When the scent on his pillow has to be enough.
-Night shift wife
Foster
“You’re the bomb,” I said to Alice as I let her into the living room.
Alice was a fellow police officer that lived downstairs.
I was lucky as fuck that she was at home, otherwise I would’ve been torn on leaving Blake by herself. Especially with the shit storm that was swirling above her head lately.
“You’re welcome, Foster. I just wish you’d have called me for something other than to babysit your woman,” her sultry voice said from behind me.
I winced.
Yeah, we’d slept together before.
It’d been convenient, but neither one of us had been looking for anything but a good time.
Something that we got, and then left soon afterwards.
“Whatever you do, don’t piss her off. Her uncle is the Chief. Trust me, you don’t want any of her kind of trouble,” I ordered, tossing her a look over my shoulder.
She tossed me a glare that clearly showed how scared she really was.
“And whatever you do, don’t tell her we’ve slept together. I want her to stay where she’s at, which totally defeats the entire purpose of having you here if you piss her off and make her leave,” I explained, picking up my keys from the table.
“Whatever,” Alice said.
I winced.
Alice, although a cop, was also a girl.
She had hormones, and mood swings just like the rest of the female population.
She was also pissy that I hadn’t called her in a while.
She was a professional, though, and enjoyed her job.
I also saw her as a friend I could count on, which was why I was trusting her with one of the most important things in my world.
Something that kind of startled me. Especially since it’d been so short of a time period since we’d met.
“Thank you, Alice,” I said. “Make yourself at home.”
I stopped though, turning back around. “Except my room. Don’t go in there unless you have to.”
She flipped me off, and I left with a smile on my face.
When I got to the station, though, I wasn’t smiling at all.
“What do you mean you’re afraid of heights?” Luke said, yelling. “You were a fuckin’ SEAL!”
“Hey man, back the fuck off,” I said as we got into Rita.
Rita was actually an armored truck. Something that was made to withstand a shit ton of violence and keep on truckin’.
I wasn’t really sure who’d started calling the truck Rita, but it was permanent now, and didn’t look to be changing ever again.
“I said I was nervous around heights. I never said anything about being scared of them. I’ll still do my job,” I snarled. “And what’s your fuckin’ problem tonight?”
Luke grimaced. “Reese started picking up shifts on the cardiology floor at the hospital. That’s one floor away from the fuckin’ roof where we’re going. I don’t like her there, but she’s stuck.”
That explained that.
Immensely.
I’d be short, too, had I been in his shoes.
Luckily, though, the man we were going to the hospital to get out was on the roof.
Which meant that the man wouldn’t be able to get back off the roof without a badge to scan him back in.
The trip there was spent talking schematics of the hospital, what we were going to do, and if we were to take lethal force if needed.
As I entered the hospital behind Luke, I stopped abruptly when a familiar pair of shoulders, and a steely pair of eyes caught mine before he disappeared around the corner.
“What the fuck?” I asked, startled.
Why was Lou here?
And if he was here, why was he leaving when there was clearly a hostage situation going on upstairs?
He couldn’t lie to me and tell me he didn’t know.
That man knew shit before other people even had time to report it.
Yet I didn’t have the time to dwell on the fact because we heard the man that had tried to kill me earlier start screaming.
We couldn’t tell what he was saying, though. It all just sounded like a bunch of gibberish from this far down.
He was really yelling, too.
I followed Luke, not sparing Lou another thought as we made it through security and straight to the stairs.
The elevator had been temporarily turned off, the only people that could override it were us, medical personnel that would need it in case of an emergency, and the fire department.
No one would be coming in or out without us knowing.
“Alright, boys,” Luke said as we climbed the last flight of stairs. “Stay safe and stay sharp.”
Something that Luke said every single time we entered a situation such as the one we were about to head into.
Nico slammed the door open with a booted foot, and immediately passed through the open door, dropping down to his knees to allow Michael, who’d been behind him, a clear shot.
It was for naught, though.
Bryson Bullard didn’t even turn to look at us as we came out.
“You can’t do this, old man! I’m fuckin’ protected!” Bullard screamed.
Instead, his eyes were focused on the building across the street, at a certain window, in particular.
“James, what’s he lookin’ at?” I asked.
James was the sniper for the SWAT team, and a man damn good at his job.
However, what Bullard was looking at was not James, seeing as James was in a building catty corner to the one that Bullard was currently shouting at.
“You won’t take me alive!” Bryson Bullard screamed, turning to us. “That crazy fucking guy can…”
He suddenly focused somewhere behind us, and started screaming. “I’m so dead. I’m sorry!”
“Do you think he’s using?” Nico asked me.
I shrugged, aiming my gun at the man.
He had a huge fucking Oxygen tank strapped to his chest. Duct tape was wrapped around his middle, holding the tank in place, and he was scanning the surroundings of the roof like a man possessed.
“I won’t tell you!” He screamed, spittle spraying a three foot radius in front of him.
None of us moved, all of us backed up against the side of the building while the man screamed at the edge of the hospital’s roof.
I knew that if we weren’t careful with where we placed our bullets, the man would fucking blow up if they tore through the tank.
“If we don’t do something, he’s going to jump over, and then where will we be?” Bennett, who was on the other side of me, rumbled.
We didn’t get a chance to answer.
“You’re daughter’s a hot fucking piece, and I’m sorry I’ll never get the chance to fuck her properly! Just remember that I’ll be taking the name of the man who plans to take her with me to the grave! You’ll never get…” Bullard screamed as he raised a gun.
Although it wasn’t pointed at us, we all tensed.
BOOM!
The rooftop exploded.
Or at least felt like it had.
What was more probable was that the man in front of us had exploded.
Bits and pieces of…ick…flesh, blood, and matter, exploded around us as Bullard’s body was blown to smithereens.
“What…the…fuck,” Michael breathed. “I’ve never seen anything like that. And I was a fuckin’ marine for years.”
I snorted.
Nobody really knew what Michael had done before he’d come to Kilgore.
We knew he had a mother and a father, and that he was in the Marines.
What we didn’t know why he was the way he was. Why he didn’t date. And why he disappeared every five days…somewhere.
What I did know about him, was that he had my back no matter what.
He would forever protect the entire team with his life, and little impressed him.
Right now, though, he was beyond impressed.
Along with every man on the team.
“What happened?” Downy yelled frantically through the headset.
Downy was our negotiator. He’d been on the bullhorn down below with the Chief.
Which meant he’d missed the show.
“I think it’s in my hair,” Bennett whispered, thoroughly disgusted.
I didn’t even want to think about things being in my hair. For now I’d just ignore it.
It wasn’t the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.
“Who shot?” Luke yelled.
Luke was pissed.
Which I guess he had a right to be.
However, as far as I knew, none of us had shot.
“Negative.”
“Not me.”
“Nope.”
“Nada.”
“Wasn’t me.”
The last one had been James. His confusion was just as apparent in his tone as it was in ours.
Luke growled in frustration as he walked further out on the roof.
“Well, it had to be one of you!” He snarled.
I started ejecting the shells from my shotgun, as did the others.
“All accounted for, boss,” I said, handing him my shells.
His eyes narrowed at me, but then widened.
“Well, if it wasn’t y’all…who the fuck was it?” He finally asked.
Again with the thirty nine thousand dollar questions.
There was only one possibility, though.
If it wasn’t us, then it had to be someone else.
And that someone else never touched us.
There’d only been one shot, and that had been aimed at Bullard.
***
Blake
I woke up and stretched my arms up high over my head, rolling over as I did.
I felt freakin’ wonderful.
I’d gotten more than enough sleep last night, sleep that had been denied to me over the past few weeks.
And I could thank Foster for that.
When he’d suggested we watch a movie, I’d been wary.
I wasn’t a big fan of horror, but it turned out that that didn’t even matter.
I was asleep within the first thirty minutes, totally forgoing all the scary parts.
The first thing that I became aware of as the sleep cleared from my brain was that Foster was gone, and had been for some time.
His side of the bed was cold.
Which made me wonder…why?
He’d been just as tired as I’d been last night, and he’d promised that he’d wake me when he went on his morning run.
What I could tell, though, by the sun streaming through the windows was that it wasn’t even morning anymore.
It was going into the afternoon.
Standing up, I walked into the bathroom to take care of my morning ritual before heading to the living room to look for Foster.
Who I found instead was anyone but Foster.
There was a woman in Foster’s living room.
A beautiful woman.
“Who are you?” I snapped at the cute blonde on Foster’s couch.
The woman looked up and smiled.
Although it came out more pained than anything.
Her eyes took in my pantless state, as well as Foster’s shirt, before she dismissed me.
“Alice. I’m Foster’s neighbor; I also work with him on the force. Foster got called out in the middle of the night for a SWAT situation,” she explained. “He didn’t want to wake you.”
I gritted my teeth at the slight curl of disgust her words carried when she’d said the last part.
“How long has he been gone?” I asked.
“Six hours,” she clipped.
I decided that maybe I wouldn’t bother talking to her anymore.
Turning on my heel, I walked back to the bedroom and slipped on a pair of black shorts.
A pair which happened to be Foster’s.
I was happy with them, though, since I planned on throwing a pot or two while I waited.
I was fairly sure he wouldn’t care, either.
After taking care of that little tidbit, I walked back out to the living room and started to gather my things.
Since what I planned to do today was a large vase, I cut a much bigger piece of clay with my wire instead of the small one I’d used with Foster the previous time.
We both stayed silent as I started to get the things collected that I’d need.
I was fully aware of her assessing me, even though she never bothered looking up from her magazine.
As I sat down, she finally deigned to speak to me again.
“So, you’re a dispatcher?” She asked offhandedly.
I looked up at her sharply, not liking the tone she used to say dispatcher.
She might as well had called me a garbage man.
“Sure am,” I said.
“How come I’ve never seen you?” Alice asked, not bothering to look up from her magazine.
It was one of Foster’s Guns and Ammo ones that he had on his nightstand.
I remembered it distinctly because it had a pink gun on the front, and there’d been a little blurb that was asking if it was okay to make guns look ‘pretty.’
I’d actually wanted to read that article, but I’d left it on the nightstand to get to when I got a chance.
And I knew Foster had already read the entire thing since we’d had our own debate on whether guns should be made to look like that.
His main argument had been about kids.
How they’d, if the gun was left within reach, be more tempted by a gun that was pretty rather than a gun that was just plain black.
In fact, I’d argued with him about it, and had meant to read the article, but he’d put his foot down that we’d be watching a movie, so I’d left it in the bedroom.
Which meant that she had to come in the bedroom.
And she’d seen me naked.
What the fuck?
Rather than dwelling on it, I got some water on my hands, and pressed the pedal with my foot to get the wheel spinning.
Then I started to press my fingers into the clay, moving them up to form the base of the vase.
“So what do you think of him?” Alice said sometime later.
I’d just started to work the vase up about nine inches in height when she’d said the words, and accidentally pressed harder than I’d meant to, making it lean slightly to one side.
Sighing, I fixed it before I stood and started to press inward. “What do I think about whom?”
“Foster,” she answered quickly, finally looking up at me.
Something which I caught out of the corner of my eye.
I didn’t look at her, though, so totally focused on my vase that I didn’t even care enough to look up.
“I love him,” I said simply.
It was true. I loved him.
Something which didn’t scare the shit out of me like I’d thought it would.
When I’d left David, I’d had a party to celebrate our split.
A party of one where I got drunk, and then passed out in my rented hotel room.
But it’d been fun.
However, I’d made a promise to myself that night that I’d never let myself fall apart over a guy.
A promise that I broke the first day I met Foster Lager Spurlock.
A promise that I was happy to break.
I knew in my heart that Foster was a good man.
When he’d expressed his disgust over David’s behavior, I’d felt relief.
Utter relief that there were still good men in this world that weren’t taken.
“You love him?” She asked slowly. “You’ve only known him for like a month.”
I ignored her, thinking it’d be best to not bring attention to the fact that she was getting to me.
“He’s not a love kind of guy. He’s a fuck and go home kind of guy,” she said, turning to face me now.
She was we
aring short shorts that rode up to her vagina, and a skin tight tank top that had some sort of police symbol on it.
How did the woman become a police officer?
She was the epitome of dainty, dumb blonde. Which was saying something since I was blonde myself.
How’d a woman like her become a cop?
I’d heard that the KPD’s fitness test was one of the hardest in the State of Texas to pass.
Did she have to suck someone’s cock to get them to pass her?
“You know, when he called my number last night, I was fairly sure he was calling me to come up to his apartment for a completely different reason,” she said snidely.
The insinuation in that comment had me backing away from the table before I could even think better of myself.
Once my foot left the wheel, the spinning vase slowed slowly, before stopping completely.
Once I was sure it would stay where I wanted it, I walked purposefully to the woman, muddy hands and all, and stopped until I was toe to toe with her.
She’d stood once she saw me coming towards her, quickly dropping the magazine on the table and squaring her shoulders.
“So tell me,” I said, eyeing her. “What’s your malfunction?”
She moved forward, putting her face into mine before poking me in the chest.
“He’s mine,” she hissed. “I’ve been waiting for him to come back. I had to give him time because of his handicap. He was so good, he’s worth the wait.”
I scrunched my eyebrows at her. “He’s not handicapped. And if he wanted to be with you, he’d have been with you. His dick wasn’t affected, it was his leg. And Foster doesn’t do things half assed. If he wanted you again, he’d have had you. Which means only one thing. He doesn’t want you.”
I heard the lock on the door click open, and heard the tink-step of Foster walking into the room.
Did I turn around and face him?
No.
I stayed looking at Alice, who also kept her eyes on me.
“I’ll just let you know now that I won’t give up,” she hissed quietly before she backed up, picked up her phone and keys from the coffee table, and walked around the table as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
When I turned around, I was stunned to see that Foster was going out into the hall with her instead of coming to me.
Just…what?
As I watched the door close behind him, I turned on my heel and went back to my wheel, wetting my hands once again, and finishing my vase.
Charlie Foxtrot Page 12
