Fighting took too much energy, something she was quickly running out of. Every morning, she woke up and felt less and less alive. Just getting out of bed took more energy than she cared to admit.
Reading was something Priety loved doing. She tried reading but the romance novel she was reading was given to her by her mother. After tossing the book so hard across the room, it ripped into nothing but pages. She watched the different pages fall soundlessly to the ground and that made her fly after them, falling to her knees, sobbing, while trying to gather and stick the pages back together feverishly.
She needed a drink, something that would make the hair on the back of her neck stand on end; a drink that would burn its way down her throat to take her mind off the pain in her heart. Ignoring the pages, she braced against the wall to pull herself to her feet before weakly wobbling out the door.
* * * *
The television blared from the living room and Priety couldn’t believe she had left it on. Her head pounded like someone was inside taking a hammer to it. She winced. Every thought, movement, every breath caused her to want to curl up into a ball and die. The throbbing just wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t believe she drank so much; it wasn’t at all like her. Somehow, during the evening she had found her way down by the local pub and sat at the bar. Most of the night’s memories were foggy but now her head throbbed like the devil. With a groan, she grabbed her head to stop the sound vibrating off her brain causing her vision to blur. Priety stumbled out of bed and staggered into the living room to flip off the television before collapsing onto the sofa. It was amazing how much energy it took to stop one’s head from exploding.
Every noise, no matter how low, caused her head to throb and she closed her eyes, resting her head back against the sofa. How could she have been so stupid? She knew no one at the bar would tell her she had too much to drink. The bartender would never cut her off. It was after all Danny; Mister Shit For Brains. The same guy that thought the capital of Jamaica was Mexico. Well it was not really all his fault; she was as much to blame for her hang-over as anyone else. She had wanted something to kill the pain and Danny handed over a bottle of vodka.
The shrill ring of the telephone caused her to jerk and moan in pain. She looked around for something to toss at it but that only caused the phone to ring longer. Like a daredevil, she dove across the sofa and grabbed it. “What?” she groaned.
“Priety?” the voice called from the other end.
“I think they can hear you in Turkey,” she rubbed her forehead. “I don’t want to change my long distance plan. I don’t want to see your girlfriend on your cam. I don’t want to enlarge my penis – whatever you’re selling I don’t want or need. Got that?”
The feminine voice on the other end chuckled. “Priety Roshan, are you drunk?”
“Hoo boy!” She sobered up somewhat, the pain in her head turned to a dull throb. “I am so sorry…”
“Drink lots of water,” the woman offered. “That will help.”
Heat charged Priety’s cheeks and she smiled even though she knew her best friend couldn’t see her. “Thank you. I don’t normally get this drunk, I…”
“I know, hon.” Kerry giggled. “Listen, I’m coming over. I have news and we should celebrate.”
Priety moaned; she couldn’t believe she was still so out of it, she didn’t recognize her best friend’s voice. She opened her mouth to say something but before she could protest or accept, she heard the dial tone. Staring blankly at the phone she made a sound in her throat and let it fall into the cradle before leaning back against the sofa to calm the spinning in head.
Grabbing a hold of furniture and walls, she made her way into the kitchen and grabbed a glass. Filling it with water, she began chugging.
“The person who thought of this hang-over cure obviously hasn’t heard of water poisoning,” Priety moaned, but chugged another glass of water.
By the time the doorbell rang, Priety drank enough water to cause a small flood and used the bathroom a good five times. She jerked when the Dixie horn of the doorbell blared. She tried remembering why she chose that tune for her doorbell. It was getting more and more annoying. Putting down the glass she rushed for the door and pulled it open.
“Diva!” Her best friend Kerry cheered while waving a bottle of champagne and grabbed her into a hug. “I am so happy! We so have to celebrate!”
“No more alcohol.” Priety covered her mouth with a hand. Even the mere thought of alcohol made her ill. “I’ve had enough for two lifetimes.”
“Nonsense.” Kerry giggled while hurrying into the kitchen with Priety following behind her.
“I am not kidding, Ker. Anymore alcohol and I swear I’ll hurl! And then you’ll have to clean it up.”
“Spoil sport.” Kerry pouted but placed the bottle down and turned to face her friend to wiggle her ring finger in the air. “He asked me !”
“Chad asked you to marry him? Finally?”
Kerry nodded with a wide smile on her face and Priety screamed before diving into her best friend’s arms. The force she rushed with caused both women to topple to the ground with Kerry on the bottom.
“Congrats! About time! I would offer you a happy squeal but, hang over and all.”
“I know!” Kerry echoed. “Took him only five years.”
“Okay we need to make a toast,” Priety admitted as she helped her friend up from the floor. “But with juice.”
She hurried over to the fridge. “Orange or strawberry juice?”
“Orange.” Kerry moved to the cupboard to grab two champagne glasses.
Filling them with orange juice, Priety raised hers and smiled. “To new beginnings and good times,” she smiled even though deep down it felt like something was missing in her own life. She couldn’t be jealous of Kerry; Priety swore never to get married unless she was in love. But increasingly men didn’t want love. They wanted to hit it then quit it – that was how the man on the television had said it. Men wanted sex and that was it. They didn’t want the strings – children, commitment. What was it he called those kind of men? Commitment-phobes. They even had a name for breaking a woman’s heart into a million little pieces.
What was the world coming to anyways?
“To new beginnings and good times.” Kerry repeated.
Absentminded, Priety touched her glass daintily to her friend’s.
Hopping back onto their seats the two friends leaned forward as though sharing a secret no one else in the world could hear. “Can I ask you a favor?” Kerry spoke up and placed her glass down before staring at her fingers.
“Anything, you know that.”
“I would like it, if you’d be my maid of honor.”
Priety blinked in disbelief. “What? Are you sure? I mean I don’t want to mess things up because I’ve never been in a western wedding before…” Priety made excuses, but she actually hated weddings. The few she went to in her life always reminded her just how completely unlovable she was. She saw them as a slap in the face and something she could never have. But Kerry was her best friend and for her, Priety would do anything.
“You’ll do fine, just boss everyone around.” Kerry laughed and Priety chuckled. “And if Chad gets cold feet and tries to run, you have my full permission to take him out.”
“That I can do!” Priety laughed heartily.
It was late that afternoon when Kerry left and Priety began going through proofs for the photo shoot she did the week before. Her boss told her not to worry about it until the end of her vacation but Priety never did like idle hands.
Chapter Two
The crime rate in Edison slowly grew, proven by the number of cold cases piled on top of the desk in the mid-size office. Homicide had almost tripled in the last two years and rapes—the ones that were reported—along with assaults were through the roof. Edison was in trouble. The politicians kept on denying it but that didn’t change the truth. With a frown he rubbed his tired eyes and grabbed another folder. It seemed as though it
never ended. Each time his crew solved a case, it seemed like a hundred more took its place – one foot forward, six back.
The sound floated down the corridor like a familiar spirit and everyone knew what was happening. Chief Chen was at it again. The man screamed into the phone until he got beet red in the face like he forgot he was human and needed to breathe. A few of the officers had bets going on when the chief would finally yell for so long he’d pass out. It was cruel but funny at the same time. Two officers with notepads stood off to the side peering into the office through the glass wall wondering who was going to win the bet.
Detective Luke Stanton shook his head and flipped the file shut before running a tired hand over his face. Sitting up straight, he stretched his aching back and could literally hear the bones cracking back into place. He moaned and rubbed his neck before tilting his head one way and then the next. He rubbed a hand over his cheeks and under his chin. He could feel his day old stubbles growing in and made a mental note to shave. He didn’t like shaving one bit, he would rather catch his pants on fire or run down Main Street naked but he had to shave in order to maintain a business-like demeanor. He wasn't a beat cop anymore but still they wanted him to look his best. With a tired sigh, he wondered why. It wasn't like he was going to see anyone from behind a desk or going door to door or mocking through a crime scene. He would end up getting muck on his good suits and ruin them.
He missed being on the beat; the chases through long, worn out alleys. Memories of tackling perps in mud after a downpour were enough to send Luke’s adrenaline pumping. Luke missed his stops over by the Black Magic Jamaican restaurant on the west side of Edison. Due to his new promotion to detective, he barely had enough time to breath much less going across town for delicious, mouth watering, eye-burning Jerk Chicken. His favorite order over at Black Magic was their fried fish and festival, a fried, sweet pastry. His stomach growled in disappointment from not eating the chicken, and festival or the fish. Luke moaned. What he wouldn’t give for some good-ole soul food from Jamaica. He made a mental note to stop by the restaurant one day soon but knew chances were slim.
Placing the folder on top of the pile he gathered of Edison City's cold cases, he glanced at the clock and flew out of his seat. He hadn’t realized it was so late. Grabbing his things, he reached for his leather jacket on his way out the door and rushed toward the locker room to pick up a few things before heading home.
Walking into the locker room still felt strange. Even after so many years on the force. He still hoped to see Riyu Kotsuke and Michel Toriano when he entered with their conversation “Who is hotter? Jessica Alba or Beil?”
He had to remember they were no longer in the academy. They graduated, with honors and stationed throughout Edison. Grown men who sometimes fell into the games of who would you do, or who is hotter, just to pass the time. They said boys will be boys and when Luke, Michel, Ryu and Luke’s brother Keegan got together, that statement couldn’t be truer.
But back in the academy it was worse. The games happened everyday. He would walk into the change room after a long day to Riyu and Michel going back and forth yelling, “Alba!”
“Beil!”
“Alba!”
During these arguments Ryu would be hauling on some kind of graphic t-shirt that said something inappropriate like “I’d hit that,” or have pictures of naked women silhouettes on it with one crossed out and below those images were the words “my to-do list.” The two would argue back and forth until Luke would jump in with a smirk saying, “They're both hot and I would do them both, alright!”
The other two friends would simply arch a brow and smile before heading to the showers.
But those were good times.
With a labored sigh, he reached into the locker and pulled out a t-shirt that said Edison City Police, and stuck it into his bag. He grabbed another with everything’s bigger in Texas and an arrow pointing downward on the front. Luke frowned at it. That wasn’t his at all – chances were it was Ryu’s.
How’d that get in here?
He shoved it back into the locker. He slipped his arms into his jacket before grabbing a plastic bag with clean socks. Shoving his gun into the holster around his shoulders, he re-attached his shield to this belt and pulled both sides of the jacket in to zip it up. It had been a long day and even though he couldn’t have a drink with his boys, he had one of them stopping by the house for a drink. He didn’t really feel like going out that night, but then again he never felt like hitting a club. He hated the club scene.
Maybe I’ll see what Keegan is doing tonight--
Drunken women hitting on him was not Luke's idea of a good time. It annoyed him as he tried to figure out why a woman would do something like that to herself when they knew all the dangers that lurked in the dark corners of a club. Perhaps it was the cop in him showing its face again but it worried him that no one taught these women that you just didn’t pick up some random guy and take him home. Didn’t their parents teach them not to talk to strangers?
Other officers around him in the locker-room talked in hushed tones because it seemed as though he was the only veteran there. All the others in the room were rookies. That wasn’t something that bothered him but he still wished there were more than a handful of seasoned cops left at Edison. All the others retired early to go on to other things like the army or SWAT. Luke shook his head at the thought of the ones in the army getting deployed to Iraq and his heart sank.
Grabbing his gear, he bid the others good night and left the precinct. When the door opened, the cool air greeted him and the sounds of a busy highway called out to him. The sounds of vehicles whizzing by lulled him like a sweet lullaby. Then again lately he wasn’t getting much sleep.
The same feeling kept grabbing his insides and twisting it into a knot and he didn’t know why. One of his close friends, Detective Riyu Kotsuke, had only laughed while weightlifting and told Luke he was being paranoid. Luke didn’t think it was paranoia, something wasn’t right.
“See? That’s the thing about you, Luke,” Riyu explained. “You get the feeling and half the time you’re right. Which is starting to creep the hell out of me.”
Michel put down the weights he was wielding and began strapping a pair of boxing gloves to his hands. “Riyu's right. Instead of sitting around here going X-Files on our asses, go out and look around see what you can find. Even though you don’t know what it is yet. Who knows? You might crash into something.”
“I don’t know, bro. That’s like looking for trouble,” Luke pointed out. “I don’t want trouble I just want this feeling gone.”
Dumping some files onto the passenger seat along with his bag, he got into the late model SUV and pulled out of the parking lot. The drive back home didn’t take long; Luke knew the short cuts to get around the traffic.
After scoping up the mail that had been shoved through the mail slot in his front door, he set his cell phone to charge and rifled through the envelopes as he made his way for the living room and his voice mail.
“Junk, junk, junk,” he muttered as he tossed envelope after envelope into the garbage but stopped at one. “Would you like to enlarge your—” Luke frowned and crumpled that one in a fist for even suggesting he needed help in that department. He tossed it into the garbage and returned to the others. “Bills, bills,” those he chucked onto the counter while wishing he could trash them.
Turning his attention to the voice mail and the flashing red light, he pressed play and began rummaging through his bag. Five of the calls were different companies wanting to know if he wanted to change his long distance plan and he growled. How many times did he have to tell them to take him off their lists because he didn’t want what they were selling. Deleting the annoying messages, he stopped at a message from Riyu saying he would try to show up at the get together later that night but he wasn’t sure. Finally, there was a message from his brother Keegan asking what was happening that night and if he was invited.
Chuckling, Luke reac
hed for the phone to call his brother.
“It’s a party, son,” Luke laughed when his brother finally answered the phone. “You want in?”
“I am going crazy, bro,” Keegan complained. “Taking time off work is a pain in the ass. There is nothing to do around this dump.”
Luke smiled at Keegan referring to his house as a dump. In fact, Keegan’s house is no dump with five bedrooms, a swimming pool, and professionally decorated. The house is beautiful. The hot tub is large enough to hold an entire football team’s defensive line.
“Let me guess, you would rather be on the job, busting down some doors playing G.I Joe for the day?” It was a rhetorical question and Luke got a grunt for an answer so he chuckled. “That’s why I don’t have to deal with that crap. I don’t take time off.”
“You don’t have a life.”
Luke ran a hand over his cleanly shaven head and frowned. Living inside the real world was hard enough without sex and relationships complicating it. “I have a life…it just doesn’t include a sexual one.”
“You said it, not me.” Keegan laughed. “So what’s up with tonight?”
“Just me and Michel getting together for a few beers. Riyu may not make it. Just stop by when you’re ready.”
“Aight,” Keegan jargoned. “I’ll be there.”
After hanging up, Luke stripped out of his shirt and folded it over the back of his chair. If his mother saw that she would scold him and tell him a gentleman does not strip in his living room. To which Luke would respond no one ever accused him of being a gentleman. Luke smiled thinking about it and glanced at the calendar. His parents were on vacation somewhere in the Caribbean and would be returning in a few days. He moaned because even at his age and even though she wasn’t really there for him as a child, he still missed his mother. After-all, she had been trying to get closer to her sons—maybe it was because she was getting older, closer to the grave.
Death, what a powerful motivator.
The Stanton family wasn’t really a close knit one. The brothers, Keegan and Luke were close but Marcia and Fredrick, their parents, were too busy with their careers and therefore Keegan ended up raising himself and his younger brother Luke. Sometimes Luke felt the absence of his mother caused his awkwardness toward women and the way he felt around them. He loved women but he could never find the right thing to say around them. When they cried he felt as though he should be doing something to make them better. He would try to talk but his mouth got dry, his heart hammered inside his chest and his voice escaped him. When they were angry he would promptly tell them off and storm out.
See No Evil Page 3
