Until Twyla

by Fox, Ella

  My gaze is still on the hot cop so I don’t miss the way he clenches his jaw and looks at Todd like he wants to strangle him before he brings his attention back to me again. Giving him a small smile, I turn and scurry away.

  Chapter Two

  Twyla

  “Sorry about tonight,” Madison says.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” I assure her. “If anything it’s me that’s sorry you felt you had to stay to help me.”

  “Don’t give it another thought. Whoever is on duty in the pool table room when that crowd is here gets help at the end of the night from one of us. Truthfully, we all feel terrible that Todd put you back there tonight. Those idiots can be handsy and rude—putting a new girl in there was shitty.”

  Madison is one of the other three waitresses on duty tonight. Amy and Georgie have already finished their areas and cleared out, so it’s just Madison and me now. Her area is done too but she was nice enough to come back to help me clean up after the mess the preppy crew left. It didn’t take me this long to clean the room on the previous two nights, but that’s because there hadn’t been booze spilled all over the damn place including on the pool tables.

  Without Madison’s help I’d be stuck here for at least another hour, so to say I appreciate her right now is an understatement. The sad thing is that she and the other waitresses I’ve worked with since I started here are the only good things about this job. Without them, I’d hate everything about this experience. Sighing, I finish wiping down the sticky handle of the last pool cue and set it in the remaining open spot on the wall organizer. Not only did the crew that was back here drinking ruin my night with their attitudes, they also left a hell of a mess. Now that we have everything back where it belongs and all the tables and chairs have been wiped down, we can call it a night. I’ve never been so glad to see the backend of a day at work as I am right now.

  Todd ignores us when we come back with the mop and rolling bucket of cleaner, so the two of us struggle to lift it up and empty it in the big sink in the back. After tossing our cleaning rags into the small washer in the multipurpose area behind the bar, we head over to the locker area in the back part of the room.

  Pulling her cellphone from her pocket, Madison reads what’s on the screen and grins. “My boyfriend is waiting out front. We’re going to head over to Denny’s— you want to come? There’s nothing quite like hot chocolate and a grilled cheese to help get over a shitty day,” she jokes.

  I shake my head and gesture down to my feet. “I’m going home, soaking my feet, taking some Advil, and going to bed.”

  “Next time then,” she says with a smile.

  Even though I nod and agree, I know that we probably won’t be working together for much longer. Todd is a jerk, and all the tips in the world can’t even change that. He puts shitty, rowdy, and rude customers ahead of his staff and that’s not okay.”

  “You’re parked out back, right?”

  I nod.

  “I’ll walk you to your car then,” she says.

  Damn. If only Todd were as nice as the waitresses. This girl has gone above and beyond tonight—I’m not going to make her wait for me any longer. “I’m good,” I assure her. “You know Todd walks us out to the parking lot and waits until we’re in our cars before he comes back in and locks up behind him.” He does this because he lives above the bar, which I’m a little envious of, especially tonight. If I lived where I worked, my commute would be non-existent.

  She gives me a sweet smile. “I know, I just thought maybe you were feeling like you want to avoid him.”

  I shrug as I unzip my wristlet and tuck my tips for the night inside. A hundred and forty-one dollars is great, but it doesn’t make up for how bad things got. “I can’t really avoid the boss,” I remind her.

  That earns me a laugh. “Good point. I’m going to head off then, but I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  Smiling, I wave her off. Once she’s gone, I take my jean jacket out of the locker and put it on. Sliding the strap of my wristlet onto my right arm, I pull my keys out of my jacket pocket and keep them in my hand. Finally, I pick up my shoes by the heels with my left hand and then head out to the bar area. Todd’s normally at the back door waiting for the waitresses when we come out from the back but tonight he’s behind the bar facing the shelves that line the back wall.

  “Should I wait for you to be ready to go or are you busy?” I ask.

  “Busy,” he grunts. “You’re on your own. Handle’s already locked—just pull the door shut tight behind you.”

  Great, he’s pouting and now I have to walk into the dimly-lit parking lot by myself. I hate him a little bit more now.

  “See you later then.”

  He doesn’t turn around when he says, “Sure.”

  If the wall of liquor lining the area behind the bar weren’t a giant mirror, I’d be giving him the finger right now. It’s passive aggressive and shitty of him as a boss and a man to make me walk out there alone, but it is what it is. Turning away I mouth the word asshole as I head toward the back door. Pushing it open, I step out into the night. It feels darker back here, creepier somehow. Clutching my keys tight in my hand, I hurry across the pavement to my silver Honda Accord. My already aching feet scream in protest with each step but I just keep going.

  Taking the last few steps to my car, I click my key fob to unlock it. As I reach for the handle, something slams into me, mashing me up against the car. I let out a scream when I realize this isn’t some random object that slammed into me—it’s a person. The scream dies a quick death when something is jammed against the back of my head.

  “Scream again and I’ll blow your fucking brains out,” an angry voice threatens.

  I still, shock coursing through me as I silently replay his words. My God. Is he pointing a gun at me?

  “That’s right bitch, there’s a fuckin’ gun against your head.”

  “You can have my tips,” I blurt.

  “Oh, I’ll be taking far more than your tips,” he promises.

  The arm he has across my stomach is like a steel bar. I let out an oof sound when he easily lifts me and walks two spaces down to a black car I’d foolishly assumed had been left in the lot by a too-drunk-to-drive customer. I’m not even sure I’m still breathing when he opens the rear car door and starts trying to shove me in. I forget about the gun, forget about everything, really, as I start to struggle. If he gets me into that car, the worst will happen.

  “No!” I scream. “Stop!”

  I feel the gun disappear from the back of my head, but the relief of that is short lived. Instead of letting me go, he slams the butt of it down on my scalp. The pain is shockingly brutal and my head immediately begins to throb so badly that my vision goes a little gray around the edges.

  No, you stupid bitch, I mentally shout at myself, you do not get to pass out. The only option is to fight like hell.

  I kick my legs out, bracing one against the rear seat and the other against the door for leverage before I push back with all of my mite.

  “Now you’ve fucking done it,” the man snaps as he struggles to push me forward.

  I know I’m dooming myself here, but I know that not fighting is something I can’t do.

  I struggle harder, the bottom of my aching right foot screaming in protest as I slam it against something the car. Hearing something clatter to the ground, I say a prayer that it’s his gun. Without it, he’s not as much of a threat. I pull my foot back and kick it forward again, letting out a victorious scream as I land on a fully solid surface. I push back with every ounce of my weight, ignoring the cracking sensation in my foot as I wiggle like a frantic cat in an effort to try to escape his grip. When the back of my head connects with his face, the pain at the back of my head is excruciating. Between being hit with a gun and slamming my head against his face, my head feels like I’ve gone ten rounds with Ali.

  “My goddamn eye! What the fuck you stupid cunt,” he yells, his tone murderous.

  I fight
harder, knowing that this is my best chance to get away from him.

  “Let go of the girl and put your fucking hands up now,” a voice thunders.

  Chapter Three

  Jensen

  I keep walking back and forth from the front of the building to the rear waiting for Twyla to come out. The way the owner treated her earlier didn’t sit right with me and I want to make sure she’s okay. So far only one of the waitresses has come out the back door—the others all left out the front. The back lot is so fuckin’ dark I’m glad that damn near all the waitresses have gone out the front—although the ones that went out that way were all picked up.

  I’d be flat-out fucking lying if I said I’m not worried that Twyla might have a boyfriend coming to pick her up. The second I set eyes on the beautiful blonde angel with the amber colored eyes, sensuous curves, and the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen, I was done for and I’ve been reeling for nearly ninety minutes because of it. I felt something when she looked at me, something the assholes I work with call the boom. Three of my fellow officers, Nico, Leo, and my partner John, are all firm believers in this boom thing. They swear that when it happens, you’ve met your person. I’ve laughed the whole thing off for years, but something happened inside that bar between Twyla and me. I want to know everything about her, the sooner the better. Since I was here tonight with Nico and a small group of new recruits, he saw how I was acting with Twyla in the pool table area.

  “You’re up,” he laughed.

  Sipping the bottle of Bud I’d been nursing for nearly an hour, I gave him a look and feigned ignorance. “I’m up? What does that even mean?” I grumbled.

  “It means you just felt the boom,” he answered. “Don’t even try to bullshit and tell me that’s not what I just saw. You were looking at that girl as if you were four or five seconds away from throwing her over your shoulder and getting her out of this bar because you don’t think it’s a safe enough place for her.”

  He was right about that. I wanted to kick the owner’s ass in the worst fuckin’ way, and knowing that Twyla worked for someone that didn’t give a shit about her personal safety did not sit well with me.

  “Get used to that shit,” Nico said dryly. “After the boom you’re always thinking about your woman. Best fuckin’ job in the world though.”

  Thoughts of the so-called boom are halted by the sound of a scream. I’m a cop, which means my senses are always engaged, but this is different. I know to my bones that Twyla is the owner of that scream, and the need I have to protect her is one thousand times more intense than how I feel when I put my vest on five days a week. That shit is intense, but this is something else entirely. If someone hurts Twyla, I’ll lose my shit.

  I take off running toward the back at high speed, my only priority being to save her. As I run I pull my weapon from the holster on my hip and give quick thanks to the powers that be that I took it out of the locked compartment in my glove box and put it back on when I got out of my car to wait for Twyla to come out from the bar.

  Coming around the side of the building, I mutter a silent curse about how fucking dark the lot is. The two lights against the building do fuck-all to illuminate the area, which makes this harder. The best light is provided by the lot of the auto body place that backs up to the bar lot, and thank God they actually have lights in their area or I’d be fucked right now. As soon as my eyes adjust, my blood turns to ice because a man in a ski mask is trying to shove Twyla into the back of a mid-size black car. The only positive right now is that the car isn’t on. My heart stops beating when I see that he’s got a gun pointed at her head.

  I can go in guns blazing, but if he shoots her, it will be because I went in half-cocked. It kills me to stop for even five seconds, but I have to because it could mean the difference between life and death for her. If something happens to me before I can take this fucker down the odds of her getting free would be nearly zero. Ducking behind a dumpster, I pull out my cell and pull up the group chat I’ve got with Nico, Leo, and John.

  911 starlight bar rear lot perp has gun. Call 911 I’m going in

  Shoving the phone back into my pocket after pressing send, I stick my head out to make sure the guy is still facing the other way. Seeing that he is, I spring into action and start making my way toward them as silently as possible. My heart is lodged in my throat with every step I take, and watching Twyla struggle is making me sick. I’m glad that she’s doing it but also freaking the fuck out because this shit is seriously dangerous. The sound of something hitting the ground is like music to my ears because I know exactly what it is. I’m positive he just dropped his gun but since I’m not sure that’s his only weapon I need to be careful.

  Twyla lets out a shriek as she pushes back against him, slamming her head against his face. He yells and calls her a stupid cunt, but she has him on the ropes and I’m oddly proud of her for being such a scrapper. Coming up behind the asshole holding onto her, I press my gun against his back. If I were in my uniform, I’d lose my job for breaking procedure and introducing myself into the situation like this but I’m off duty and that means this fucker is in for it.

  “Let go of the girl and put your fucking hands up now,” I order.

  He goes stock still, the feeling of my gun pressed against the center of his back a warning he can’t ignore.

  “Look, man,” he starts, “you can take her money, just let me fuck—”

  Red clouds my vision as anger like I’ve never felt races through my veins. I’ve never wanted to pull the trigger before, but right now, if I thought I’d get away with it, I’d be damn tempted. “I’m a cop, you piece of shit. Put. Her. Down. That isn’t a request.”

  I’ve arrested enough pieces of shit that I recognize the exact instant he realizes he’s fucked. He lets go of Twyla, but he doesn’t do it gently. She lets out a yowl of pain as she touches the ground, and I vow to make him pay for that. Every instinct inside of me is shouting for me to go to her but I literally can’t. I need to get this piece of shit down on the ground so that there’s no chance he can hurt her any more than he already has.

  The sound of distant sirens approaching is like music to my ears as I grab his arm with my free hand and twist it behind his back.

  “On your fucking knees,” I bark.

  He drops down with a curse, but I’m not even listening. Backup will be here any minute and I’m going to make every second alone with him count. Normally I’d tell him to lie down and put both hands behind his back but that’s really for his safety and in this situation, I don’t give a fuck about that. Using the arm I have pulled behind his back for leverage, I slam him forward, a cruel smile twisting my lips when he cries out as he hits the ground. I’m on him in a second, ordering him to put his other hand behind his back. When he does, I jam my knee into the center of his back to hold him in place.

  I take the opportunity to look back over my shoulder at Twyla. She’s sitting on the ground against the car, crying, but she’s alive and that’s what matters. Even in the darkness, I feel a jolt when her eyes meet mine. “Police are coming, babe. Stay strong.”

  Only when she nods to I turn back to the piece of shit who terrorized her. When I do, I place my gun against his head.

  “How does it feel?” I snarl.

  The sound of him sniffling beneath his ski mask does nothing to dampen my anger. Reaching up, I grab his head and then slam it against the concrete. There’s no time to repeat the motion since the on-duty cops have arrived, the lights of their squad cars illuminating the parking area. The first cop out of their car is Leo and he races to me at top speed, gun drawn and pointed at the perp. With his free hand, he reaches to his belt, pulls off his pair of black nylon zip-tie handcuffs, and throws them down to the ground next to me. Only after four more guns are pointed at the soon-to-be-spending-an-eternity-in-the-Tennessee-prison-system asshole do I holster my gun. Picking up the double zip-tie cuffs, I put them on the perp. I’m not gentle about it, and I don’t give a fuck if it cuts off his ci
rculation. This would-be-rapist deserves no niceties.

  I push down against his back with my knee one more time as I get up and let Leo and the other officers take over. I stay until they pull the ski mask off at which point every officer on the scene starts cursing. The guys name is Elias Kemp, and pretty much all of us have arrested him at some point. He’s been arrested for vehicle thefts, home invasions, liquor store robberies, burglary, drug possession, possession with intent to distribute, petty theft, assault, kiting checks, identity theft, public intoxication, and most recently, arson. Sexual assault is pretty much the only thing he’s never been charged with, so seeing him here right now isn’t good. It’s not necessarily surprising though because his crimes have gotten steadily more serious as time has gone on. Anyone else would be in a cell already, but not this fuck. His millionaire piece of shit grandfather keeps bailing his ass out, both literally, with bail money, and figuratively, with the best lawyers money can buy, so somehow, some way, this bastard always skates with the minimum sentences.

  His entire life has been handed to him on a silver platter but it’s made no difference. He could buy half the damn city with one call to his grandfather but instead he steals. Something is seriously wrong with him and tonight proves beyond the shadow of a doubt that he needs to be locked up indefinitely. This time, the charges will stick. I’ll make goddamn sure of it.

  Knowing I need to reel my anger in, I turn and look toward Twyla. One of our best female officers, Aurora, is kneeling down talking to her, and I can see that Twyla is having a hard time. Without hesitation, I go to her. “Gotta go help my girl,” I tell Leo over my shoulder.

  I cover the few feet between Twyla and me in seconds and then crouch down next to her.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  She starts to nod her head but then switches gears and shakes it instead. When she opens her arms and launches herself at me, I don’t hesitate to wrap my arms around her, holding her tightly as she shakes.