by Cassie Wild
“Is it too much to hope that he’ll let it go?” Kian asked. “I’ll go to the cops. I told him I would, and I have no compunction about doing so. Joelle’s ready to tell the police anything she needs to if it will keep her from going back to him.”
“Good,” I said, nodding. “It may well come to that.” I slanted a look at her. “You are a minor, Joelle. That doesn’t exactly bend the law in your favor, but your dad screwed up big time, and that offers you some protection.”
“What if they don’t believe me?” she asked, her voice hesitant.
“It will be your word against his.” Leaning forward slightly, I pointed out, “But he’s been in trouble before. He doesn’t have the cleanest history with the law. That won’t play into his favor. Plus…it’s not just your word. It’s your sister’s too.”
“What do we need to do to protect her?” Suria asked.
“There are a few options,” I said, glad she’d asked. She was a sharp one, but I’d already figured that out. She was also brave and determined. “Joelle could try to apply for emancipated minor status, but I don’t know if that’s the ideal situation. You don’t work, do you, Joelle?”
“Not outside the clan, no.” She nibbled on the cookie, staring at nothing.
“Then that’s not as good of an option.” Shifting my attention to Suria, I said, “You could apply to be her guardian.”
“I don’t work outside the clan, either,” she said, her voice hesitant. “And it’s entirely likely I could be in trouble for some of the things I’ve done for them.”
“We’ll deal with that hurdle.” Taking a deep breath, I offered, “There’s always the next option. I can file for guardianship.”
Suria and Kian shared a look, then Suria looked at her little sister. “I…but…we live in LA.”
Nodding, I said, “I know. It’s not ideal. I could perhaps file for temporary guardianship, and you can get a job. Prove that you’re a responsible caretaker, then we try again, under your name.”
Joelle looked pale and tired, and I felt pity for her. “But none of this has to be decided tonight. You all – we all – have had one hell of a day. We’ve got time to work this out.”
Three
Ravenna
One thing that did seriously suck about my job – the hours. Unlike some people, I would have killed to have been put on second or even third shift.
I was so not a morning person, and when my alarm went off at the ass-crack of dawn, I hit it with a whimper, wishing I could stay in bed until it was a more reasonable hour. Another six or seven hours should do it.
But that wasn’t going to happen, so after hitting the snooze button twice, I rolled out of bed and hit the floor. Literally. I did forty push-ups, then went to my back and did double the number of sit-ups.
My brain was marginally more awake after I stumbled out of the bathroom a few minutes later, in search of caffeine and food. I’d shower after I’d taken care of those two crucial needs.
The coffeepot, on a timer, had already produced glorious coffee and I nipped a cup off before putting a bagel in the toaster. Coffee and a bagel with peanut butter – the breakfast of champions.
I poured a second cup of coffee before I was even finished with the bagel. The second cup went into the shower with me. Some people might think I had a caffeine problem. I didn’t see it as a problem.
Even though I’d told Malcolm the job was going the other day, I couldn’t help but feel a rush when I walked into the precinct. Malcolm hadn’t been exaggerating when he talked about how I’d been working for this my whole life.
I was nowhere near close to the end goal, but I was one step closer, and it mattered.
My partner was in the bullpen talking to a couple of other officers, and when he saw me, he waved me over. Milo Lorenzo was a decent cop, and I appreciated the fact that I’d been assigned to him when I was hired. He wasn’t overly ambitious and didn’t have pie in the sky dreams about shooting for homicide or anything else, really. He’d told me he was quite happy being a beat cop, and I could either follow in his footsteps, or he’d do the best he could with me, then boost up to the next level once that time came.
I was still a new cop, and for now, I came with training wheels. Some of those training wheels had the name M. Lorenzo on them. I wasn’t resentful of the fact. I was a cop’s daughter and understood the chain of command, but man, did I want to be ready for that next level.
“About time to go get our assignments for the day,” Milo said, passing me a cup of coffee.
The first few weeks we’d worked together, he’d been quiet to the point of terseness, but we’d adjusted to each other and had an amicable enough working friendship.
I suspected he’d thought I use family connections to smooth my way. If only he knew that I wished fewer people knew of those family connections. I didn’t want my way smoothed.
“Look at that…she’s got you trained and fetching coffee,” one of the uniforms said with a smirk in my direction. “If I had a new cop working with me, she’d be the one fetching my coffee.”
“Maybe that’s why they don’t put new cops with you, Martin,” I replied, taking a tentative sip of the steaming brew. “They’re trying to kill that good ol’ boy system where the little lady is the one to fetch the coffee while the big, strong men sit around and talk business.”
A couple of the guys hooted.
But Shane Martin just stared at me over the rim of his own coffee cup. “Hey, if a system works…why fix it?”
I ignored the comment, refusing to let him draw me into one of his petty little messes. He loved to cause problems, then pass it off like somebody else was responsible.
When I didn’t rise to the bait, he opened his mouth to try again, but Milo cut between us. “Come on, red. Need to get in there for the morning briefing. See you losers later.”
Most of those losers trailed along after us, including Shane Martin, who took up the table behind me along with his partner, Lenny Higgins. The two of them muttered and whispered throughout most of the meeting, making it hard to pick up on everything that was being said, but I focused and tuned them out.
Once we had our assignments, we hit the doors, heading to the parking bay where the cruisers were all parked. On the way out, we bypassed a familiar face standing with a couple of detectives, and I waved.
I could have gotten by with that, but Milo spotted my big brother Carl, and he had to stop and chat for a few minutes.
It seemed that he couldn’t miss a single chance to talk with my big brother. Whether he’d always been like this, I didn’t know, but Milo knew all about the ins and outs of the precinct, the good politics and the bad. Maybe it was just good politics for him to stay on the good side of one of the desk sergeants. Although he didn’t go out of his way to be that friendly with all of them.
Granted, if he did, we’d have a hard time getting out of the precinct.
“Have a good shift,” Carl said, drawing the conversation to a close and nodding at me before he walked off.
He seemed to understand my desire to keep my relationship with him at a minimum when working. I didn’t want anybody thinking I’d gotten where I was because of my name, because of my dad or my brothers.
“Everything okay with you and your brother?” Milo asked as we climbed into the car.
Puzzled, I glanced over at him. “Everything’s fine, why?”
“You barely said two words to him.”
“I usually don’t. Not at work, at least.” I shrugged it off as I reached for my seatbelt. Once I was buckled in, I picked up the clipboard with our street assignments, but Milo just started the car and left it in idle.
“Why is that?” He frowned at me, clearly puzzled.
“Because…” Blowing out a sigh, I met his eyes. “You know what it’s like to be the new girl who’s got a retired daddy for a cop and two older brothers who are also cops, walking into the precinct on day one and having everybody stare at you, and cops like Martin mut
tering about how if it wasn’t for Daddy, you wouldn’t be where you are?”
“Seeing as how I’ve never been a girl…can’t say I have. Plenty of cops have to prove themselves, Sinclair.” He shrugged. “You know. You’re a good cop, though. You can take a few seconds and talk to your brother.”
“I know I’m a good cop,” I replied mildly. “And I know I didn’t sleep with anybody or ask my brother for any favors to get where I am. But some of the guys we work with haven’t figured it out yet. So, I’m not going to rub it in their faces that one of the desk sergeants is my brother.”
“Hey, hey…” Milo’s face darkened. “Who says you’ve been sleeping around? Is it Martin?”
I made a face at him. “Don’t worry. I handled it.” Tapping my finger on the clipboard, I tried to divert him. “How about we get to work?”
The stupidity of some people never ceased to amaze me.
We currently had one of the finest examples of human stupidity in the back of the cruiser, and the car reeked to high heaven.
She was drunk off her ass at ten in the morning and crying uncontrollably because we were taking her to jail.
That tended to happen when you’re driving drunk and weaving all over the road.
Again, it was ten in the morning.
The hour didn’t seem to matter to our girl, though. Apparently, she worked the night shift and had decided to go home, get plastered, then go for a drive.
She’d uttered a few words about a piece of shit boyfriend, so maybe love was to blame for this. Love and stupidity. Who knew?
What I did know was that she’d drank way too much, freaked out at the idea of getting arrested, and just a few minutes ago, she’d puked in the back of the car.
“You’re going to make me clean it out, aren’t you?” I groused, glaring at Milo from the corner of my eye.
“Grunt work,” he said cheerfully. “You’re the newbie here. You get to do the grunt work.”
“Bite me,” I said with a sigh.
Behind us, the girl’s sobs rose to a miserable pitch, and I half-turned. “Pipe down back there.”
“I can’t go to jail!” she sobbed, leaning forward and staring at me with beseeching eyes. “You don’t understand. I’m a nurse. If I get arrested, it can mess up my license.”
“You should have thought about that before you went for a drive,” I said, unconcerned.
“Bitch!” she spat out.
I got a face full of her rancid, post-vomit breath and turned away. One thing I had yet to completely adjust to was the variety of smells I had to cope with on the job. Body odor was just one of them. An alcoholic binge combined with vomit breath was something I’d rather never smell again, but there was no doubt it would make a repeated appearance in my future.
We reached the station in near record time, and once Milo had her out, he turned the keys over to me, giving me a beatific smile. “Going to beg for mercy?”
“Just get out of my face,” I said wearily. Once he was gone, I turned to the car and sighed.
And to think…this was the job I’d been working for my whole life.
Four
Nicco
“Oh, man…” Joelle’s eyes rounded as we were seated at a table near the window, facing out over the ocean.
This was one of my favorite places, mostly because of this view right here.
I was glad she appreciated it. The smile that lit her face chased away some of the fatigue from my sleepless night, and I grinned at her. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It’s gorgeous.” She gave me a happy smile.
I had to resist the urge to reach over and hug her. Mom had always been open and easy with her affection, which had made me the same way, but I had to remind myself that I barely knew these girls.
And they were still wary around me.
That was part of the reason we were here, just the three of us. Kian had traveled back home to LA to visit with his mom and check on some things in the garage he owned. I’d overheard him telling Suria he wasn’t comfortable leaving her just yet, but he had to keep an eye on things at the shop too. I admired him for tackling both responsibilities, although I doubted he’d look at Suria as a responsibility.
While I’d never been in love, I had a feeling that I wouldn’t look at the woman I loved as a responsibility.
Still, in a way, the need to keep the people you loved safe was just that, and the way those two felt about each other was obvious.
Suria had been decidedly quieter ever since he’d left. Now, directing a smile at her, I said, “Are you hungry?”
“I’m almost always hungry, Nicco.” She gave me a wan smile that did little to lift the shadows from her eyes.
The three of us lapsed into silence as a server appeared to pass out menus and take drink orders. I stayed with coffee but urged Suria to try a mimosa, which she did.
Joelle went with orange juice, and we were once more left alone.
“The Nutella French toast is amazing,” I told them both.
“Nutella French toast?” Joelle’s eyes widened even more before she bent over the menu, busily searching the item out. “Oh, I know what I’m getting…and bacon! Can I get bacon?”
Suria opened her mouth. “I don’t–”
I held up a hand. “You get whatever you want.” Suria frowned, and I arched a brow at her. “I haven’t been able to treat my sisters to anything my whole life. Are you going to deprive me of that now?”
Suria made a face at me. “When you put it like that…” Sighing, she flipped open her own menu. “Nutella French toast, huh?”
Ten minutes later, we had our orders placed and very little to talk about. I asked plenty of questions, but once they’d answered, they lapsed into silence.
Biting back a mental groan, I fumbled for some way to break the ice, but every scenario I came up with seemed either too lame or made it clear I was trying too hard.
And I was trying. They didn’t need to know I was mentally sweating bullets trying to come up with ways to get them to relax and feel comfortable around me.
“What are you planning on doing when you get out of school, Joelle?” I asked, falling on the one question every adult tends to ask a kid her age. I’d ordered myself not to ask it, but I was at my wit’s end.
To my surprise, Joelle didn’t look annoyed by the question. In fact, she looked a little stunned. “Do?” she asked. She turned her eyes toward her sister, and a weak laugh escaped her. Suria reached out and covered Joelle’s hand with hers, squeezing lightly.
It didn’t hit me until then that Joelle probably hadn’t ever considered the fact that she’d have much say in the matter.
“I’ve always wanted to be an artist,” Suria said lightly, twining her fingers with her sister’s, holding my gaze with hers intently.
It was an attempt to give her sister some privacy, a few seconds away from my watchful gaze, and I knew it. Because I understood, I nodded and watched Suria. “What kind of art?”
“I like most kinds. Photography, sketching, oils, mixed media.” She lifted a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “You can imagine I never really put a lot of real thought into it because it was always a pipe dream.”
“Are you any good?”
She rolled her eyes, and I glimpsed some of the humor I’d seen over the past few days making a reappearance. “I’d like to think so, yes.”
“Do you have any pieces you can use to make a portfolio?” I asked her. From the corner of my eye, I could see Joelle’s face, and there was an expression on her features that made my heart clench a little. Dazed wonder. Awe. Like a child discovering something completely new. It also pissed me off, because she shouldn’t be that amazed at the thought that she had options in front of her.
That bastard father of ours.
“I used to,” Suria said, drawing my attention back to her. Lips parted, she started to continue.
Abruptly, her features froze, and her hand tightened on Joelle’s.
Her
eyes strayed to the left, and I immediately saw why.
Two cops had just come in.
Under the table, I nudged her toe with mine. “It’s okay,” I said gently. “Cops like the coffee and sandwiches here. They’re probably just here to grab some lunch.”
Suria swallowed, her face pale, but she nodded. Next to her, Joelle had reacted in pretty much the same fashion.
Leaning back, I maintained a relaxed air as I held Suria’s gaze. Joelle was staring at the table. She’d take her cues from her sister, I already knew that. Hoping that Suria was as sharp as she seemed, I glanced at Joelle, then back at her.
Suria gave herself a slight shake, like a woman coming out of a fugue. Then she leaned over and hugged Joelle. “There’s nothing to worry about,” she said, keeping her voice light. “We always had to be on our toes back in LA because of the trouble Dad had gotten into, but he’s not here. It’s like a fresh start.”
“Exactly.”
Bit by bit, Joelle breathed easier.
It helped that the cops were no longer in her line of sight, although I think Suria would have felt better if she could see them.
“I’m keeping an eye on them,” I told her mildly. “Just getting coffee and sandwiches, like I said.”
They looked like partners, the two of them talking easily. The woman was a fair amount younger than the man, and gorgeous. Her skin had a sunkissed look to it, warmed even more by the bright red of her hair. I thought most redheads tended to freckle or burn, but from the looks of it, her skin loved the sun, taking to it like a peach ripening in summer.
You don’t have to ogle her to keep an eye on them, I told myself, looking back at Suria and Joelle.
Joelle had relaxed enough to drink some of her juice, and she asked for me to pass her the basket of sweetbreads that had been passed out when our drinks arrived.
Trying to go for more casual this time, I glanced back at the two cops. They’d turned in profile toward me now, allowing me a better look at her – a much better look.