow closely behind her as she drives home.
She parks, and I pull in right behind her, killing the engine and getting out of my car just in time to grab her bag from her.
“You don’t need to babysit me. I’ll be fine,” she tells me while trying to snatch her bag out of my hand.
“I’ll carry it up, make sure you’re safe.” I walk ahead of her to the door, holding it open for her. “After you.”
Now normally a woman would say thank you for the gesture, but not Marissa. She shoots me such an angry glare that a lesser man’s balls may have shrunk up in response. Me? I bite back a chuckle because she’s fucking adorable.
I do smile, though, knowing that she won’t take any bullshit from anyone else.
She leads the way up the steps with me following behind her, my eyes glued to her ass. Images of my hands on her ass flash in my head, causing my cock to wake up.
She stops in front of her door and unlocks it, then turns around to grab her bag, obviously intending not to let me into her apartment.
“Thanks for following me home, but I’m fine now,” she says while trying to wrestle the bag out of my hand, but I’m not letting it go.
“Marissa, let me come in and put this down. Maybe make you a drink to settle your nerves.”
“Why?” She looks me straight in the eyes as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Why the sudden desire to make sure I’m safe? The last time you were here, you threw my job in my face and asked if my kid took my drugs. So tell me, Detective, why the sudden change?”
I like the fact that she didn’t let the last time slip, but I’m also pissed at myself for being such an asshole. I have to say, I’m really liking that she’s so direct. With Marissa, what you see is what you get, there is no bullshit with her, and it’s fucking refreshing.
“I’m sorry about last time, okay? I was an asshole, and you did not deserve that shit I served up. The whole situation…it just hit a little close to home. That’s it, I swear.” I move closer, our bodies almost touching. I can practically feel the heat coming off her. “Let me come in and make sure you’re okay, Marissa.”
She sighs heavily, nods her head, and pushes the door open.
I walk in after her and wait as she turns on all the lights. I place the bag of clothes down on the couch and sit next to it.
“Did you eat?” I ask her as she pulls a bottle of water out of the fridge and opens it, making her stop midway.
“Okay, that’s it. I’ve had enough crap happen to me today. I need some normalcy here, and right now my only option is for you to go back to being an asshole.”
The way she just called me out again makes me snicker to myself. “Fine, I’m out of here, but”—I take her phone off the counter, calling myself so I have her number—“if you need anything, give me a call.” I emphasize me, hoping that I’ll be the one she calls, not Jackson, if something comes up.
Placing her phone back down on the counter, I salute her with two fingers as I walk out of her apartment.
Once I’m in the hall, I hear the lock click shut. It brings me out of my head. I have no idea what the fuck just happened. I have no idea why I would even bother to do that.
I feel this inexplicable pull to her, and I have no idea why or what it means. I know that she doesn’t need—nor want—me. I don’t know, maybe that’s the draw. Maybe I’m just predisposed to want women who don’t want me. God, I’m so fucked up.
Making my way to my car, I do something I suspect I will regret tomorrow.
Chapter Seven
Mick
I wasn’t wrong when I said that phone call would have made me hate myself. The minute I sat in the car looking down at the phone, the number of a girl I used to hook up with just waited for me to push the call icon. I came really fucking close. Instead, Marissa and that pull to her I don’t understand made me throw my car into drive and head to my usual watering hole where I sat my ass down and drank until I couldn’t feel anything, let alone that pull to Marissa, anymore.
I don’t remember anything after my first round at the bar. The night before I got there, though, plays in my mind like a movie reel on a continuous loop. Marissa’s face when she almost collapsed, her face when I tried to help, and her eyes, those tear-filled eyes, brimming with her fear, sadness, and worry for her missing daughter. I remember feeling helpless, like there was absolutely nothing that I could have done to make any of it better for her. Nothing, and I think that’s what killed me the most. All I could say was ‘I’m so sorry’ over and over.
By the time morning rolls around, I have a headache that could rival the pounding of ten lumberjacks hammering away in my head. My mouth is drier than the scorched earth of Death Valley but God dammit, my bed is empty and I’m alone, so I’m still counting last night as a victory.
After taking a shower and drinking four cups of strong, black coffee, I get dressed to head out to Phyllis’s Diner.
I park and head inside, not taking off my sunglasses. The sun is just too bright for my bleary eyes and aching head today.
The jingle of the bells as I open the door takes me right back to when I first met Phyllis.
She was our next-door neighbor. Even though she hated my mom, she looked out for me on the nights mom went to work.
I spent more time with Phyllis than I did with my mom, and soon I was always at her house. She was more like a grandmother to me.
I clear my throat, and she whirls around to face me. The ever-present scowl on her face morphs into a megawatt smile when she sees me.
“Look at my boy, coming to visit me,” she says to everyone within earshot as she places a pie in the glass stand on the counter.
The diner is fifties inspired and serves comfort food, all made from scratch from Phyllis’s own recipes. She also gave me my first job—bussing tables—when I was eleven. “It’ll keep you out of trouble, boy,” is what she said, not really giving me a choice, and I took it because not only did she pay me, but she also fed me like a king.
Walking behind the counter, I lean down and give her a loud, smacking kiss on her cheek. She giggles and then pushes me away. “You look like shit.” There she is, my Phyllis never sugarcoating anything.
“Awww, thanks, you look like shit yourself.” I give it right back to her.
She scowls at me again, right before she lets a deep belly laugh loose. “Sit down. I’ll get you coffee.”
She gets me a steaming cup of coffee, sliding it in front of me with a big piece of homemade apple pie. She’s won numerous blue ribbons for this pie.
“So, what brings you here?” She leans on her hands on the counter.
I fork into the pie, chewing it before I tell her why I’m really here. “Need a favor.” I don’t take off my glasses nor do I look at her for fear that she’ll see right through me.
“Oh, yeah? Since when does Mick Moro ask for favors?” Her question doesn’t surprise me. She knows I don’t ask anyone for anything.
“There’s a first time for everything, right?” I drop my f
ork and take a sip of the hot coffee.
“What do you need?” She stands up, removing the plate from in front of me.
“Have a friend. She needs a job, bad. You have anything open?” I finally look up at her, my chest not moving because I’m holding my breath.
“You actually have friends?” She smiles at me, and I know that she is going to help me out. That is the way she is. That’s Phyllis.
“She worked at Manny’s Jug House. Her daughter ran away from home, and let’s just say she can’t go back there.” I take another sip of the coffee before I say more than I want to.
“Oh my goodness! That poor thing! She can have any shift she wants. Money is good during the week in the mornings and at lunch. Breakfast and dinner on the weekends. You think she would have problems with that?”
I have to think about how she’s going to be pissed at me for stepping on her toes, but in all honesty, I’m the reason she lost her job. I nod my head at Phyllis before taking my phone out of my pocket to text her.
Hey, are you there? It’s Mick.
My phone dings a second later, and I know she’s stuck to her phone, hoping that Lori calls her again.
What can I do for you, Mick?
I can practically see her eyes roll and hear her attitude through the phone.
You think you could come down to Phyllis’s Diner in about twenty?
HMMM let me check my calendar. Oh, that’s right, I have no job, so my calendar is wide-open. Leaving now. I’ll be there in ten. Order me a piece of pie, and keep the tab open so you can pay for it.
I laugh at her bossiness, throwing the phone down on the counter, and look over at Phyllis. “She’s on her way. I should probably warn you she would rather drink acid than accept my help.”
Phyllis raises her eyebrows questioningly.
“She pretty much hates me.”
Phyllis crosses her arms over her chest. “Nothing new there, boy. Give it some time, she’ll come around. They all do.”
Pieces Of Heaven: Pieces Of Heaven (Heaven & Hell Book 2) Page 3
