We’d spoken after Corrinne had been hauled back to jail, and I’d told him exactly what had transpired from the moment I’d left him in the bar to the moment I’d seen Corrinne with her stupid bottle of spray paint.
He’d, of course, known about Corrinne, but he hadn’t seen her in action until yesterday.
Needless to say, he wasn’t impressed with her just like I wasn’t.
“Nothing’s wrong, why would you ask?” I asked him distractedly.
Cool as a cucumber. See, I could do this! Outwardly, I was calm and collected.
My mind, however, was in turmoil.
“Tell me.”
I ignored him.
“Tell me.”
I kept ignoring him.
“Tell me. Tell me. Tell me!” Paxton parroted over and over again until I finally broke.
“I told him I loved him!” I roared.
Paxton, not expecting that answer, blinked in surprise.
“You did what?” he asked in awe.
“I told him I fucking loved him, okay?” I sighed. “And he said it back. But this morning he was gone. No note. Won’t answer his cell. Nothing. It’s been over five hours since I sent the message, and he’s not said a word to me. I don’t like feeling like this!”
Paxton snorted. “That’s what love is, baby girl. Sacrifice.”
I scrunched up my nose in disgust.
“I feel vulnerable. I don’t know what came over me, me telling him that. I’m out of my fucking mind,” I groaned, placing both hands on the side of my head and pressing inward slightly to alleviate the pounding that was going on behind my skull.
It didn’t work.
Paxton was a good advice-giver.
He could get me thinking straight in a jiffy, had I wanted him to butt his big behind into my business. Which I can assure you, I did not.
“Lennie, honey,” Paxton said, pulling the car into the bar parking lot and parking beside my car. “He said it back. That’s a give and take relationship. Share your feelings with him. Tell him what scares you about having a relationship. He already knows your worst, now give him your best.”
I looked down at my fingers. “I’m not sure I have a ‘best.’”
He laughed. “You do. Or you wouldn’t be who you are. Now get out of my car, go buy some cookies, and maybe drop by the police station. See if you can find him. Say hi. Try not to say ‘fucking’ when you tell him you love him.”
I gave him a dry look.
“How’d you know I said that?” I asked suspiciously.
He gave me a look that said, ‘Are you kidding me?’ And I laughed.
“Okay, okay. Thanks for the ride,” I said as I got out, slamming the door and heading to my car.
I took his advice, too.
I went to the store, got him cookies, and then headed straight to the police station.
I was all the way to the front door when what I was wearing finally made me doubt my plan of action.
I looked down, seeing my nearly transparent white wife beater, jeans that I’d cut into shorts, and a pair of black and hot pink Nike’s that caught everyone’s attention.
My hot pink racerback sports bra stuck out like a sore thumb underneath my t-shirt, and I was seriously contemplating turning around when a wolf whistle from behind me had me turning to see Michael standing four steps below.
“Don’t you know that the guys at the station will eat you alive?” Michael asked teasingly.
I smiled down at him.
“Yeah, I guess I didn’t think this quite through, but I brought cookies. And if I take them home with me to go change, I’ll likely not come back. Then I’ll just eat them. Then these shorts won’t fit,” I babbled.
That was a lie.
I couldn’t eat them.
At least not all of them.
The insulin I took gave me a little wiggle room, but not that much.
I talked when I was nervous, which was why I’d just admitted one of my greatest sins. Gluttony.
I was a habitual eater, and oftentimes I had to move up to my fat jeans because I ate too much and worked out too little.
His smile appeared, and I was struck speechless with how good looking he was.
But I admit, I did enjoy seeing him without the sleeves. The tattoos on his arms were intriguing to say the least.
“Got it. You want to come around the side? I’ll take you straight to the training room,” he said, gesturing to the side of the building with a nod of his head.
I tipped my head to the side, then nodded, carefully going back down the stairs.
I was a klutz when I was nervous, and the man currently standing at my side made me very nervous.
But in a good way.
I could see why Nikki was in love with him.
He was beautiful.
“Why do they call you Saint?” I asked by way of conversation.
I’d heard him being called that last night by the guys as they were arresting Corrinne.
Michael grimaced.
“Saint Michael. They say I’m a Saint,” he admitted. “It started the first day I went through the academy. Continued throughout, and by the time I was finished, I was dubbed that forever and always. Doesn’t matter how many times I try to get them to stop calling me that. They do it anyway.”
I snorted. “They do seem the type.”
He laughed.
Which caused me to look at him in awe.
He had a really great laugh.
He always looked so serious all the time’s I’d seen him, so it was odd to see him letting loose. Laughing over something I’d said.
“So what are they in the training room training for?” I asked as he reached for the door and held it open for me.
He waited for me to walk in before he closed the door and locked it.
“We have to have so many training hours to remain on the SWAT team. Each of us comes in here a couple of times a week and does a few rounds of hand to hand or weapons training. Sometimes we all get together and do a team exercise. Stuff like that,” Michael said as he typed a number into the keypad that led to an inner room.
“Like, surprise attacks? Do you control dummies that come swinging out of the sky and try to take them out? Like they have to kill the bad ones… like the zombies. But not kill the little girl dummies?” I asked, chattering happily.
I hadn’t even realized that he wasn’t there anymore until I turned around and saw him staring at me funny.
“What?” I asked.
Had I said something to offend him?
“Nothing. I was just surprised that you’d think of stuff like that, that’s all,” he muttered, pushing through a final door that led into a large room that overlooked a small gym of sorts.
It was similar to the one they’d made out of the old strip club, but this one seemed smaller and more compact.
“Why do you have two places like this?” I asked.
Michael came up beside me and looked out the window with me that overlooked the area below.
“This was the original. And now we use it for convenience. We already have to be here on days that we work. This is just for quick usage. The other one off the strip club is when we have a day planned out for the whole team,” he informed me.
“Ahh,” I said, leaning forward when a man in head to toe black climbed up the rope that was in the middle of the room, then quickly went back down it again.
“Who’s that?” I asked, pointing to the man.
“Downy,” he answered without hesitation.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“The color on his back. The single band of green attached to the back of his vest. Each of us has a different color,” he answered.
I blinked, surprised.
“Why would you need to know which one is which?” I asked. “Aren’t they all on your team?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. But a few years ago we had a tra
ining seminar that had to do with a large crowd. And we were watching some news feed of a few SWAT officers getting shot down by other ‘SWAT Officers’ that weren’t actually SWAT officers. They were part of the protest, and the real officers never even knew it.”
I gasped and turned to him. “Really? Holy crap!”
He nodded. “People are fucked in the head, what can I say?”
“What’s this button do?” I asked, my finger hovering over a red button in the center of the glass.
Michael smiled. “Turns out the light.”
“That’s it?” I asked, bummed that it didn’t do something cool like drop nets from the ceiling and burst out confetti or something.
“Yep,” he answered.
I pressed the button.
And it didn’t just turn out the lights!
It fucking turned it into a lightshow!
Smoke started billowing from a corner, flashing lights started streaming through the room, and really loud obnoxious music started to play throughout the area.
“Holy shit!” I breathed, really excited now. “That’s so cool!”
Michael snorted.
“How did I know you were going to press that?” he asked dryly.
I couldn’t see the men anymore because of the awesome light show, but I could hear yelling over the music.
Confusion. Amusement.
“Is this new or something?” I asked with a smile tilting up the side of my mouth.
“Yep. The Chief put it in last week. Not everyone’s gotten a chance to try it out yet. It’s supposed to help teach us about sensory deprivation and keeping our head in the game when there are outside influences trying to steal our attention,” he answered.
“Aces,” I said, smiling widely.
“I think I like you, Nox,” Michael answered just before he pressed the button once again and headed out of the room without waiting for me to answer.
“Not you, too!” I yelled to his retreating back.
His laugh followed him out of the room.
Smiling, I turned back to the window and watched the men gather into a circle staring at the leftover smoke still hovering high in the air.
They all had their masks pulled up over their faces, and I finally got my first good look at Bennett in all his SWAT glory.
Lordy me, the man looked good.
Without all the gear, he looked big. With the gear he looked massive, plus intimidating. Which was one hell of a combination.
I’d be scared shitless to see them coming at me if I was doing something bad.
I saw Michael make his way down into the middle of the room from a side door, then stop once he reached the huddle.
Once there, he spoke, gestured to the room, and pointed at me.
Bennett turned his head, saw me and smiled.
I waved frantically like the dork I was and got rewarded with a small smile from him before he slapped Nico on the back and started jogging toward the door Michael had gone through to get there.
I watched him disappear through an exit, and a minute later he appeared at the entranceway to the room I was standing in.
He’d removed his face cover on the way, and I was surprised to see that sometime in the span of him coming to bed last night, and right now, he’d shaved his hair.
“What happened to your hair?” I asked in alarm.
Not that he’d had that much in the first place, but it was enough that I could sink my fingers into it and guide his face where I wanted him to go.
He smiled and bent his head down.
“I cut it once a month. It bothers me with this heat,” he explained.
I narrowed my eyes.
“Then why didn’t you shave your beard?” I countered.
He moved until the box of cookies I was holding pressed into his chest.
“I like my beard,” he stated firmly. “And I like the way your thighs quiver when I run my beard along them. And I like the way your nipples bead when my beard tickles them. That’s why I like my beard and I won’t be shaving it.”
I blinked.
“Well, okay,” I said with a smile. “Do you want a cookie?”
He looked down at the colorful icing covered cookies and shook his head. “I don’t like those kind of cookies.”
I blinked. “What do you mean you don’t like these? They taste awesome.”
“I mean I don’t like them, that’s what I mean,” he laughed. “Now, what’re you doing here?”
I pointed at the box of cookies.
He looked down at them.
“That’s not why you’re here. That’s just a convenient excuse to come up here. What do you need?” he asked, pressing closer.
The cookies were flipped up, and I heard all the sprinkles leave their prospective cookies, but I didn’t care.
Then his mouth descended, and I really didn’t care.
All I cared about right then was the way his beard felt against the soft skin of my neck, and the way his lips traveled up the cord of my neck as he said, “Tell me.”
“I wanted to see you,” I breathed.
His mouth moved up until his lips were even with mine.
“Good,” he said. “You can come see me anytime. I like it. Just don’t bring those cookies anymore. Oatmeal or chocolate chip from now on.”
I snorted. “You’re annoying.”
He grinned unrepentantly. “You still fucking love me, though.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I still fucking love you.”
Then his mouth finally found mine, and his tongue dueled with my tongue.
I groaned and my legs started to shake.
Heat pooled in my core, and I closed my eyes in anticipation.
Just as suddenly as he was there, though, he was gone.
He growled in frustration and pulled back.
“I have to go back. I need to get three more hours before Monday, and that isn’t going to happen tomorrow since I have to go do family day. Something you will be attending, FYI,” he informed me. “And the chief doesn’t like for us to practice on Sundays if we can help it. So it’s all going to come tonight or it ain’t gonna happen.”
I scrunched up my nose at him.
“What makes you think I want to go to your family day?” I teased.
He grinned. “Nobody wants to go to family day. Hell, I don’t want to go to family day. But if I have to go, you have to go.”
I raised a brow at that backward logic. “They’re your family. Not mine. It doesn’t work like that.”
He leaned forward, letting me feel the length of his erection that most certainly was not his gun, and asked, “Are you mine?”
My eyes must’ve widened, because he leaned in more, pinning me down more completely. “Yes or no? Simple question, Nox.”
I swallowed, knowing I felt it, but reluctant to say it.
I got it out, though.
“Y-yes,” I answered simply.
He smiled, teeth and all.
“Then my family day is your problem now, too.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
No arguments here.
I kind of liked that he was telling me how it was.
Feminists around the world were probably balking at the fact, but I was happy.
Fucking ecstatic.
“Who’s picking up Reagan?” I asked, looking at my watch.
Hadn’t I heard that today was early release?
“I was going to walk her home like I usually do, why?” he asked, eyes going far away to think about why I’d asked. “Aw fuck. Today was early release for field day. Fuck! Field day!”
I smiled. “You forgot, even after she told you fifteen million times that it was today?”
He pointed an accusing finger at me. “Watch it.”
I held up my hands in surrender. “Yes, sir.”
“Fuck!” he growled. “I’m a horrible parent.”
I laughed at his plight.
“You are not. How about if I go? Then I’ll take her with me to Truman Smith. I’ll be there until eight. That okay?” I asked.
He nodded, looking relieved. “Yeah. Mom had to take my dad to the doctor today for his heart, and I knew Payton was working. Thanks.”
I smiled. “You’ll have to make it up to me… later.”
With that, I turned around and left.
I was going to make a grand exit, too, but the door that led out of the room was locked and I smacked into it face first.
I placed my hand on my forehead where it’d hit and turned around to see Bennett studying the ceiling.
“You’re such a shit,” I croaked.
He couldn’t contain his laughter anymore. “Oh, God. This is one of those times I wish I had a camera in this room. At least you’re not alone in it.”
He wiped tears from his eyes and started heading in my direction.
So, in turn, I threw the box of cookies at him, which he caught easily.
He punched in a code on a panel I’d failed to see and pushed the door open.
Then followed me until I got to the other door which he opened for me as well.
Once the outside sun was shining in my face, I turned to him and said, “I fucking love you.”
He smiled so wide I thought his face would split with it.
“I fucking love you, too.”
I stomped across the parking lot, so damn embarrassed I could barely stand it.
“Lennox!” Bennett called once I reached my car.
I turned to see him leaning against the door with his arms up high, keeping it open.
“What?” I asked.
He smirked. “I’ll make it up to you. Don’t worry.”
Chapter 16
P.M.S.
Prepare to meet Satan.
-Word to the wise
Bennett
“What the fuck is all this?” I asked Sam when he handed me a stack of envelopes that was over three inches thick.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Something from Todd. He told me to give it…”
Both of us froze when the indicator on the computer started beeping.
That computer’s only use was to house the GPS and data for the cameras that were in everyone’s vehicles, as well as around the property.
Sam moved quickly, waking up the sleeping monitor and clicking buttons as fast as his big hands would allow him to do.
Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set Page 118