Mr. Cop: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

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Mr. Cop: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 3

by Sullivan, Piper

Seriously? “Yeah. I’m aware of that. Thanks.”

  “Make sure it’s done. Today.”

  This guy was unbelievable. “And if I don’t?”

  “Then you’ll have to answer to me.” He was tall, easily over six feet, and the way he leaned in was an intentional act of intimidation.

  “What are you going to do, continue to bully me? Big deal.”

  “Just move the damn trailer.”

  “I’ll get around to it. Eventually.” There was no way I would let this jerk push me around. That wasn’t the life I lived anymore. “Tell me what law I’m violating.”

  “What?”

  “You came over here in your official capacity as law enforcement to threaten me if I don’t move the trailer. So tell me, officer, what exact code does it violate?” He stared at me, his gaze growing darker by the second. My heart sped up at the look in his eyes. It was angry but it was also quite handsome. Stunning, really. “That’s what I thought.” Without another word, I stepped back and slammed the door in his face.

  It felt damn good to stand up for myself and I smiled. It might backfire spectacularly but it let me know that I was capable of fighting back.

  It was easy because Officer Vargas had been nothing but a jerk since he’d ambled up to me on the side of the road. He might have been handsome and brooding and sexy as all hell, but he was mean and a bully. And it didn’t seem to matter that I’d done nothing wrong. The man hated my guts.

  Which was fine by me, because I didn’t like him either.

  * * *

  “Finally!” I took a step back and smiled at my workspace. It had taken a full day to get everything set up so that I could move seamlessly from the candle station to the incense station. There was a small, much darker room, off to the side where I would make my blessing and smudging kits, potpourri bowls, and all the other “spirituality mumbo jumbo,” as my parents called it. Excitement bubbled out of me and I was eager to get to work. It had been too long since I sat down and lost myself in a day of work. I was itching to get back to doing what made me happy.

  This work allowed me to do what I wanted and to make a modest living doing it, but more than that, I was a completely self-sustaining organism. I could go days without leaving the house, as long as I had food and water.

  Which I currently did not have, and therefore needed to venture outside of my home. Since I had to do it on foot, I changed out of another pair of cutoff shorts, and changed into an eggplant maxi dress with an empire waist and slipped on my favorite hemp sandals. I felt pretty and comfortable as I started out with my patchwork purse slung over my shoulder, filled with the necessities, plus cloth bags for my trip to the market.

  But first I decided to stop for lunch at the pub I’d seen when Sheriff Henderson towed me into town. Maybe there would be someone there to talk to If not, I had my eReader. Screw credit cards; I never left home without my Kindle. Pulling open the heavy wooden door of Black Thumb took some effort, but inside, it was cool and dark, and the greasy smells hit my stomach right away.

  As soon as I jumped up on a leather stool, a blue-eyed woman with a lot of tattoos stood in front of me. “You’re new. I’m Nina. What can I get you to drink?”

  I should have expected the question. It was a common enough question in a bar but still I drew a blank. “Um, I don’t know. What would you recommend?”

  She blinked. “Wine? Beer? Booze?”

  I shrugged and leaned in. “I’ve never had a drink before so I don’t know what I like. Can you recommend something? Please?” It was embarrassing to admit, and when she asked for ID, I handed it over as heat flared in my cheeks.

  “All right,” she said with no judgment in her voice, as she returned to the table with my drink. “Let’s start with a beer. This one is dark and full bodied and it has a slightly higher ABV. Don’t make me regret this.”

  I frowned. “Um, okay. Thanks.” She was tough, that much was clear. I wondered if she’d come by it naturally or if she had to learn to be that way.

  There was something like pity in her eyes as she slid the frosted mug my way. “Why don’t you drink?”

  “I wasn’t allowed to,” I told her simply. It was true enough but it wasn’t the whole story. Then again, how did you tell a complete stranger that you’d only been born to save your older brother’s life and therefore had to always be in optimum health? You couldn’t, so I accepted her pitying smile and took a sip of the beer. It was cool and slightly bitter. “Kind of chocolatey.”

  She smiled. “Right?”

  “Your tattoos are beautiful. Did they hurt?”

  She looked down at her arm and shrugged. “Some. Sounds like you’ve experienced things that would hurt a lot more.” She stayed where she was, staring me.

  I didn’t know what to say as she sized me up. “I’m Elka.”

  “Nice to meet you, Elka. Welcome to Tulip.” Nina made her way down to the other end of the bar where two older men sat with empty beer mugs, and refilled them quickly, offering a flirtatious smile that had the old men laughing. “Guys, meet Elka. She’s new to Tulip.”

  Both men offered distracted waves which I returned meekly. When Nina returned, I ordered some food just as a loud growl sounded. “I’ll have the black bean nachos with extra jalapenos, please.”

  I ate my food alone and in silence, letting those old fears and doubts creep in. Did I really need to move so far away from home? What if a year later, I didn’t feel any different? Or, worse, what if I wasn’t any different? Those thoughts weren’t helpful, so I finished my nachos and my beer, left Nina a tip, and went on my way.

  “Hey, Elka,” she called out and I turned with my hand on the knob. “We do trivia night every Wednesday at seven. It’s a great way to meet people, if you’re interested.”

  “Um, thank you, Nina. Bye.” The sun hit my face as soon as I stepped outside, making me lift my face to the sky and smile. I slipped on my favorite sunglasses with the purple lenses and took my time walking the few blocks to the grocery store. Before I got there, I saw something that drew my attention: a statue that looked like it had seen better days. The closer I came, the more it all came into focus.

  The statue was of a woman, or had it been, surrounded by a garden with a fountain between the two. I bet it had been beautiful when it was clean and functioning, but now it looked sad. “Tulip’s Tribute,” the placard on the ground said. I couldn’t believe it. This was how they treated the memory of the woman who’d started this town? It was unbelievable and I shook my head, heartbroken, as I walked away and slipped inside the cool air of the store.

  Since I had to walk back home, I decided to pick up just a few necessities or else I’d have to stop every block to rest, turning my two-hour trip into a half-a-day ordeal. Most of the items in my cart were healthy because it had been my way of life for as long as I could remember. Every day I ate a salad, and at least three servings of vegetables too. As my mother always said, “You can’t help your brother if you’re not healthy.”

  It had never mattered what I wanted. Only Austin.

  “But that was the old you,” I whispered to myself and turned down the junk food aisle, grabbing potato chips, cheese puffs, and a variety pack of chocolates. Maybe I was a junk food person and maybe I wasn’t, but the only way to figure it out was to try.

  I smiled to myself as I paid the cashier. Look a me, living my life.

  Antonio

  Pissing off the boss definitely had its downsides, especially when that boss was also your closest friend. Tyson had given one of the other deputies the night off and put me on shift this evening, probably just to make sure I didn’t make it to trivia night at Black Thumb. And it was all because of that damn blond pixie, Elka.

  I was itching to run a background check on her, but so far, I had no legal basis for it, and she wasn’t worth risking my job. But I was a patient man; waiting was my specialty and I knew she’d give me a reason to check her out sooner or later. No one, especially not a single young woman, picked up
and moved to a small town in the heart of Texas if she wasn’t running from something. Or someone. I didn’t want to think about her running from an abusive or angry ex, so I comforted myself with the idea that she was too open and unguarded to be an abuse victim, which only left trouble.

  With a capital T.

  Still fuming about trivia night with my friends, I drove the patrol car up and down each of the blocks, making sure the citizens of Tulip were safe and secure in their homes, at the park, and even playing the last minutes of a game of tag before the sun sank behind the horizon. Trivia night allowed me to hang with my friends—people I’d known my entire life—and pretend that life was normal and good. That everything was all right.

  Several circuits of the town later, I’d stayed away for as long as I could. Now it was break time and I needed a burger and some noise. But I couldn’t shirk my responsibilities, so I took my time, looking down each street that I passed in search of any signs of trouble. Tulip was a safe town. The most we had to deal with was a few domestic violence incidents, kids doing stupid kid shit, and the occasional possession charge. Still, it never hurt to be too sure.

  A few blocks from the Black Thumb, the sound of car tires screeching drew my attention. I hit the gas. Chances were good it was a few of the high schoolers doing something stupid like drag racing, but it wouldn’t hurt to check it out. Dust flared up from the Black Thumb parking lot and I swung the patrol car into the half-pavement and half-gravel lot. A familiar figure with long blond hair flowing in the breeze was on the ground, bent over someone lying toes up, which was never a good sign.

  When I was just a few feet away, I saw exactly who it was. Elka was bent over Buddy, the owner of Black Thumb. The unconscious owner. “What are you doing?” My voice was a little gruff, but things didn’t look good for her from where I stood.

  Elka looked up, those big blue eyes feigning innocence. She opened her mouth to speak just as the front door opened and Nina and her boyfriend Preston, his best friend Ry, Mayor Ashford, and Maxine, who I’d known my whole life, walked out to take in the scene.

  “Well? What the hell did you do to Buddy?” I shouted at her, ignoring the way she flinched at my tone.

  “What? I didn’t do anything, you ass!” At my skeptical look, she glanced around at the others who were all waiting for an explanation. “I was leaving to go home because I didn’t want to have to walk by myself too late. When I stepped out, I thought I heard a scuffle around there.” She pointed to the side of the bar with very little light. “It’s a bar, so I figured it might be a woman in need of help, but when I got back there, Buddy was staggering as a dark car sped away.”

  “Pretty damn convenient.” There was no way in hell that little wisp of a thing was able to get Buddy to the front of the bar.

  “Hardly convenient. He was hit in the head and staggering all over the place until he passed out here. I didn’t want to leave him when he was unresponsive.” Her tone was sincere but I still didn’t believe her.

  “You could have called 911, or do they not teach that where you’re from?”

  Shaking her head in disbelief, Elka turned to Nina. “I dropped my purse somewhere over there when I saw him staggering around.”

  Likely story. Just like a woman to lie with a straight face and then get mad when no one believed her. “Back away from Buddy,” I ordered. Firmly.

  “I can’t,” she began with a quiver in her voice.

  “Now!” I pulled out my gun and aimed it at her. Not my best moment, but for all I knew, she was the one who’d assaulted Buddy. “Back away, Elka.”

  Her eyes welled with tears and indecision gripped her—at least that’s how she wanted it to appear. Again, her gaze went to Nina. When Elka spoke, her voice broke. “His head is bleeding. A lot. My hands are applying pressure.” Her head fell and tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Ry stepped in and eased her hands away, wincing at what he saw, her dress covered in blood. “Shit, this is bad.” His dark gaze scowled up at me. “We need a rig. ASAP.”

  Fuck. I radioed dispatch to get an ambulance here right away. “Five minutes,” I said to no one in particular and scanned the parking lot in search of signs that Elka wasn’t a liar. “Who else was inside?”

  Nina got in my personal space and I knew she would have something to say. “No one who would have stuck out. Then again, what do I know? Maybe Elka is some bank robber. I mean, why else would you pull your gun on her?” She shook her head and walked away but I heard the “Asshole” she muttered.

  Everyone else pretty much had the same thing to say. “What in the hell is your problem, Antonio? You pulled a gun on a good Samaritan.”

  She already had them fooled. “Yeah and what do you know about her that makes her so good?”

  Preston’s golden boy features darkened. “What do you know about her that makes her so bad? She’s mostly kept to herself but now I guess we all know why.”

  How in the hell did I end up the bad guy here? Preston never lost his cool with anyone, not even his overbearing barracuda of a mother. “I know her type.”

  “Yeah, well now we know yours too, don’t we?” Nina continued to glare at me from her spot beside Buddy, holding his hands while Ry checked him out. “You’re too much of a bear to do anything but be okay, Buddy. Besides, if you die, then I’ll put white wine spritzers on the menu.”

  “He’s not dying,” Ry told her confidently. “Got a hell of a crack on the head though. Could’ve been a lot worse without the pressure to the wound. Where did you—” Ry stopped and looked around. “Where did blondie go?”

  “Her name is Elka,” Nina spat out, eyes still shooting red hot daggers my way. “My guess is she went home to pack her shit and leave Tulip.”

  Good riddance.

  “That won’t happen,” Mayor Ashford assured everyone, one hand absently rubbing his belly. “Because Officer Vargas will apologize. Won’t you?”

  Yeah, when hell froze over. But that wasn’t how you spoke to the mayor, so I stared at him for a good long moment to let him know I wouldn’t be bullied. “Apologize for doing my job? I don’t think so.”

  Ry stood and wiped bloody hands on his jeans. “Then maybe you need a new career, Vargas. Buddy backed up what she said.”

  Buddy was trying to sit up and Nina helped him, being uncharacteristically sweet and caring. Not that she wasn’t a nice woman, because she was—she just didn’t wear it on her sleeve. “I’d have died back there; no one would have seen me for hours. She saved my life.” Buddy looked around. “Where’d she go?”

  All the patrons inside the bar now stood outside, some watching with too much interest, while others had their phones out because heaven forbid one event pass without it being recorded for posterity. “Gone,” someone said.

  * * *

  Waking up in a cold sweat was the perfect way to cap off what had been a disastrous damn night. After the incident with Elka, the mayor had gone straight to Tyson, interrupting dinner with his grandmother at the senior citizen home, to complain about my conduct at the Black Thumb. I had to listen to thirty-five minutes of lecture from the sheriff about professional conduct. He threatened to put me on desk duty if I didn’t “get the bug out of my ass.” After that, I couldn’t wait for end of shift.

  Not that coming home to a silent, empty home was ideal, but it was better than having my friends look at me like I was a monster. They just didn’t understand because they’d had the luxury of living in Tulip their entire lives. Some left for college, but nearly all of them had come back to start their adult lives, while I stayed in New Orleans and worked my way up from beat cop to homicide detective. I’d seen things—hell I’d done things—they would never understand. Couldn’t even dream about.

  Women like Elka were how good men ended up hurt, or worse. They lured you in with their sweet smiles and oh-so-innocent-looking eyes, and when you were well and truly hooked, they went in for the kill.

  I should know. I lived it and continued to have the nigh
tmares as proof.

  It was always the same damn nightmare over and over.

  It was the end of a long-ass shift involving a two-year-old dead from an overdose, and I was so exhausted I could barely keep my eyes open. Instead of going to my apartment on the other side of the French Quarter, I chose to go to Sadie’s apartment. We’d been seeing each other for close to a year and I spent most nights at her place because that’s how she preferred it, and I preferred to sleep with her in my arms.

  Her apartment was tiny as hell, probably less than five hundred square feet, but she loved it. I stepped inside the dark apartment and looked around, smiling at her mismatched furniture. The blue-and-white-striped chairs clashed with the yellow-and-green-checked sofa she’d picked up at a thrift shop, but it was comfortable and clean, so I didn’t give a damn. I don’t know what it was about that night that made me stop and notice the photos decorating her apartment, but I did. There weren’t many though—just one of her with her parents, a few with some of the girls she worked with at one of those private clubs for rich people, and three of us throughout our relationship. Everything about the place was tidy but slightly run down.

  More shabby than shabby chic, but Sadie made it work.

  Kicking off my shoes, I left them beside the sofa along with my coat and made my way to the bedroom. She would be sleeping by now since it was past three in the morning and I didn’t want to wake her.

  Inside the bedroom, I knew something was wrong, instantly, but I didn’t want to believe it. I shook it off and chalked it up to the fact that I’d spent the better part of four hours processing a crime scene of a baby, but I should have known better. The room, hell the whole apartment, was too still.

  Too quiet. The stifling sort of silence.

  I flipped on the light, expecting to get yelled at for waking Sadie or for me to be pissed because she was still out with her friends.

  When my eyes landed on the sight in front of me that night, I wished like hell it was either of the other scenarios. Anything would have been better than seeing her dead body tied to the bedposts, cut from throat to pelvis, eyes wide open in terror.

 

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