Deserve

by C. C. Snow

  His expression softens. “Sean.”

  I hold up my hand to stem his familiar speech. Restless, I stand up and pace. “I know. It wasn’t my fault. You take full responsibility for your own actions. But I keep going over that night in my head.”

  “You know that’s a zero-sum game.”

  I rub the back of my neck. “James, you didn’t see me. I…I hesitated to pull the trigger. I didn’t want to shoot him. I saw him take out his gun and I was paralyzed. If I hadn’t been such a coward, you’d still be on the force. You would’ve made detective.” I halt in front of him and let the torment in my soul show. “You should be in my shoes.”

  “Is that what has your thong twisted between your crack?” He flings himself out of his chair and shoves his face into mine, his breath hot and fast. “Who fucking made you God, asshole? Who gave you exclusive rights on guilt? Don’t you think I torture myself with what would have happened if I stopped to think about things for half a fucking second? If I hadn’t forced my partner to shoot a human being for the first time? To have done anything differently so that I didn’t have to put my fucking wife through the hell of watching me undergo endless surgeries and gut-wrenching sessions of physical therapy?”

  I stagger back from the heated lash of his emotions. His eyes are dark with regret and guilt. Except for the color, I could have been looking into a mirror.

  James blows out a deep breath and sits wearily back on the sofa. “It’s something I live with every damn day, but it doesn’t make me push people away. Like you, fucking pansy-ass dickwad.”

  I slam my pansy-ass back into the chair, never taking my gaze off his face. “I didn’t know you felt that way. That night…you were only doing what was right. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

  “Pot, meet kettle.”

  That pulls a reluctant smile out of me. Sobering, I stare at him intently and admit, “There’s more.” And I let the rest of the poison out of my system, expecting him to kick me out of his home any second. I wouldn’t blame him if he took out his gun and put a bullet into my forehead.

  Instead, he shakes his head sadly and says, “You’re such a fucking douche. Is that what you’ve been carrying around all these years? Don’t let the guilt eat at you, Sean. I can’t tell you how fucking happy I am to be alive. I have Leslie and Mac and a new career I love.”

  The tension drains from my shoulders and I lean forward. “You don’t blame me?”

  “For what? For helping out a friend? I would have done the same thing if I were in your shoes. And what would the outcome have been had you not been my partner? Have you thought about that?” He reaches over with one hand and clasps my shoulder. “You may not believe it, but I’m glad I’m out of the force. The rules always chafed me. I was too hot-tempered to have gone much further up the ladder, unlike you. I don’t fool myself that I would have made detective. I’m happy with my life. Now I get to live in a world where there is justice at the end of every goddamn book.”

  Feeling lighter than I’ve felt in years, I exhale a long breath, pushing the guilt out of my system. It will come back, but James’s forgiveness has given me the antidote to banish it when it returns. I lean back, feeling a glimmer of hope for my redemption. “I meant to ask you about that last book. Joe Sherman, hero cop, was obviously based on me. Shouldn’t I get a share of the royalties?”

  “You wish, megalomaniac. He was slick, debonair, and had a ten-inch dick. It was clearly a self-portrait,” he says smugly.

  Our laughter must have reached upstairs because Leslie comes downstairs and stares at us with her arms crossed over her chest. “It’s about damn time. Dumbasses.” She walks to the sofa and sits next to James.

  “Leslie, are there any new developments in the case?”

  Lips turning down, she shakes her head. “No, I used every interrogation technique on Poole, but he insists he wasn’t responsible. He claims he lied because he knew he would be the prime suspect and he panicked.”

  “Now there’s a real dumbass,” James mutters with a sneer on his lips.

  “Do you believe him?”

  Her frown deepens as she looks inward. “I don’t know. He seems like a sniveling coward to me, but he could also be a sociopathic liar.”

  Fuck, if it’s not him, who the hell is it?

  ***

  Eyes burning from staring at the report, I look up and note with surprise that the office is deserted. A glance at the clock reveals that it’s already ten p.m. Normally, at the station, things would still be hopping, but I am currently at headquarters. After a late meeting with some of the other squads, I had opted to stay here to go over a few reports and lost track of time.

  I run a hand over my face tiredly and wince when I graze my swollen jaw.

  “Fucking Mack truck,” I mutter under my breath. Unsurprisingly, all my calls to Cael have been ignored.

  As much as I dread going back to the apartment—even emptier now since I’ve had the ruined furniture hauled away—my body is telling me it needs rest. If I drink enough scotch, I can at least get a couple of hours of shut-eye. Sighing, I get to my feet, shrug into my winter coat and take the elevator to the garage.

  My steps echo loudly in the empty underground lot. Automatically, I scan my surroundings, searching for any anomalies. There are only a few cars at this time of night. The garage is barely lit by low wattage fluorescent lights, but from yards away, I already see the damage.

  “Motherfucker!” I follow that with a string of obscenities as I stare at my slashed tires. I go down on one knee to look at the cuts. Neat and precise. These were not done in a fit of rage. The hairs on the back of my neck rise. The threatening message is loud and clear and I know who sent it. “The fucker’s got balls to come to the parking lot of NYPD headquarters and vandalize my car.”

  Rage pumping through my veins, I spin around, taking my Glock out of my inside pocket in one smooth motion. “Come out, you fucking coward! I’m not afraid of you.” I swear I hear a mocking cackle, but there’s no movement and no reply. Even knowing he’s probably long gone, I check all three floors thoroughly, but find nothing.

  Swearing a blue streak, I walk back into the building and head straight to the security room.

  Manny Cortez opens the door before I can knock. The short, stocky man has been the head of security for the building since before I joined the force and I’m not surprised he saw me coming.

  “Rowan, what are you doing running around the garage with your gun drawn,” he asks, confirming my suspicion that he has been tracking my movements. Behind him are numerous screens displaying the various parts of the building.

  “Manny, I need a favor. There was an intruder who got into the lot downstairs. I need access to the video footage.” I describe what happened and where I am parked.

  His nostrils flare in anger at the idea of someone slipping past his eagle eyes. “You got it, man.” Sitting behind his computer screen, he taps in a few keystrokes and pulls up the camera feed closest to my car. “I’m backlogging it to six o’clock.”

  “Yes, perfect,” I say. The time is a good starting point. If the crime had been committed before quitting time, somebody would have reported it.

  Sitting down, I hit fast-forward on the footage. This is a huge building and there is a lot of in and out traffic, but I keep my eyes focused on my car.

  “There!” I hit pause as a shadowy figure saunters purposefully to my car. He’s dressed unremarkably in jeans and a long coat. His head and face are hidden by a rimmed hat. I assess his build and narrow frame and I’m ninety-nine percent certain it’s Bleed.

  The time stamp is 8:58 p.m.

  “We change shifts at nine. Somehow this guy knew about our operation,” Manny says angrily. The most vulnerable moment is when one crew clocks out and another comes on board. There’s a hard glint in Manny’s eyes and I know he will turn his team upside down to get to the bottom of this.

  I play the video on normal speed.

  “Cocksucker!”
Manny shouts as the lean form bends over my tires, his knife glinting in the faint light.

  Cocky bastard doesn’t even look around as most amateur criminals would. He goes about his business coldly and methodically—like a consummate professional—always keeping his face angled away from the cameras.

  Manny must have read my mind because he mutters an eyebrow-raising obscenity and says grimly, “He knows where the cameras are.”

  Bleed circles my car again, this time ghosting the tip of his knife along the contours. Then with a wave at the camera, he calmly leaves.

  “Bastard wants me to know he’s restraining himself. He could have slashed my tires at the station, but he wants me to know he’s tracking me. Demented fuck,” I say.

  We check a few of the other videos, but other than a dark shadow, we don’t catch another glimpse of him. The man moves like a phantom and I understand why nobody has caught him.

  Sitting back in his chair, Manny grumbles, “Damn if he isn’t good. I’m going to have to reconfigure everything.” The fanatic gleam in Manny’s eyes tells me he’s looking forward to the challenge.

  “If he thinks I’m going to back off because of his little threat, he has another think coming,” I utter. If anything, Bleed’s little display has hardened my resolve to get Carmona and his twisted army off the streets. People like them are the reason I got into law enforcement in the first place. There is no place in society for these sick fucks.

  “You know who he is?” Manny asks, curiosity in his voice.

  Nodding, I tell him my suspicions.

  “When you catch the ass-wipe, I’ll be the first to take you out for a celebratory drink,” he says.

  “Thanks, Manny.” I pat him on the back. “I’ll file the vandalism report tomorrow. Night.”

  I hail a taxi. As soon as I climb into the backseat, I phone Bo.

  “What’s up?”

  “Is Maggie safe?” I never forget that her safety is my top priority. Now that Hannah Michaels is awake, their attacker must be feeling desperate. Trapped animals are always the most dangerous and they lash out indiscriminately.

  “Yup. She’s back in her dorm. Her brother spent most of the day with her. Almost caught sight of my guy,” Bo says with a note of admiration in his voice.

  “Ranger,” I say, not needing to embellish.

  “Ah…” The one syllable contains a world of understanding. “We’ll stay a little further back when he’s around then.”

  “If she’s with her brother, she’s safe. I have another situation on my front.” I tell him about the slashed tires. “I don’t think he knows about Maggie, but just keep your eyes peeled.”

  “Will do, man. We won’t let anything happened to her.”

  I wish I were reassured, but something ominous roils in my gut.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Maggie

  “Cael, I can’t do dinner tonight. I have my last final and then afterwards I’m going out with some friends to celebrate.” I tilt my head to hold the phone in place as I dig in my bag for my pepper spray. As soon as I have it in my hand, I relax.

  “Maggie, are you sure—”

  I cut him off mid-protest. “Cael, I’m going to be with a big group of people. I promise I won’t be alone for even a second. I’ll have my friends drop me off at my dorm and I’ll text you as soon as I get back to my room.”

  For my sanity, I need to go out tonight. Being cooped up in my room, with thoughts of Sean swirling in my head, is like jabbing at an open wound with a hot poker every few minutes. My emotions careen wildly from one extreme to the other. One minute I hope he comes riding in on a white horse to tell me he loves me. Then I hate myself for prolonging the pain by thinking of him. Even my books, my once reliable escapes, have been unable to distract me. Dancing and drinking with my friends will provide a few hours of respite from my problems.

  There’s a lot of grumbling from the other end of the line, but I don’t expect my brother to change overnight.

  “And then tomorrow, you can be my bodyguard twenty-four seven,” I offer with a smile.

  “Fine. Tell me where you’re going.”

  “So you can follow me? Fat chance!” Before he can continue to argue with me, I say, “I’ve got to go now. Todd’s here. See you tomorrow!” I hang up and a second later, I get a text.

  You better contact me by midnight.

  I roll my eyes at his over-the-top protectiveness.

  Yes, Corporal, sir.

  Brat.

  I frown at the blinking battery light and turn off my phone, hoping to preserve the last bar of power. I had forgotten to charge it while I was studying last night. Patting my bag, I feel the shape of my charger at the bottom. After my exam, I’ll recharge my phone.

  Todd approaches the building, his long limbs eating up the ground quickly. Dressed in European-cut black jeans and a fitted peacoat, he looks like he belongs on the cover of a fashion magazine.

  Stepping out into the cold, I give him a hug. “Hey, Todd. Thanks for walking me to school.”

  “Don’t mention it. Besides I have to drop these books off at the library. I can’t believe I’m done!”

  “Don’t rub it in! I still have one more test to go, remember?”

  “You’re going to ace it!”

  “Thanks. I wish Hannah were here to celebrate with us tonight.” My lips turn downward in sorrow.

  “Me too. Hopefully she’ll be ready to return to school next year.”

  “God, I hope so,” I say. Hannah was released from the hospital a couple of days ago and is now recovering at home in New Jersey. Thankfully, there doesn’t seem to be any serious damage to her brain, but there are still gaps in her memory. “We should go visit her after we’re done.”

  “That’s a great idea. We’ll set something up next week.”

  The sky is getting dark and I shiver in my jacket as we start walking. Little snow flurries fall from the sky and I pull my beanie further down over my ears. Having exams in the evening is a pain in the ass, especially in the winter when the sun sets in the late afternoon. It’s only five and the shadows are already long and deep.

  A tremor runs down my spine as I feel watchful eyes on me and I surreptitiously study my surroundings. Everyone seems to be intent on going about their business, but my senses are on edge. My nerves are tingling, sending a steady stream of adrenaline through my system.

  My gaze catches on a dark-haired man with a lean face. Dressed in plain, drab clothes, he should have been unremarkable, but there is a stillness in the way he holds his body, like a dangerous predator on the hunt, that draws my attention. His light-colored eyes seem to drill into me and my heart jumps in fear. I turn my head away as casually as possible, pretending I don’t see him, but I keep him in view from the corner of my eye.

  My legs weaken with relief when I see him turn away and walk into the subway station.

  I press a hand to chest and take shallow breaths. If they don’t catch this guy soon, I’m going to have arrhythmia.

  When we arrive on campus, someone brushes forcefully against me and I jerk back, bumping into Todd.

  “Jesus, Maggie. Are you okay?”

  I spin around, gaze frantically looking for anyone suspicious, but all I see are students, stressed out and sleep-deprived.

  “Maggie, are you okay?” Todd touches my arm to get my attention.

  Shaking off the paranoia, I take off my hat and wipe my clammy forehead with the back of my hand. “Sorry. Just rattled nerves.” I stuff the hat into my messenger bag.

  He pulls me in for a quick hug. “I’m sorry, darling. Hopefully they’ll catch him soon. I still can’t believe it might be Calvin.”

  “He always gave me creepy vibes,” I confess.

  Todd’s eyes round with surprise and he says reproachfully, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I had no proof and Hannah was so into him, you know?” I grimace, wondering if she would have listened to me had I told her about my misgivings.


  “Nuh-uh. I know that look. Don’t drive yourself crazy with what-ifs. She probably would have continued to see him anyway.”

  “You’re right,” I say with a sigh, knowing how strong-willed Hannah is.

  He takes out his phone to check the time. “Your final is in fifteen minutes. You better get going. Are you sure you don’t need me to pick you up after class?”

  “No, Arianna, Paula, and I will meet you at the club.”

  “Alright. Good luck with the test.”

  “Thanks, Todd. See you later.” I give him a brief hug and enter my lecture hall. As I walk up the aisle to my usual seat, I feel eyes tracking my movements. Suppressing the chill running down my spine, I casually turn my head and meet a dark, intent gaze.

  Josh.

  Dressed in black and sitting by himself, he emanates a sinister aura that puts off the other students.

  Don’t even think about going near Ludlow.

  Sean’s warning rings in my ear and a recklessness takes a hold of me. I’m tired of letting some cowardly criminal define the parameters of my life. I’m tired of jumping at shadows, expecting to see monsters at every turn.

  Hungry to reassert some control over my existence, I march up next to his desk, ignoring the curious glances of the other students.

  Even Josh’s black eyes widen in startled astonishment.

  “Is this seat taken?” I ask, gesturing to the seat next to him.

  “No.” There’s a hint of wry amusement in his eyes.

  Lowering myself into the seat, I glance at him from the corner of my eye. He’s looking straight at me and I fight to keep my pulse slow and even under his black, unblinking gaze. The hairs on my arms stand up in alarm when his eyes continue to fixate on me.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  What the hell are you doing, Maggie Jackson?

  The sickly sweet scent of his gum makes my nose twitch and something nags at my memory.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Sean

  “Maxine,” I coax, lowering my voice to a soothing register. “Help us out. He threatened Sheena and her whole family and I want to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone.”