Rebel Rook: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World)

by Ren Alexander

  However, Talia stops and sends her arms around my neck, hugging me. Against my T-shirt, I feel her naked tits shaking before I hear the sobs.

  I rub her back. “I didn’t mean to. Christ. Why didn’t you move?”

  Against my neck, Talia tearfully says, “Because I love you so much.”

  I sigh. “I love you too, but if…”

  “I don’t care.”

  I scoff, “Shit. I might.”

  Her crying takes flight, and she soaks my neck and T-shirt. I grab her shoulders even though she resists in vain. I try to look into her eyes, but she denies me with every attempt. “Talia, why in the hell won’t you talk to me? And why wouldn’t you care? It would change our lives.”

  Limp, I fall out of Talia as I wait for her to answer. Grabbing my hand, she unexpectedly guides me up her dress, dipping my finger into her. Confused, I watch her then take my hand and smear me across her breasts. I gawk at my cum clinging to her bronze skin in the glow from the streetlight on the sidewalk. I look up at her face, unsure if she has a specific reason for doing that or if she’s lost it.

  Drying her cheeks, she sniffles and pulls up the front of her dress, covering herself. She then leans in, kisses me, and whispers, “I love you, Dylan. Remember that. I promise you, baby. Please believe me.”

  I return her kiss. “I love you, Talia. No matter what. I promise that, too.”

  She nods against my head. “I hope so.”

  Now I feel like shit because I gave her something tangible to worry about. “I wouldn’t leave you.” I move my head to see her face and brush hair out of her eyes.

  Looking at my chest, Talia bites her lip before saying, “I know you wouldn’t leave me over that.”

  I tuck stands of curls behind her ear. “I’ll come here after work in the morning.”

  Talia’s eyes widen, surprising me. “No. Just stay home. You’ll need to get some sleep.”

  “I can sleep when you’re gone. I don’t want you to be alone so much.” Her phone dings, signaling another round of texts, and I glance at the clock. “Shit. We’re late.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “But I do. I’m not you. Taggart will gleefully hand me my balls.” I nudge Talia, and she reluctantly moves off me. As I stand to pull up my pants, I smirk. “At least we had this one chance to use them.” Talia stares at me but says nothing. Picking up my phone from the end table, I see no messages from Taggart, which is fucking weird when she’s been bombing Talia all night. I thought I’d receive some flying shrapnel.

  Leaving my jeans open, I walk over to Talia. “I’ll use the bathroom and head out. Don’t forget your underwear. Damn. You shocked the hell out of me.” Smiling, I kiss her on the cheek, tasting the remnants of her salty tears. My smile falls. Maybe I’m the problem, and she won’t admit it. I’ll do anything to make her happy. If only they taught that in training.

  Chapter 25

  Natalia

  Knocking on the door, I swipe away the last tear I’ll shed. I won’t let him have the satisfaction.

  The door swings open, and Tristan frowns. “Where in the fuck have you been? You wouldn’t answer my texts.”

  Numb, I glare at him in the sharp porch light. Pulling the door open, he allows me to enter, and I scrounge around for every ounce of courage or idiocy I can before going inside. The living room is large for an apartment and smells painfully familiar.

  Tristan shuts the door and says, “I thought you might have changed your mind.”

  I avoid looking at him as I study the myriad of law enforcement books sitting on the built-in shelves above the couch. His furniture is newer than mine, which I inherited after my mother died.

  “Can I take your jacket?”

  With my hands in my pockets, I ignore him as I examine the myriad of trophies and awards on another shelf. Something is eerily amiss, and it sets my heart racing faster.

  “What are you wearing, anyway?” Catching me off guard, he pinches my sweatshirt, and I twist my body so his hand falls. “What’s under there? Another damn shirt?”

  “None of your business,” I snap, sliding closer to the door.

  Tristan points to my legs. “You’re wearing layers? What the hell is under those jeans? That’s extreme. I mean, you afraid I might touch your naked body or something?” He smirks at my agony, which only inflames me more. I pull the jacket tighter around me, making Tristan frown. On him, the blue-and-gold UCLA T-shirt squawks entitled douchebag and is more pretentious than it should be. “Did you double up your underwear too?” I scowl at his amusement, and Tristan laughs as he walks backward toward the kitchen. “Well, you’ll have to lose it all at some point. House rules.”

  Seeing he’s unsuccessful at easing my discomfort, he rolls his eyes before disappearing into the kitchen. “You want something to drink?” Tristan enquires from somewhere behind the cabinets. “I have tequila, vodka, and wine. My former roommate and Joy Spring’s resident porn star with a badge took all the beer.” Dylan. How could I have forgotten?

  Swallowing, thinking of all the shit I’ve done that will ruin Dylan, I let the faint scent of him burn through me like a wildfire as punishment. While I’m with Tristan, Dylan is all over me and in me. That knowledge will calm me, even as it kills me.

  Tristan returns and hands me a glass of something. When I grace him with a look of disdain, he shrugs. “You didn’t answer, so I made an executive decision.”

  Holding onto my jacket like it’s my cocoon, I make no move to accept the drink. Tristan sighs. “Whatever, then.” He sets the glass on a table and puts out his hand, indicating the hallway. “After you.”

  Staring down the hall as if it’s a barrel of a gun, a view I know well, I shake my head. Tristan says, “That’s why you’re here, right?” Frozen in place, my body trembles, despite the layers of clothes in a California winter. Tristan prods my shoulder, and I jump away from him as if he used a hot poker. He purses his lips. “Come on, Natalia. At least just go in there and sit. We can chat. It’ll be fun.”

  I glower at Tristan as he somewhat patiently waits for me to go first. With colossal regret, I walk as if I’m heading to the electric chair. I wish I were.

  Along the way to his bedroom, I pass an open door to an empty room. Dylan must have slept in there. His scent transports me back to an hour earlier when I fucked him for selfish reasons, taking part of him with me. Filthy whore. Unforgiving chills assault me. I feel colder than I ever have before.

  Entering Tristan’s bedroom, there’s a king-size bed, higher than a standard version. I wouldn’t have expected anything less. His dresser sports a large mirror, which reflects my misery. My shoulder-length hair is down and hides my face more, but I don’t have to see my heartbreak to feel it. Glancing again at my reflection, I hate how much I resemble my father, despite the difference in our skin tones. His existence has soiled me. It makes me appreciate my mother so much more.

  Tristan looms behind me like he’s afraid I’ll run. “I bought new sheets just for you.” He drapes his arm around my shoulders, and I twist out of his hold as I murder him with a look.

  “Natalia, you’re here for a reason. I thought…”

  “Stop pressuring me,” I argue, and he relents somewhat. I press my thighs together, treasuring Dylan’s presence and shield. Letting that calm me, I relax some. But I notice, next to a pile of papers, the holster on the nightstand, displaying Tristan’s gun. Though he’s not holding it to my head, it’s a menacing reminder of what could happen if I don’t play nice. My period was my only reprieve from Omar, so I learned to fake it so I wouldn’t have to make it, buying me days of peaceful abstinence. Though, he always made me pay for it later.

  Regardless of his claim to Dylan, I’m on birth control, so I would’ve never given birth to Omar’s child. The invention of a terrible semen allergy that could infect his dick was another saving grace because he always wore condoms. Hanging onto the phony allergy for dear life, I gave half-assed blow jobs, spitting him out or dodging h
is come, since the threat of his gun was never far if I refused to do the bare minimum. I was alone and believed I was nothing, but the dumb shit had no idea how I snowed him. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have survived.

  After I fled to California and swore off men and sex, I dumped my pills. I didn’t think I’d ever have sex again, especially without them. Until tonight. Until Dylan. I would never let my choices ruin his life and career. It was my need. My idiocy. I stole a piece of him for my peace of mind to save his life, which is the least I can do. He’s saved mine in so many ways. If my theft tonight turns into more than just peace, it’d be my best mistake.

  “You like it?”

  Thinking of Dylan temporarily removed me from the situation, and I spin at the sound of Tristan’s voice. My frown returns. “Like what?”

  Confusion crosses his face, and he gestures around us. “My room. Shit, where did you go?”

  Hugging my coat to me, I hesitate, unsure if I should scream, run, or pick up the gun and end one of us. Shaking my head along with the rest of me, I say, “I can’t be here.”

  “Why not?” When I don’t respond, he nods toward the bed, sloshing his amber drink. “Sit.” My frown is unrelenting, and Tristan loudly sighs. “Please, Natalia.”

  “No, I wouldn’t even know how,” I retort, scowling at his loft of a bed.

  “It’s not that high. You’ll love it.”

  “I already don’t.” I want to be home, with Dylan in my bed.

  Tristan sits on the edge of his bed, again gesturing to it. “We’ll start with talking. At least take off your jacket.”

  “No.”

  Tristan sighs. “Natalia, we’re fucking tonight. That’s why you’re here. Where’s Rook, anyway?”

  I shrug. “I wouldn’t know. Probably working.” Okay, so I know a little.

  “Oh, I see. The cock of the walk is patrolling the roost while you’re behind the henhouse, fighting like hell to save him from a wild coyote who’s only trying to do his job.”

  “I can’t do this.” I inhale as his mouth droops with irritation.

  “If you’re on your period, it’s fine. I’m not squeamish.”

  “No. I had sex earlier.”

  He grimaces. “Okay. So? That’s your business. You’re here now.”

  “I doubt you’ll want to fuck me, drenched in his cum.”

  “Are you serious?”

  I faintly smile, thankful to have Dylan with me. “Yeah.”

  “I think you’re lying.”

  My smile dies. “What am I supposed to do? Show you?”

  Tristan laughs. “Well, yes.”

  “Go to hell.”

  He laughs again, and I clutch my arms tighter. “You think that’ll stop this from happening? Did you even tell Rook you were using his jizz as a doorstop to cheating on him?” I look at the hardwood floor, unable to speak after hearing that word. “We don’t have to fuck for this to work. Blow jobs and hand jobs are options. I’d eat your pussy if you weren’t carrying a side of Rook with you. I’ve never had one like yours before. I bet he loves getting off in it.” Tristan’s quick frown follows him, rolling his eyes. “Obviously.”

  I seethe, “I never said I fucked him.”

  Tristan sighs as he picks up his drink. “Here we go again with this. The policy of truth is the best way to go.”

  “I’m not a fucking eighties song.”

  “Technically, 1990.”

  “I’m leaving.”

  “What? We have a deal, Natalia. We will have sex—a lot. I have an enormous appetite for you. So, you’ll either do doubleduty with both of us or put him on a diet. That’s up to you. But don’t think we can’t fuck because he creamed your pussy. Nope. Not an excuse. That’s what rubbers are for. Maybe you should make him wear one, and you get a dose of me. I’ve been told my jizz induces orgasms.”

  “That’s…horrifying. And no, you won’t dictate my sex life.”

  He tilts his head. “It’s kind of our sex life now. Threesome by proxy, maybe? A real one would be fun with you.”

  “Fuck, no to all of it.”

  Tristan sets down his drink on the nightstand and turns more toward me. “I’m not forcing you to be here or to have sex with me.”

  “You’re threatening my life. Maybe not with a bullet, but it may as well be one.”

  “That’s rather dramatic. I’m not threatening anything. I won’t hurt you…” Tristan smirks with a shrug, “unless you’re into that.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You can walk out of here. You’re free as a bird. But the truth will prevail. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “Why him? Why me?”

  “Him because he’s a danger to the department, frankly. He’s half-cocked and doesn’t give a fuck about authority. His superiors can’t stand his attitude. Do you know Taggart is his third FTO because of his insubordination? She’s his last chance. Ask Hayes. He knows.”

  “Half-cocked?”

  Tristan nods. “Loverboy throws tantrums when things don’t go his way. I know you’ve dealt with a hot-headed man before.”

  From that comment, my disdain is apparent, but I pick my battles. “Dylan would never hurt me. He’s not like that.”

  Shrugging, Tristan rolls his eyes. “I’m stating facts. It’s up to you what to do with them. Do you even know him? He’s been in with the department for three months.”

  “I’ve told you we’re not together. We’re only friends.” Maybe I don’t know Dylan well enough.

  “And as I’ve told you, that’s bullshit. I’ve seen the video proof. He stalks you like you’re a helpless calf. He probably jacks off to you in his patrol unit. I wonder if Taggart watches?”

  “Disgusting, Tristan.” Laughing, Tristan stands and walks over to me. Before I can move away, he puts his arm around my shoulders with a lingering, creepy grin. “And you since freshman English when I wanted your tail and two titties. In sophomore history class, I wanted to nail you during the Crusades. Then, in junior geometry, I imagined bending you over Mr. Lattimer’s desk to demonstrate the Pythagorean Theorem. Senior year English, I wanted you to suck my Moby Dick.”

  Wincing from the absurdity, I shove his shoulder as he kisses my neck but don’t budge him. Beneath his lips, I swallow. “I’m not a fucking joke.”

  Raising his head, Tristan laughs. “What? It’s the truth. You’re sizzling hot, Natalia.”

  “You never gave me the time of day in school.” I elbow him, but he doesn’t release me.

  “We hung out in different circles. To be honest, as Rook never is, your father’s reputation preceded you. That brat can kick rocks, anyway. I saw you first. He was in preschool then, right?”

  His hand drifts to my left breast, and I whirl out of his hold. “Fuck off. Stop touching me.”

  Tristan’s smile is almost sympathetic. “Damn it. You love the cocksucking bastard, don’t you?”

  I shake my head as my gaze falls from his face. “No.”

  “I don’t believe you. I’ve been extremely forthcoming. Not as forthcoming as I thought I’d be between your legs by now.”

  Tugging my jacket like I traded it for a strait one, I back toward the doorway. “No. I’m not doing this.” I’m an idiot like Tristan called me for thinking I could do this for Dylan’s job. I’ll figure out something else. I can’t do this to him or myself.

  As I leave, Tristan says, “Go ahead and ask your precious Lynn why she was the one who busted dear old Daddy.”

  I stop walking and spin around. “That’s not right. They busted him in a sting operation. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Uh, no. Sunnyville PD had jurisdiction, and they took him down. You should ask her about it.”

  “Lynn said she wasn’t there when they arrested my dad.”

  Tristan crosses his arms with a self-assured smirk as his gaze digs through my layers. “Lynn Taggart slapped the cuffs on him herself. The sting was her idea.” When I shake my head, he sighs. “After the
arrest, she joined Joy Springs PD. I guess she wasn’t aiming for ambiguity.”

  I stomp back to Tristan. “No. She tried to help my dad get clean. She knew he had a drug problem.”

  “Of course, he had a drug problem. His problem was he got caught.”

  “He was only an addict.”

  “Are you kidding me? Why in the fuck do you think he’s doing hard time in prison? People with addictions often go into treatment with incarceration, especially a cop. They would’ve dried him out, not sent him to maximum security lockdown.”

  “I was a kid, but I saw how using drugs affected him.”

  “It wasn’t because he had an addiction. He was a drug kingpin hiding in plain sight for years, Natalia. Arthur Perry ran the goddamn show and was on track to becoming a major player beyond California. He used his inside resources and police training to work it to his advantage. Then he got involved in prostitution, slinging whores faster than burgers in the air. Daddy was a drug lord pimp.”

  Stunned, I stare at Tristan. “No, he…Lynn would’ve…”

  “Slick, your dad outsmarted everyone, expanding his whore franchise to more cities. When Taggart found out and told him to turn himself in, Perry shoved your existence in her face and gave her the finger, thinking she wouldn’t do anything to him because of you.”

  “You know nothing, Tristan Prescott.”

  “I can’t believe you know nothing. Haven’t you talked to Taggart about your dad? Read the police reports?”

  “I didn’t have to. Lynn told me…everything.” I pace back and forth like I’m trapped in a tiny cage as Tristan watches me, probably amused. “It’s not possible.”

  “Really?” Tristan goes to the stack of papers on his nightstand. “You might be interested in your life story. Taggart’s statements are attached to the report.”

  “How in the hell do you know all this? Why are you lying to me after claiming you only wanted the truth to prevail?”

  “I do! It’s all right here! I told you I did my homework. Here’s the extra credit. Your dad was trying to save his crumbling empire from behind bars. He made deals with drugs, and…” Tristan hesitates with a frown. “I think you need to read the reports.”