Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set

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Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set Page 98

by Lani Lynn Vale


  Blake’s watery eyes focused on my face, and she smiled the first sincere smile I’d seen from her in days.

  “And there, boys, is what my daddy lived for. The thrill of the chase, and the excitement of catching the bad guy. Don’t waste time. Get out of here and be safe,” she ordered quietly.

  As if in a daze, I stood and, in front of thousands of people, I blew her a kiss. One in which she caught and placed upon her heart.

  Love you, I mouthed.

  She winked and mouthed back, I love you, too.

  ***

  “Have you told her yet?” Miller asked.

  I glanced up from my perch on the porch steps of the Chief’s home and shook my head. “Nothing to tell.”

  I took a sip of my beer, which turned into more of a gulp rather than a sip when I thought about how unfair I was being.

  Blake deserved to hear it all, yet I couldn’t find the courage to tell her.

  “There’s something to tell. She needs to hear it. Shit like this.” Miller shook his head. “It has a way of coming out. Every single time. Someone’s going to slip, and she’s going to find out what part you played in it. She’s going to know that you were the one that…” I held up my hand to stop Miller’s diatribe.

  “I know.” I sighed, rubbing my eyes the best I could with a bottle of beer in my hand. “I fucking know.”

  “He doesn’t have to tell me anything. I already know it all,” a soft, tear-filled voice called from the opposite side of the railing.

  Behind where we both had our backs.

  She’d come around the back of the house, most likely to find a little alone time, yet she’d walked into the middle of my pity party.

  Miller slapped me on the back as he passed, heading back inside to the reception that was being held in Lou’s honor.

  I turned around, placing both hands on the porch railing, beer bottle hanging from one finger I had looped around the lip.

  “What’d he tell you?” I asked softly.

  She looked stunning in black.

  I just wished I hadn’t had to see her in this dress so early in our relationship. She said she only wore it for funerals and that broke my heart.

  Her blonde hair was half up, half down, cascading down her back in a long sheet.

  Her eyes were rimmed with coal black, and her mascara, as well as eye shadow, was heavier than I’d ever seen it.

  She looked just as good now as she had when we’d left the house earlier that morning.

  “Everything,” she whispered, looking out over the hundreds of cars that lined her uncle’s street. “He told me everything… and I don’t blame you. Not at all.”

  I closed my eyes, relieved.

  So very thankful that she understood when she could’ve just as easily gone the other way with her opinions.

  “That’s good,” I whispered.

  She turned to me then, her heart in her eyes, and she smiled. “I love you, Foster.”

  She walked up to the railing and leaned up, offering her lips to me.

  “Now give me a kiss before I go deal with my mother.”

  I obeyed, leaning down to give her a kiss.

  Her lips tasted salty, as if all the salt from her tears had gathered there for me to taste.

  “I love you, too.”

  Chapter 24

  Sometimes the best part of my job is that the chair spins.

  -E-card

  Blake

  “Who was on the phone?” I asked, plopping down on the couch next to him.

  I’d just finished washing my hands from my latest attempt to throw a pot. It was the fourth time I’d screwed one up this week.

  My mind was on different things, and I caught myself staring into space for long periods of time, thinking about all that had happened over the last week.

  “Um… nobody. The Chief called a meeting. Wanted me to come in in an hour,” he hedged, stripping his shirt off. “I’m gonna go take a quick shower.”

  I followed behind him, knowing he was hiding something the moment he wouldn’t look me in the eye.

  “What does he want to talk about?” I asked, following him into the bathroom.

  He was stripping off his pants as I walked in, and my eyes were immediately caught by the newest tattoo on his side.

  It was a lone flower.

  A red rose, to be exact.

  It was taking up his whole left side. He’d gotten it the second night after my father died, saying that the flower reminded him of me. Reminded him that he had something beautiful in his life, and he needed to keep his head on straight, even when all he wanted was to find those responsible for hurting my father.

  I’d thought the sentiment was quite beautiful, and I liked looking at the tattoo; especially when I knew he’d gotten it because of me.

  “Some SWAT stuff,” he answered before he started removing his prosthesis.

  I’d seen him do it so many times now that it was just routine, even though the entire process still mesmerized me.

  It simply amazed the hell out of me that he was able to adapt as he had. He acted like there wasn’t a single thing wrong with his life, even though he was living with a handicap that would’ve debilitated some men.

  Moving up until I was in between his splayed legs, I wrapped my arms around his head and pulled him to me.

  He laid his head on my breasts and breathed me in, the tension in his shoulders loosened the moment I put my hands on him.

  “You don’t have to tell me, Foster. But don’t lie, okay?” I asked softly, tilting his head up so I could see his eyes.

  He winked. “Yes, ma’am.”

  He leaned forward and placed a soft, open-mouthed kiss on my collarbone, sending shivers up my spine and straight to my nipples.

  “I still think you need time,” he rasped against the skin of my neck.

  That was something he’d been saying to me for the past few days when I tried to get him to make love to me. He’d go just far enough that I was satisfied, but not a millimeter further.

  Today, though, wouldn’t end like that. He needed the release just as much as I did.

  I grabbed a hold of his hair, pulling it back until I could see his eyes clearly.

  “What I need,” I said, running my lips down his neck to his Adam’s apple. “Is to be distracted. Something you do very, very well.”

  He growled, and I felt the vibration that started on my lips all the way down to my clit.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking,” he tried, gripping my hips so hard that it was on the verge of pain.

  I laughed quietly before grazing my teeth along the cord of his neck.

  “I know exactly what I’m asking.”

  With that, he snatched me forward and kissed the hell out of me.

  His mouth dueled with mine while his fingers found their way to the loose waistband of my pants.

  I’d yet to put on jeans… or anything that resembled presentable to wear into public, since my dad had died.

  I’d felt less than sexy.

  However, right now, I felt like a fucking queen.

  Foster devoured my mouth, then moved to allow his beard to run along the soft skin of my neck.

  Tickling and turning me on all at the same time.

  I grabbed a hold of his hair when he started to lower me to the freezing cold tile lining the bathroom floor.

  “Eeek!” I squealed, thrusting my bare ass up when my butt met cool tiles.

  His eyes smiled as he tugged my pants the rest of the way off my legs and then settled his naked body in between my splayed thighs.

  His mouth found my neck again, traveling down the length of my t-shirt until he found the bare skin of my belly, smoothing his mouth over it languidly.

  “I want to plant my baby in here,” he whispered gruffly. “I want to see you growing fat with my kid so bad my heart hurts.”

  I laughed as he skimmed his mouth up the
length of my belly until he met the underside of my left breast.

  “I’ll have to see what I can do about that,” I breathed, gasping in a fresh gulp of air when his tongue found my nipple.

  He didn’t suck it, though.

  He flicked it. Bit it. Pulled it.

  Did everything but suck it. Mostly because he knew what playing with my nipples did to me, and if he started to suck, then I’d lose my ability to focus.

  Something he liked to only do right when I was at the brink of orgasm.

  “Please.” I lifted my hips up, urging him to give me what I so desperately wanted.

  He grinned, lifting up onto his knees to push his boxer briefs down his thighs.

  My mouth watered at seeing his cock.

  As it always did.

  He really did have a perfect one.

  A thick, ruddy head followed by a luscious shaft.

  I wanted to worship it in my dreams, it was that good.

  I’d never been one to think penises were beautiful, but Foster’s was just that.

  I started to lean forward to capture the beauty in my mouth, but he stayed my movement with a palm to my belly.

  “Stay,” he ordered. “I want to look at you.”

  I didn’t know what he saw.

  I knew what I saw, though.

  My t-shirt had been pushed over my breasts, just barely revealing my rosy nipples to his gaze. My bare ass was pressed against the still cold tile, I’m sure completely clashing with the dark brown mosaics.

  Then there was my hair.

  Up in a messy bun that hadn’t been brushed in a day or two, my hair was a disaster.

  Yet, Foster never once complained. He thought I was freakin’ beautiful. Something he made a point to mention at least once a day. Sometimes even more.

  And that, more than anything else, was what turned me on the most.

  Seeing the lust in his eyes was a complete turn on, and then some.

  My hand snaked from my belly down to my clit as I started to circle it with a lone finger, hoping to urge him into action with the movement.

  He didn’t move, though. Only watched me move faster and faster.

  It was only when my hand moved to my nipple, and my eyes started to close in the beginnings of an orgasm that he finally thrust home.

  It was such a surprise that I came, hard and fast.

  The orgasm that had been upon me suddenly pushed me over the cliff so hard that I screamed until I became breathless.

  He growled, dealing me punishing thrusts as he rode me through my orgasm.

  It wasn’t long until he was coming, too. Spilling himself inside of me in long, rough bursts.

  “Uhhh,” he groaned, planting himself deep and freezing.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his ass before pulling him toward me.

  He dropped down to his forearms just above me and smiled at my sleepy, sated eyes.

  “Nap time?” He grinned.

  I nodded.

  “Yeah, just have to find the energy to get there.”

  In the end, we showered together, and then he took me to bed.

  I’d thought we’d both fallen asleep, yet when I woke up an hour later, his side of the bed was empty and had been for some time.

  ***

  “You’ll let me be there,” I snarled at my uncle.

  I really wasn’t budging on this.

  After Foster had left the house so abruptly an hour before, I’d known that something was going on.

  My uncle sighed and opened the door wider, allowing me into the interrogation room.

  “Officer, my client has done nothing wrong. She’s in a delicate condition, and would like to go home to bed, where she’s supposed to be until she’s further along in her pregnancy,” the slimy lawyer said as I walked in the door.

  Foster, who’d been standing in the corner with his eyes glued to the questioning taking place a room away, stiffened when he realized I was there.

  “Blake…” he started but stopped when I raised my hand up, halting his smooth tongue.

  If the bastard thought he could fuck me and leave me sated in bed and I’d forgive him for leaving me, he had another think coming.

  Mainly in the form of the silent treatment from yours truly.

  “What’s happened so far?” I asked my uncle.

  My arms were currently wrapped around Molder who’d, of course, accompanied me to the police station via a laughing Downy.

  The man thought it was hilarious that I ‘didn’t obey Foster.’ His words, not mine.

  I just glared and refused to talk to him either.

  I did think it was the cutest thing in the world when Molder started to bother the shit out of Mocha, Downy’s K-9 partner.

  “Sorry man,” Downy said, breaking the silence. “I tried.”

  “Uh-huh. She’s all of a hundred and thirty pounds to your two-fifty. I’m sure you tried real hard,” Foster drawled.

  Downy shrugged and took a seat next to the other members of the SWAT team.

  Why they were ALL there, I didn’t know. Something I would’ve thought Foster would’ve told me. Especially since I’d thought it was agreed upon that he wouldn’t leave me out of the loop anymore.

  Regardless, though, I was here now, and I was staying until I had some answers. Answers that a certain someone wasn’t giving me.

  “Can you tell me why you have an apartment in your name when you’ve been with David here for quite a long time?” the detective asked.

  “We use the apartment as storage. We had to condense both of our places down into one, and we’ve found it’s cheaper for us to keep paying the rent since she was contracted in,” David said, explaining it away perfectly.

  “I actually looked into that myself,” the detective said. “I kind of thought that might’ve been the reason. The lease on the apartment was up two months ago. The cost of ‘renting’ the apartment was four hundred and thirty-two dollars a month, yet neither one of you had that money coming out of your accounts. Nor do either one of you withdraw any money, so if that was the case, how’d you pay for it?”

  “Uh-oh, spaghetti-o!” Downy teased, snapping his fingers in rapid succession. “O’Keefe’s got you, bitch!”

  I looked over at him, and the crazy man had pulled out popcorn.

  Where he’d pulled it out of, I didn’t know. I’d probably never know.

  Silly man.

  “Detective,” the slimy lawyer drawled lazily. “You can’t prove anything. It’s all circumstantial.”

  Detective O’Keefe smiled.

  “So you didn’t know that Quentin Ortiz was staying at your place?” Detective O’Keefe clarified.

  David finally stood up. “Listen, O’Keefe. We both have alibis for that night. You haven’t found anything…”

  “When was the last time you saw Quentin Ortiz?” The detective spoke over David, directing the question at Berri.

  I snorted, covering my mouth at the fuming look taking over David’s usually very amiable features.

  Foster’s arms wrapped around me from behind, and he rested his head on the top of mine.

  He didn’t say a word, and neither did I.

  We’d get to that later. For now, I was leaving it alone.

  “She already said she didn’t know anything!” David bellowed.

  With that, Detective O’Keefe finally gave his full attention to the man.

  “Listen here, DeWitt. I’ve had about all I can take of your mouth. How about you go on out of here and let me speak to your woman alone,” Detective O’Keefe said.

  It wasn’t what he said, but how he said it.

  “Someone go get him out of there. Bring him in here and let him watch what happens next,” Foster suddenly said.

  Chapter 25

  A female that truly loves you will stick with you until the end. Your mother that is, not me. ‘Cause I sure ain’t dealin’ wi
th your shit anymore.

  -Blake to Foster

  Foster

  “Get your fuckin’ hands off me,” David hissed, ripping his arm roughly from Luke’s grip.

  Luke shoved him down into a seat at the front, which meant he never saw that I was standing in the back.

  David growled something unintelligible at Luke, and Luke followed it up with something low of his own. “Sit down and shut up. We’re trying to fucking help a fellow fucking officer. Shut the fuck up and watch.”

  I blinked, surprised at the vehemence in his voice.

  David’s body slumped, and I was surprised at how defeated he looked.

  Wow, he truly did care about her!

  I’d had my doubts, but this proved to be something I never expected.

  I mean, how could you care about someone that was clearly lying?

  Every one of us could see it. Was he in so deep that he couldn’t?

  “Alright, Ms. Aleo,” Detective O’Keefe sat down. “We know you were involved. It’s only a matter of time before the entire thing is revealed. How about you go ahead and let us know what’s going on.”

  “You’re lying,” she hissed. “You have nothing on me.”

  O’Keefe smiled. It was a mean smile. One that he must use solely for the interrogation of suspects.

  “Your ex-husband, Emmett Aleo, was a very helpful man,” Detective O’Keefe said, leaning back in his chair.

  His posture spoke of ease and triumph.

  He had her and he knew it.

  “If you’re not arresting my client, we’re leaving,” the lawyer said, standing abruptly.

  O’Keefe stood, too.

  Then he pulled out some papers from his back pocket.

  “Your husband was very helpful, actually,” he said, offering the lawyer a stack of papers.

  The lawyer took it, and his head hung. “Fuck.”

  Well, that wasn’t very lawyer-like.

  Foster’s arms around me squeezed tightly before letting loose of me and moving closer so he could stand next to the window again.

  David glared at his back, and I had to cover my mouth to hold in the laughter that threatened to boil from my throat.

  “I bet he gets a confession from her in three minutes,” Downy said, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

  “Two.”

  “Five.”

 

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