His throat was slit from ear to ear.
Blood seeped into the couch as his hands clutched desperately at his throat.
“Dispatch, I have a 217. I need the FD. Priority one,” I said urgently, dropping down to my knees beside the boy and picking up a blanket that was on the floor by the couch.
Code 217 was an assault with intent to murder. If I’d ever seen anything, this was intent to murder. On a grand scale.
“Hold this on the wound,” I said. “I’m going to clear the house.”
Normally, I would’ve done that first, but the scared look in the boy’s eyes had me breaking protocol all over the place.
I touched his head and walked slowly to the back bedrooms.
The hallway from the living room had two ways I could choose. Left led to a single door on the very end that was closed, and right led to a bathroom that I could see straight into, and a bedroom with the door standing wide open.
I could see a girl’s legs, covered in bright pink princess socks on the floor, and bile rose in my throat.
Oh, Jesus.
I moved slowly, pieing the corner as I came up to it.
The term ‘pieing’ was said when a person, such as myself, backed up until he could see around the corner, but the person on the other side could not. It was meant to offer protection as well as give you an idea what was on the other side without exposing your head or anything vital.
My eyes swept the room in a fast arc before I dropped down to one knee beside the little girl.
I was so relieved to find a heartbeat that I nearly dropped my gun.
The only thing that seemed wrong with her was the fact that she had a large goose egg on her forehead.
That’s when I saw the other girl.
The teenager who must’ve been the one to call.
She was beaten to a pulp.
Her face, arms, and legs were a mass of bruising, standing out starkly against the white nightgown that was covering her body.
A nightgown that had been shucked up to her waist.
Luckily, though, it looked like the act had been interrupted because the girl’s panties were still in place.
After checking the teen for a pulse, I took a blanket from the bed and gathered the little girl off the floor before placing her in the very corner of the room beside her sister. Then covered both of them with the blanket.
Then I went to the last bedroom.
Luckily, that room was clear.
I went back to the front room and checked the boy who was still amazingly awake.
“They’re all right, boy,” I said to him.
“Dispatch, the scene is secure. Send in the medics. Gonna need three,” I said.
“10-4,” a relieved Blake said over the airwaves.
A flash of green caught my eye, and I realized that what the man was wearing was a near exact match to what the teenager had described over the phone not even ten minutes before was dashing through the apartment complex.
“All units be advised,” I said quickly. “A male subject fitting the description of the attacker just ran East through the woods behind the Royal Oaks Complex. Heading toward Main Street.”
An hour later, pumped up on adrenaline and spoiling for a fight, I pulled into the Waffle House for my lunch break.
I took a seat at the bar, ordering myself a meal before I acknowledged the firefighters who’d had the same thought as I had.
“How’s it going, Tai?” I asked the man beside me.
Tai was one of the responding medics to the scene. He was also the one to call me to let me know that all three children would be making a recovery. The two elder ones would have a rockier road than the youngest, but they’d all recover.
“I’m pissed. I can’t fucking believe he got away,” Tai said, shaking his head in denial.
I grimaced.
They’d caught one of the attackers. The one who’d been described, yet the other one was still at bay.
Still out there to do the same thing to another unsuspecting family.
The fucker we’d caught, Bruce Brenton, had refused to give up his partner.
Had also refused to talk without his lawyer, which meant we didn’t get jack shit.
The good thing, though, was that he’d be getting a really nice prison sentence. Assaulting a child was a felony, and he’d be spending a lot of time up close and personal with his fellow inmates for the next thirty years, if I had anything say about it.
I knew a lot of people, and I’d make damn sure that the man never saw another peaceful day in his life.
“I agree,” I said.
Tai’s food was placed down in front of him, followed by mine a few minutes later.
The other firemen sat in three booths at our backs, but we didn’t join in on their conversations. Both of our minds on what we’d heard and seen today.
Sometimes, the job of a police officer, firefighter, and hell, even a dispatcher, was a hard pill to swallow. A lot of times the good guys didn’t win.
A lot of times, we were the ones to pick up the pieces, and that wasn’t a very fun job.
But there were those times where the rewards outweighed the benefits. Times when the good times outweigh the bad.
Those times were what kept us going.
Kept us sane and happy. Doing the job that was every bit as rewarding as it was exhausting.
“Your dispatcher. She did well,” Tai said after he finished his food.
“She’s not my dispatcher,” I muttered, not bothering to look up from my food.
“That’s not what I heard you say to her after you got those kids to the hospital. ‘They’re gonna be alright, baby’ over the airwaves shouts ‘MINE!’ to me,” Tai said.
I shrugged. “Whatever.”
I hadn’t meant to say that.
It’d just happened, and I’d heard it from everybody who was on tonight.
Fuck me, but I didn’t know why my mouth said the things it did.
I just felt like she’d want to hear it.
Next time, though, I’d make a point of actually calling her instead of saying it over the radio.
***
“Have you ever seen Final Destination?” Blake asked as I was driving her home later that night.
How I’d been the one to end up with her in my car, I didn’t know. But it was the last thing I wanted to do. Especially with my mind in the state it was in.
What I really wanted to go do was go for a nice long run. A run where I tried to outpace my troubles.
I shook my head. “No, why?”
She pointed to the log truck in front of us.
The man was trying his hardest to stay on the road, but the wind from the impending storm was really throwing him all over the place.
“That,” she pointed. “That right there. Every time I see a log truck, I think of that movie. The whole point of the movie is a couple of kids trying to cheat death. There was an order to it, and death went in that particular order. If it couldn’t, fate found a way to make it happen. This particular scene is showing a couple driving with a log truck in front of them. It keeps zooming in on the chains holding the logs down, and suddenly they just snap.”
I could tell where she was going with the story before she even made the snapping gesture with her hand.
“Anyway, the logs start falling off the truck, and it’s like a chain reaction. Person after person dies. A brutal, horrible death,” she whispered.
My eyes moved to her face quickly before returning to the log truck.
“I don’t like thunderstorms,” she said after a while.
Since I didn’t know what to say to that, I stayed quiet.
Was that why she had a phobia of driving in the rain?
When we’d gone to pick her up the other day for dinner, I’d thought it weird that the Chief had asked us to ride together. Now, though, I knew it was for Blake’s benefit, it made a little more sense
.
David had point blank asked the Chief if Blake needed a ride, and the Chief had purposefully told us to ride together so Blake didn’t have to ride with David alone, and so she didn’t have to drive herself in the rain.
The man was thoughtful, watching out for her left and right.
The curiosity, though, was killing me.
“Why don’t you like storms?” I asked finally, not able to stand not knowing anymore.
She sighed.
“When I first got my license, I was driving home from a friend’s house during a really bad storm and I wrecked my car. I ended up nose first in a ditch that was filled to the brim with flowing water, and stayed trapped in it for over six hours,” she explained. “My car was the color of the water. A deep hunter green. I blended in, and I was in a part of town that no one could hear my yells. Freaking lightening was touching down all around me, and I was so scared it’d hit the water and travel down toward me. It was the worst experience of my life.”
“PTSD,” I said softly. “That’s what it sounds like.”
She pursed her lips. “Maybe. But it doesn’t hinder my daily living any. I just really, really don’t like driving in rain. Or storms, period. That doesn’t mean I cower into a ball when one comes around. I will still drive in it, I just choose not to if I have the option.”
I nodded. “Maybe that’s it.”
She frowned at me, but her scowl lacked the punch it would’ve normally had since the sky chose that moment to really let the sky open up.
Rain poured down.
Big, fat drops.
It was pouring down so hard that I had to slow the truck to allow the windshield wipers to keep up.
“This. I don’t like this,” she said, gesturing to the windshield and the weather beyond.
“Hmmm,” I said, pulling down the same street that I’d been on just twenty-four hours ago.
I pulled into her driveway and pulled up as far as I could before I put it into park.
“Do you… do you want to come in?” she asked.
Her voice sounded so hopeful, and even though my mind was screaming yes, I knew what really needed to be said. “No. I’m sorry. I have somewhere to be.”
***
Blake
I closed the front door, tears threatening to pour over my lids as I locked the door.
Why was I so undesirable to him? Why, at the mention of coming inside, had he flinched like I’d asked him to shoot himself in the foot?
What was wrong with me that no one wanted to be around me?
None of my friends from high school spoke to me anymore.
If David hadn’t been so controlling, had been nicer, or more fun to be around, I wouldn’t have had to choose him over my friends. I’d have someone to share my fears, hopes, and dreams with. Have a girlfriend or two to hang out with, to complain about how my ex ruined my life.
I, of course, had my parents.
But they weren’t the same.
I just wished for… someone.
Someone who’d be there for me.
Someone who’d give me a hug when I needed it.
Like right fucking now. I needed a hug in the worst way.
Thunder rolled, and my heart pounded.
“Boom goes the dynamite!” Boris yelled.
Knowing I wouldn’t be getting to sleep anytime soon, I went to my back room and did the only thing that I knew would help me find relief.
Chapter 7
Never, ever, trust men. They’re all the same. Big ‘ol buttheads.
-Blake’s note to self
Foster
“I cannot believe you’re making me do this, Uncle Darren. This is Missy’s job. Seriously, I’m going to give every single one of your SWAT team food poisoning, and then where would you be?” that voice said.
The voice that gave me an instant hard-on.
The voice that’d been teasing me for weeks over the airwaves.
The voice that I wanted screaming my name with me pounding her to oblivion.
“Missy gave you very detailed instructions. All you have to do is right here,” Chief Rhodes said to Blake.
I’m glad that I never did anything with her… or to her, that would’ve brought his wrath down on my back.
It was a good thing to know. Considering it’d been my intention to seduce her… and possibly keep her.
“Alright, I’ve got the biggest pot I could find, boiling with water. Now what?” she asked, running her finger over a piece of paper at her side.
I glanced at Chief Rhodes and nearly laughed when I saw him flipping through what looked like a Guns & Ammo Magazine.
He wasn’t even paying the least bit of attention to her.
Leaning against the doorjamb, I continued to watch as she brought out a large paper bag that had ‘Fisherman’s Cove’ on the side.
Peeking into the bag, she squeaked and stepped back, letting the bag drop to the floor.
“Oh, my God! They’re all over the floor, Uncle Darren!” Blake squealed.
The Chief didn’t even look up from his magazine.
“Pick them up,” he said distractedly.
The lobsters, all fifteen of them, started crawling around the kitchen floor.
“Uncle Darren, you big bastard,” Blake hissed.
The Chief smiled. “Did you read this article yet?”
“Which one? The one on the fifty caliber AR-15?” Blake gasped, stepping to the side of a crawling crustacean.
“That one. Do you see how far the shot knocks him back?” the Chief laughed.
“About as far as I’m going to knock you if you don’t fucking help me,” she growled, dancing on the tips of her toes and shaking her head.
I scanned her body, taking in everything in a glance.
Her hair was up in a messy bun on top of her head, stray hairs falling out every which way.
She was wearing blue jean shorts that just barely covered her ass, and a white tank top that said, ‘I make dirt look sexy.’
Her legs were long and toned.
They were deeply tanned, but you could tell that they were tan from being outside, and not a tanning bed.
She had a suntan line at her ankles from what looked like socks and shoes.
Her toes were painted lime green, and she was wearing a pinky toe ring.
The whole outfit was outrageous, but it fit Blake’s personality perfectly.
“Need help?” I rumbled from the doorway.
The Chief didn’t look up, but Blake did.
And she looked stunned.
“What are you doing here so early? Dinner’s not ready yet,” she snapped.
I held my hands up.
“I’m here because I’m supposed to drop these off,” I said, waving a stack of folders in her direction.
My eyes roamed the front of her, zeroing in on the way her pink and white bra straps showed from under her tank.
She narrowed her eyes and effectively dismissed me by turning her back on me.
I guessed, though, that it was because she was hiding the way her nipples pebbled in reaction to my gaze.
Well, I’ll take that as she was happy to see me.
The Chief finally stood and walked over to me, stepping over a lobster as he went. “You have one escaping into the kitchen,” he said on his way out.
I followed him, smiling at the curse she tossed at his back.
“You’re mean,” I laughed.
The Chief looked over at me and winked. “She needs to be challenged sometimes. And she’s stubborn as hell. If I hadn’t given her something to do, she’d just be worrying.”
He led us to the backdoor, and out onto the deck.
“Worrying about what?” I asked.
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Her house was broken into last night. They took a couple of things. Little stuff. A vase she got for her wedding, and a picture album. Her computer was wipe
d.”
I pursed my lips, thinking about what he said. “Is it related to the ex?”
He shrugged. “David was on shift last night, so we know it wasn’t him. The girlfriend had an alibi. Not that I accused them of anything, but she made sure to offer one up.”
I nodded.
My eyes scanned over his backyard.
It was nice.
Large.
Everything that I didn’t want.
I wanted wide open space. I didn’t want a place that was confined by a fence.
I wanted to be able to walk out my back yard and not see a neighbor in sight.
What I also wanted was for my brother to stop worrying about me.
I’d been living with Miller and Mercy ever since my accident, and you’d think I was their child with the way they treated me.
Always making sure I was alright. Making sure I had every uplifting hand they could offer.
“Here,” I said, handing over the files to him.
He took them, flipping them open and looking through them.
“Thanks,” he sighed. “I was hoping to stay away from work for the next couple days, but I had a hunch and I was curious.”
I raised my brow, wondering if he’d expand on it.
Which he did in the next second.
“David’s girlfriend seemed really jittery when I ran into them at the diner, and there was something she said about the break-in that made me wonder. So I had my secretary run her name in the database for me. Thanks for bringing them, by the way. I needed to help Blake with the lobsters,” he said, laying the first file out on the table before he scanned it.
It sure looked like he was doing a lot of ‘helping.’
Not that I would get into that. Not with the chief of police, anyway.
The man was my boss, after all. I wasn’t stupid.
“And what’d she say that had you questioning her?” I asked, taking the bait he was handing me.
He shrugged. “She was so adamant that she ‘didn’t do it’ that I started to not trust her word. So I had her and the friend, the one who was her alibi, checked out.”
“And?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing. Neither can be confirmed. It could be possible that they were with each other, but it could also be possible that they weren’t, and that the friend is just covering for her.”
Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set Page 86