Indebted

by Sharon C. Cooper

  Laz glanced over his shoulder, his hand on the door knob.

  The IA guy hadn’t moved, but said, “Detective, it’s my job to provide accountability to the department. So I have to ask these questions and get a good understanding of what happened. You’re not doing yourself any favors by not cooperating.”

  “Not cooperating!” Laz balled his hands into a fist at his side, unable to control the anger scorching every nerve ending in his body. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the past hour? Why do I have to keep repeating myself?”

  “Because a couple of witnesses have different stories.”

  “I don’t give a damn what a witness said! I’ve been on this force for over seventeen years working my ass off. All of a sudden, my word isn’t good enough?”

  “I’m not saying that. I just want to make sure we have all the facts and the whole story.”

  “I gave you the whole story over and over again. To hell with this investigation. If you want to arrest me, arrest me. If you want to suspend me, fine. If you want to fire my ass, have at it. But don’t fuck with my intelligence. I’ve given my life to this department and for what? This bullshit?” Laz slammed the side of his fist against the door. “You guys have been trying to nail me for one incident or another for years now.”

  Gaines pounded on the table, causing water from his paper cup to spill over the rim. “That’s because you keep giving us reason to!”

  Laz had been able to easily defend himself in the last five IA investigations, but he was becoming sick of even trying now. All of the questioning, the harassing, wasn’t worth it. He knew the law and department procedure, but sometimes, to get the job done, he had to skate on the edge of both.

  With other cases, he understood why they investigated, but even during those instances they only heard what they wanted to. Like the case where a perp complained that Laz had been too rough when patting him down. The guy hadn’t mentioned that he’d swung at Laz and resisted arrest while being checked for weapons.

  In another case, there’d been a complaint that he used harsh language, had a bad attitude and wouldn’t listen to the offender. It didn’t matter that the guy was crawling out of a window after sexually assaulting a woman.

  In this case, he had done everything right and still he was being questioned. He knew it had to do more with the offender being black and Laz being white. IA’s hands were tied since the community was in an uproar, but Laz refused to be harassed because of doing his job.

  “Gaines, whether you believe me or not, I did everything by the book. Mind you, I was off duty. Would you have preferred me to walk away and let the situation escalate without doing anything?”

  The investigator said nothing.

  “No, I’m sure you wouldn’t have wanted me to do that because if I had and it got back to you guys, then I’d be under a whole different investigation. I’ve vowed to serve this city whether on duty or off and that’s exactly what I did.”

  “Dimas…I’m just trying to do my job.”

  “And that’s exactly what I was doing. You know as well as anyone, when we’re out on those streets, we have to often make split-second decisions. That perp knew I was a cop, yet he ignored my instructions and fired at me. What would you have wanted me to do in that situation?”

  “I wasn’t there so I—”

  “But I was there and I told you everything that happened. I shouldn’t have to keep repeating myself.”

  “The detective is right.” The union rep finally spoke up. “He’s answered all of your questions and…”

  Laz tuned out the rest as he inhaled and exhaled a few times to get his anger under control. He was tempted to say to hell with it all and turn in his weapon and badge.

  But he couldn’t. At least not yet. There were still too many youths getting caught up in the system, and drug dealers evading the law. He had vowed that as long as he was on the force, he’d make a difference. He’d do his part in making the streets safe for kids, and more importantly, get as many drugs off the streets as possible.

  But accomplishing either objective was starting to look bleak and unattainable.

  And honestly, Laz didn’t know how much more he could take.

  Chapter Four

  Journey awkwardly shifted her laptop bag and a vase of roses in her arms as she pushed open the door to her condo.

  Maybe I should’ve accepted the doorman’s assistance when he offered to help carry some of this stuff.

  Feeling the glass vase slipping from her grasp, she quickly set it on the tall table near the entrance and sighed with relief.

  “Home sweet home,” she mumbled, flipping on the lights as she lowered her bag to the floor and then leaned against the door. “These long days have to stop.”

  Undoing the ankle buckle on her shoes, Journey kicked off the footwear, not caring that they landed in the middle of the floor. After the twelve-hour-day she had just put in, all she wanted to do was have a glass of wine, find something to eat, and then take a nice, long bubble bath.

  In the living room, she shrugged out of her suit jacket, dropping it on the sofa as she strolled to the windows, relishing the feel of the plush carpet beneath her feet.

  “This is worth every ridiculous penny,” she said of the spectacular view outside. The stress of the day slowly slipped from her body as she released a long satisfying breath.

  She stared out into the night, admiring the twinkling lights of nearby buildings overlooking the Buckhead area. Her view from the twenty-fifth floor was breathtaking, no matter the time of day, and whenever she was at home, she found herself standing in front of the window looking out. Moving in eight months ago, shortly after breaking up with her long-time boyfriend, Tony, Journey had fulfilled her goal of living in a high-rise.

  She admitted she missed her ex, especially after being together two years. But their break-up was inevitable. He wanted marriage. She didn’t.

  Journey startled when the intercom buzzed and glanced at her watch. It was after nine. Normally the doorman didn’t ring her up this time of night unless she had a visitor or food being delivered. She wasn’t expecting either.

  She pushed the button on the wall near the door. “Yes.”

  “Ms. Ramsey, sorry to bother you, ma’am, but there is a Detective Dimas here to see you.”

  Journey froze, her finger hovering over the speak button.

  What the heck is he doing here?

  “Ms. Ramsey?” the doorman called out after a few seconds.

  “I’m sorry, Frankie. Please send him up.”

  Journey glanced around. She quickly nudged her heels out of the middle of the floor, not caring that the pile of shoes in the foyer was starting to build. As she peered into the living room, she gasped at the clothing strewn on a chair, on the back of the sofa, and her chaise lounge. The cleaning lady came once a week and she certainly wasn’t magically appearing in the next thirty seconds to straighten up.

  She quickly snatched three blazers from the chair, a skirt, blouse, and jacket from the sofa. With her arms full, she glanced around frantically looking for a place to stash them, but a knock sounded at the door.

  Too late.

  After a moment of hesitation, Journey blew out a breath and dropped the items back in the chair. She headed to the door but stopped at the mirror in the foyer to check her hair. She ran her fingers through her short, permed strands before trying to smooth the wrinkles from the tail of her blouse.

  She stopped abruptly. Why the heck am I doing this? Just because he stopped by unannounced doesn’t mean I should try to make everything perfect.

  Journey yanked open the door, prepared to give him a piece of her mind for just dropping by, but that didn’t happen. Like usual, the sight of Laz screwed with her equilibrium. Her heart thumped wildly inside of her chest as he stood nonchalantly, all brawn and virile, against the door jamb.

  Why’d he have to be so gorgeous?

  “I was wondering if you were ever going to answer the door
.” Laz remained where he was as if he didn’t have a care in the world, his striking eyes sparkling with mischief.

  Swallowing hard, it took Journey a moment to form a coherent thought. “What are you doing here?”

  He pulled a small white bag from behind his back and the smell of meat, onions, and peppers delighted her senses. “Thought you might be hungry. Besides, I told you I’d catch you later,” he said in a just-woke-up-from-a-deep-sleep rasp. The sensuous tone reminded her of the night he’d come to her rescue. After calling in the crime, he had held her close, and the comforting words he whispered in her ear were soothing and calmed her until the EMTs arrived.

  Journey opened the door wider and he entered. The fresh and clean scent of his cologne drifting past her nostrils almost made her moan.

  God, he smelled good.

  “I assumed when you said you would see me later that it was just an expression. A figure of speech. How’d you even know where I lived?”

  She gave herself a mental slap the moment the words left her mouth. She rolled her eyes at the way his raised brows mocked her. There wasn’t much this man didn’t know or couldn’t find out.

  He strolled into the living room, looking around as if casing the joint. She was proud of her condo. Despite it not being overly neat, it was expertly decorated, comfortable and had killer views. She watched him stop in front of the windows.

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “What, you don’t know? You seem to know everything else.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “I could find out, but maybe I want to learn some things directly from you.”

  She stared, dumbfounded, unsure of what to say. Instead of responding, she walked the few steps into the kitchen.

  “Though I didn’t invite you here, I guess I could at least offer you something to drink.”

  One of the things that attracted her to the fourteen-hundred square foot condominium was the open floor plan. She could stand in one spot and see everything except for the two bedrooms and two bathrooms. “I have water, juice, and wine.”

  She looked back to find him eyeing her. One of her pet peeves was people who stopped by her place without calling first. Though she should be irritated, she had to admit it was kind of nice seeing him outside of work. Standing at over six feet tall and two-hundred-plus pounds, with wide shoulders, and jeans just tight enough to show off thick thighs, she could look at him all day.

  “I didn’t realize you were such a slob,” he cracked, snapping Journey out of her trance.

  “You know what? You can leave.” She pointed her thumb toward the door, trying not to laugh even when he chuckled.

  “Hey, don’t get mad at me because I speak the truth.” He sobered. “Who are the flowers from?”

  She glanced toward the entrance though she couldn’t actually see the flowers from where she stood. Neither could he, which amazed her. He’d only been in the foyer for a hot second, yet he’d probably noticed every single element in the space.

  “How do you know I didn’t buy them?”

  He chuckled again and moved away from the window. His gaze swept the open space, taking in the white, plush furniture and carpet before directing his attention back to her.

  “One, they’re sitting by the door, haphazardly on the edge of the table. If you had bought them, they’d probably be in the center of that fancy dining room table, on the breakfast bar, or maybe on the sofa table.”

  “Two,” he moved to the center of the living room, “this whole area is stark white except for a little black on the backsplash in the kitchen. The roses jump out like blood splatter on white concrete. They don’t fit in.”

  Journey just stared, fascinated by the way his brain worked. Sometimes in talking with him, it seemed as if everything was like a clue to him, and he didn’t rest until each piece of evidence was in place.

  This was the first time she’d had a man, besides her father, in her new space and at the moment, she couldn’t think of anyone else she’d rather have there.

  The thought unnerved her, yet there was a little spark of excitement jockeying around inside her gut, but she pushed the feeling down. Laz had a reputation. Though she thought—no, she knew—he was a good guy, there were rumors that he was a rogue cop. Those in law enforcement either liked or hated him. Very few people were in between. In her opinion, he was a good detective whose intentions were honorable even if they weren’t always legal.

  “And three,” Laz continued, now standing within reach of her.

  Starting from the top of her head, his eyes drank her in inch by inch and didn’t stop until he reached her bare feet. All she could do was stand there and let him get his fill, her body heating everywhere his gaze landed. This man was a detriment to her willpower and her brain function. Because with the way he was looking at her, and the lust racing through her body, all he had to do was say the word and she’d drop her panties in a heartbeat.

  How crazy was that?

  “You don’t strike me as a rose type of person. You’re more of a tulip or orchid type of woman.” He moved even closer. “You’re soft, delicate, yet sophisticated, and damned if you don’t smell sweet.”

  Journey gulped. “How do you know I’m soft? You’ve never touched me,” she said quietly. The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

  “Not because I haven’t wanted to.” He brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek and her eyes drifted close as she leaned into his touch. When she reopened her eyes, seconds ticked by as they stared at each other, his gaze lingering on her mouth.

  Laz cursed and mumbled something under his breath just before he lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers, making her mouth tingle.

  Journey’s brain screamed for her to stop him right there, not to go any further, but her body ached for him. No way was she pushing this intriguing man away. She’d fantasized about them coming together more times than she could count.

  No. She wanted this. She wanted him.

  His kiss was gentle and unhurried as his tongue explored the interior of her mouth, sending currents of desire lapping at every nerve in her body. She moaned when his strong arm went around her waist and he pulled her against his hard powerful body. Her nipples beaded at the contact as the throb between her thighs increased. Not only was he the sexiest specimen she’d ever seen but he could kiss, too.

  “God, Journey,” Laz groaned against her mouth and dropped his arm from around her waist as he lifted his head slightly. He didn’t seem to want to stop any more than she did. His eyes met hers as if asking permission to go further. She said nothing. Instead she placed her hand on his chest, fisting his T-shirt, and pulled him back against her body.

  That little sampling wasn’t nearly enough.

  *

  Laz cupped her face between his hands, succumbing to the gravitational pull that had been between them since the first time they’d met. He knew he should stop and back the hell away before he lost total control, but he had waited too long for this moment. He had waited too long to be this close to her without getting just a little taste. No way was he stopping.

  God, she felt good and soft rubbed up against him. His hands slid down the sides of her body and lowered to her firm butt as he drank in the sweetness of her lips. He deepened the kiss, holding her closer knowing she could feel how hard she made him.

  Journey moaned as his tongue danced with hers, familiarizing itself with every nook and cranny of her luscious mouth. All the desire he’d had pent up over the years to kiss her came to the forefront as he savored every moment. This connection exceeded his expectations and when her hands slid into his hair, he just about lost it. His body throbbed with need. But just as quick as the kiss started, common sense settled over him like a cold chill.

  They couldn’t do this.

  He was no good for her.

  If she ever got involved with him, his reputation alone would ruin her good name. Laz couldn’t let that happen.

  Knowin
g this, he reluctantly broke off the kiss, but was slow to release her. They were like two magnets molded together and it was almost impossible to pull away. He needed to…he should…but he couldn’t, at least not yet.

  Journey took her time opening her alluring eyes and he easily got lost in the dreaminess of them. This woman had a hold on him that he couldn’t explain. And now that he’d kissed her, he was screwed. If she had any idea how much power she had over him, she could do some serious damage to his heart. Good thing she’d never know.

  Laz dropped his hands and Journey visibly shivered before clearing her throat.

  “Um, how about that drink?” She hurried away from him, pouring herself a glass of wine, and taking a huge gulp.

  Laz released a noisy breath and ran his hands through his hair, glad to know he wasn’t the only one affected by their intense lip-lock. Making himself at home, he reached into the refrigerator, not surprised that there was very little food since she spent most of her days at the office. Yet, she had plenty to drink. He grabbed a bottle of water and moved to the other side of the long counter, where she’d set the burritos he’d brought.

  He pointed at their food. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

  He waited until she was seated at the breakfast bar before snagging the stool next to her. They ate in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. What he needed to do was find out what she’d been holding back from him earlier, but first he had to get his body under control. Only minutes ago, flames of desire consumed him like the hottest fire, singeing every cell within him. He hadn’t felt this worked up in a while. Sure, he’d been with plenty of women over the years, but not one had him ready to say to hell with everything in order to have her. He hadn’t felt like this since…not since Gwenn.

  Don’t go there, Dimas. He definitely didn’t need to travel down that mental road.

  “The flowers were from a client,” Journey said out of nowhere.

  Laz nodded, not bothering to ask if the client was male or female. It was best he didn’t know.

  “Are you ready to tell me what you wanted to say earlier?” he finally asked Journey, tossing the wrapper from his burrito into the trash. He poured more wine into her glass before grabbing another bottle of water for himself. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”