by K. Webster
“Cool your shit, asshole. I want to make sure this ends today,” Oculus snaps back. “Once I give you the two kilos for a fucking steal of sixty G’s, I need your word you won’t start this shit again. Although I’m not sure I can trust you. I asked you to come alone and you brought that asshole with you.” He points to Lopez, the man who he has no idea is an undercover cop.
“Insurance. I had to make sure you didn’t just fucking kill me right on the spot. Now here’s your money. Give me my drugs and we’ll be done here,” Blaze orders, heaving a backpack onto the desk.
Big mistake. Oculus hates to be ordered around.
I feel like I’m missing something, and as soon as Oculus briefly flicks his gaze in CJ’s direction, I realize the shit is about to hit the fan. Quick as lightning, CJ cracks Lopez over the top of the head with his gun and he drops like a sack of potatoes. Maya jerks her head to me with eyes wide. Her hand slightly moves to her waist, where I know she probably has her gun tucked in. I try to convey to her with my eyes not to do it.
CJ storms over to the desk, and I know he’s about to kill Blaze. It surprises me, though, when he points his gun at Oculus. Maya and I are frozen in shock.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Oculus hisses at CJ.
“Stupid old man. Things are changing. When the other team comes to you with a better offer than third-in-command, you take it. Who do you think’s been funneling drugs to my man Blaze here?” CJ laughs without humor. “My girl Tameka and I were doing just fine until that bitch over there fucked that up too.”
No fucking way.
“You traitorous bastard!” Oculus screams and stands from his desk.
Maya and I don’t move from our spots. Oculus’s minion flinches from beside her. He makes me nervous as fuck since now I don’t know what the fuck is going on.
“Talk time is over,” CJ mutters and raises his gun to Oculus’s face.
Oculus’s minion yanks out his gun and fires at CJ, hitting him in the throat. Blood sprays the wall behind him and he goes down in a heap. I’m already tackling Blaze in his chair when another shot rings out.
My head snaps in the direction of the sound and I see that stupid asshole fighting Maya for her gun. Another shot squeezes out of her gun and hits the ceiling. I abandon Blaze to yank that asshole off of her.
Another shot deafens us and I see that Oculus has shot Blaze in the head. I manage to get the stupid minion fuck in a headlock and choke off his air supply until he passes out and crumples to the floor. When I look up, Oculus and Maya have their weapons trained on one another.
“What’s your angle, little girl?” Oculus demands.
I can’t breathe and my heart stops. I’m afraid to move in fear he’ll kill her on the spot.
“You killed my father. Leroy Lopez. Seventeen years ago,” she sobs out. Her arms are shaking as she confronts the man who ruined her life at nine years old.
My heart is breaking for her. I’m also scared as shit that he’s about to blow her away. She’s not thinking clearly, and with the way her arms shake, there’s no way she’d get a good shot off at him. This is so bad.
“I can’t remember everyone I kill, but now that I think of it, I remember that asshole. Sucker thought he could steal from me and get away with it. I enjoyed taking his life. Now, I get the pleasure of taking yours.”
I’m frozen as everything happens in a blur before my eyes. A shot. One single shot and my girl falls to the floor. I’m snapped from my daze and scream.
“Noooooooooooooooo!”
“Pac, she was a traitor—” he starts, but I’m already yanking my gun from my pants.
“You were like a father to me,” I tell him bitterly before squeezing off all of the rounds in my gun.
He collapses to the floor and my eyes follow him to where he lies.
I killed him.
I fucking killed a man—a man I saw as a father figure.
And he deserved it.
I fall to my knees beside my girl as tears blur my vision. Blood pools quickly around her and I don’t know how to stop it.
“No, Maya! Please, this can’t be happening!”
She’s been shot in the stomach and blood is bubbling out of the hole. I rip off my shirt and press it against her wound. Her blood quickly soaks my shirt. Motherfucker! This can’t be good.
“Baby girl, he’s dead. Stay with me, dammit!”
Her eyes peek open. “Ben,” she rasps out.
“Don’t talk. Just stay with me. I love you, Maya. It doesn’t matter that you’re a cop. I don’t care. Just don’t fucking die on me!”
A single tear rolls out of her eye. “I’m so sorry.”
I’m startled when I hear a groan from behind me. “What the fuck! Maya!” the voice booms out. Lopez.
“She’s bleeding out. Call for help, Miguel!” I order.
He scrambles over to her and takes her hand in his. “Maya, don’t die on me!”
In any other circumstance, I would hate that this fucker was touching her, but not now. Now, all I can think about is keeping her alive.
He yanks out his phone and calls someone. “Get in here now, boys. Officer down. Simpson has been shot. Send an ambulance!”
Still pressing the shirt to her belly, I lean in and brush my lips against hers. “I love you. Please stay with me,” I beg in a whisper against her mouth.
Her eyes once again crack open. “I—love—you,” she chokes out. Her voice—it sounds bad. So fucking bad.
“Don’t talk, baby girl. Just lie there and stay strong. Help is on the way.”
Another tear falls out as she closes her eyes.
“You did this to her!” Miguel growls at me.
I lift my head and glare at him. “Me? You fucking sent her in here alone—right into the den of one of the most dangerous motherfuckers in this city! You did this to her! Not me! I fucking love her and would die to protect her. You’re her fucking partner and best friend. You were supposed to protect her too!”
He has the sense to look shamefully away. His hand slides to her neck and I want to jerk it away.
“Her pulse is there but very faint.”
I want to throw up. Dipping down to her face, I nuzzle her nose. “Please don’t fucking die on me. I’ll go to prison forever if that meant you would live.”
She doesn’t respond, and I don’t think she’s breathing.
No.
Please, God, no.
“Maya! Wake up!” I scream in an effort to startle her awake.
She remains motionless and I begin to sob uncontrollably.
The stupid minion rustles awake from behind me, and as he fumbles for his gun, Miguel abandons his post beside Maya and charges for him. They scuffle behind me, but all I care about is helping her. She’s definitely not breathing now.
Keeping my hand pressed against her wound, I tilt her head back and attempt to perform CPR the best one can do with one hand. Thankfully, seconds later, Miguel is back and takes over holding her wound while I try to breathe life back into my Maya.
This goes on for what could be seconds or minutes, I’m not sure. All I know is I keep repeating my motions. Breathing into her. Then pumping her chest. Breathing into her. Then pumping her chest again.
I’m intent on trying to make her breathe when the door bursts open and commotion fills the room. Someone pulls me away from her and I go fucking nuts.
Swinging in an attempt to get away from the motherfucker trying to stop me from keeping my girl alive, I connect my elbow with someone’s face. I momentarily break free and fall back to her only to be yanked away again.
“Let me go!” I roar as I struggle to get free.
Cuffs are on my wrists in an instant and I’m powerless to help her. My Maya will fucking die because of this person.
Fortunately, I see two EMTs rush over to her. I’m being read my rights, but I ignore them. I can’t tear my attention from her. The men are scrambling to save her and I blink hard, trying desperately to stop my tear
s so I can look at her one last time.
“No pulse,” one of them says urgently.
My eyes fly back open. This can’t happen. I can’t fucking lose her!
It isn’t until I’ve been dragged away and stuffed into a squad car outside that I realize my life is over. Maya is dead and I’m going to prison. They should just fucking kill me too. My gaze drops to my chest and I stare in shock at her blood all over my bare chest. Her blood is all over me—on my hands—as it should be. I’m responsible for her death.
When I look out the window and see the stupid fucker who had his hands all over her the day she was “arrested” holding a bloody tissue to his nose, I take joy in a small bit of justice, knowing that he was the one I clocked with my elbow. Maya would have been proud. The thought of her seizes my heart and I close my eyes. My sweet, sexy girl is gone.
After what could be minutes or hours since I watched the EMTs drive off with Maya’s body tucked in the back, an older officer climbs into the driver’s seat. When he looks back at me, I expect him to be angry that one of his own has fallen, but he looks at me with sympathetic eyes. Once again, the tears spill out on their own fucking free will.
“You loved her,” he says sadly, still studying me. His eyes roam my bloody chest, and the sight of her blood causes him to tear up.
“More than life itself.”
He nods and turns back around, leaving me to think about the girl who stole my heart and now my life.
“You have a visitor,” the officer grumbles as he leads up Detective Lopez to the cell I’m being held in.
When the officer walks away, leaving us alone, Lopez grabs the bars and puts his face between them. I make eye contact with him momentarily and then pull my gaze back down to my blood-stained hands. They allowed me to wash the blood away yesterday, but I can still see it under my nails.
“Benjamin?”
I don’t look up. “Yeah?”
“Benjamin, she’s stable.”
My head snaps over to him to see him smiling.
“Wh-what?” I stammer in disbelief.
“They did surgery to repair some of her intestines. And even though she nearly died from blood loss, there was no critical damage to any of her major organs. She made it through the night, and this morning, she opened her eyes for a bit.”
I feel like my heart might burst from shock.
“I don’t believe it,” I tell him, still dumbstruck. My girl made it through? She was sure as dead when they took me away from her, but she was too damn strong to let go.
“Well believe it. And when she wakes her ass up, she’ll be looking for you. When she doesn’t see you, do you know whose ass she’ll chew out? Mine.”
I stand and walk over to him. “I’m sorry. I tried to protect her from him, the man who killed her father. Tell her I love her.”
He smiles sadly at me. I can tell that he loves her too but respects that what she and I have is something special.
“Ahh, so it was him after all? I had a hunch but, of course, never told her.” He sighs before continuing on. “Listen. There was sixty grand worth of coke logged in at the crime scene. There were also three bodies. The evidence shows the only bullets you shot off were in Charles, a.k.a. Oculus, Nash. Two kilos of coke can land you up to twenty years in prison. However, the coke wasn’t on your person and we can’t prove you were ever in possession of it or a part of the transaction. Unfortunately, the gun you used to kill Oculus with was a stolen firearm. That alone can earn you up to four years. But murder? That will get you a lot longer,” he says softly and pauses.
Oculus gave me those fucking guns several years ago. Stolen guns of course. I shake my head at how blindly I always followed that asshole.
Murder? My crime. It was worth it as long as she’s alive. When she awakes and discovers that her father’s killer is dead, she’ll finally be at peace. I gave that to her.
“I, however, am a material witness. And as I told internal affairs, you protected not one but two police officers. That right there will get you a reduced sentence with the judge. I saw the whole thing. Oculus aimed his gun at Maya. You shot Oculus. End of story.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You were passed out, man.”
“Nope, I’m pretty sure I was awake and saw the whole thing.” He winks at me.
Motherfucker. This guy is covering for me. “Why?”
“Maya. Now, what she did—falling in love with you and going after her father’s killer—was majorly against the fucking rules. But the bottom line is she’s my best friend. I love her too. She’s also my partner. And partners have each other’s back. Stick to the story and you’ll get out of this mess a lot easier than what you think.”
I nod at him. The prospect of not spending twenty-plus years in jail is fucking phenomenal.
“When she wakes up, tell her I love her. Tell her I’m sorry it came to this but I’m not sorry that fate brought us together.”
“I’ll tell her, but she won’t be satisfied until you tell her that yourself. I know her. She’s stubborn as fuck.”
We both laugh because she is one of the most stubborn, hardheaded people I know.
“I never wanted to be a part of the drugs, you know. In fact, my fucking grandmother just found out yesterday and I’m sure she’s just waiting for the opportunity to see me again so she can beat me with her rolled-up magazine. Oculus just recruited me at a young age—at a time when I needed a father. He became that figure for me. But my heart was never in it. Once I met Maya, I knew I wanted out. She was—is—worth doing whatever it takes to get out.”
He smiles at me. “Yeah, she’s a good girl. And, Ben, you’re a good guy. Your record is clean. I know about your Internet woodworking business.”
“You talked to my grandmother?”
He chuckles. “Yeah. This morning she made me bacon and eggs when I went to talk to her about you. I told her it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted. And then we prayed.” His eyes widen.
I laugh, knowing how persistent Grammy can be and how outrageous her prayers are. Considering that I’m in jail and Maya’s in the hospital, I’m sure it was a wild prayer session.
“Let’s just say if her prayers come true, you’ll stay in jail until you learn your lesson, Maya will have a miraculous recovery and be pregnant with your child, and I’ll ‘get married to some young thing that will produce lots of beautiful Mexican babies.’”
I bust out laughing because that sounds just like Grammy—always trying to talk God into doing things her way. She’s never met a stranger. God, I’ll miss her.
“Hey, Lopez?”
“Yep?”
“Who was the cop I hit in the nose?”
His eyes darken. “Jake Lester,” he grumbles, annoyed at the mention of his name.
“That day Maya was arrested, I watched him from across the street fondle her. If I ever see him again, I’m going to beat the shit out of him.”
“That fucking asshole. I still owe him my own ass beating for that,” he growls.
I’m glad to see that he’s just as pissed off as I am. Maybe there’s hope for being his friend too one day.
“I’ll take care of Lester. You worry about keeping your story straight. We’ll get you through this. Maya won’t have it any other way. Thank you again for protecting her.”
We both nod in mutual respect before he walks away, leaving me once again alone in my cell. This time, I’m filled with hope.
Maya will be okay.
And one day we can be together.
No drugs.
No lies.
No bullshit.
Just us.
And I can’t fucking wait.
Eleven months later
THE ALARM CLOCK GOES OFF early on the bedside table. After I roll over and turn it off, I look at the picture Grammy gave me after I got out of the hospital. It’s a picture of Ben sitting on the front porch and grinning. God, I miss him.
I sit up in bed and stretch my arms above me. A sharp pai
n stabs my side and I jerk my hands down. Occasionally, I get pains from where the bullet went in, but they are thankfully few and far between. I get up and pad over to the closet, stopping at the jacket that still smells like him. Unable to help myself, I inhale the familiar scent and smile. Today is a big day. Today, I am bringing him home.
After searching through the closet, I settle on a spaghetti-strap dress that goes to my knees. I hardly ever wear dresses, but I want to be pretty for him. In a naughty move, I opt to not wear a bra or panties. This will be the first time in almost a year that we’ve been able to be together and I want to make it easy for him. Very easy.
My phone rings, so I step into some flip-flops and run to answer it. I take notice of the delicious smell of bacon and my stomach grumbles. The best thing about living with Grammy is home-cooked breakfast every single morning. It’s also the worst thing. I’ve easily gained ten pounds since being here. I remember the day I was discharged from the hospital like it was yesterday.
“You’re coming home with me, sugar. I’m going to take care of you,” Grammy tells me.
She’s come to visit me every day since I was shot. I’ve come to look forward to her presence. My own family couldn’t care less about me, but this woman? She treats me like I belong to her.
I nod my agreement, and she rushes over to envelop me in a hug. “He’ll be home before we know it,” she promises.
One of the last things I remember before slipping into oblivion was Ben telling me over and over that he loved me. Even after my betrayal—after finding out I had set him up—he still loved me. And of course I loved him right back. That would never change.
Miguel came to me right after I came to in the hospital and told me that Ben was looking at a lesser sentence than we’d originally thought. It was music to my ears.
“I can’t believe I’m fucking saying this, Maya, but Ben is good for you. The way you turn all girly when talking about him? That’s a normal womanly thing to do. You were always lacking in that department,” he teases.
