by K. S. Adkins
“Too bad she’s busy these days huh?” Jules thinks he has a thing for Venessa and I wanted no part of it. “You could try to make a play for her of course, if you don’t mind Rogan gutting you. I don’t need to be exceptionally strong to best you, asshole. I just need my aim to be true.”
“I don’t want her and your gun is my car too,” he says, then nuzzles my neck and yeah, I like to be nuzzled, so what?
“Do not mistake my kindness for weakness. Men were created to be stronger, faster and bloodthirsty. Don’t think because I haven’t fought dirty, that I won’t to get what I want.”
“You and anything sporting a pulse. Why the fuck am I here?” I ask getting in his face, while still trying to fight free and getting pissed when I can’t get loose.
“Stop fighting and help me, dammit.”
“I should help you because?”
“Because I fucking need you,” he says, taking my mouth hard and a split second before my hands sink into his hair, the truth of words hit me.
Lost in the taste of his minty mouth, his strong hands gripping me like dual vices, it takes me longer than usual to come to my senses. His tongue is warm and skilled, his lips thick and soft and really the guy is the picture a perfect male specimen. On a good day, I am passable as ‘pat me on the head’ cute. As evidenced by my appearance this morning, I looked like I’d been hit by the drunk truck and have yet to brush my teeth. Hello, reality check, thanks for fucking showing up. I am not in this guy’s league.
The facts are simple; the truth comes in many forms and so does need. I remind myself I’m here because he needs something from me, not because he’s attracted to me or that he wants to get to know me. No, he knows I’m a human lie detector and like everyone else, he wants to use me for his own gain. Although, if he continues kissing me like this as payment, I may let him. You know after I’ve showered, gargled and made a phone call to my morals asking them to come into the office for a few hours.
“I’ve got one deal in me. Caffeinate me and tell me what you want and I promise to at least kinda listen,” I say, backing up, wiping my mouth with my hand and sitting at his table. “But I’m telling you now, you bullshit me and I’m gone. You try and guilt me with my friends again, I’m gone. If you aren’t following here, this is me telling you I’m looking for a reason to leave.”
“That’s fair,” he says, putting a cup under the machine and hitting brew. Of course he has one of those auto things where you stick a plastic cup in it and presto! “Grab the smokes from the drawer for me.” Once I do, he hands me my cup, sets down his own across from me, cracks the kitchen window and makes eye contact. His eyes, for the record, are extremely lethal. He’s right, he is a predator and I should have recognized that. He was serious, this isn’t a game and I’m not so sure I want any part of this or of him. I am feeling vulnerable without my makeup on. Plus, makeup makes me look almost legal and helps me play the careful I bite, card.
“How about I start from the beginning?”
He did.
However, I really wish that he hadn’t.
We’ve been at it for hours and let me just say I’m not a fan of malls. “Pops come on,” I groan. “We’ve been to every store here.”
Grunting at me, he leads us into yet another jewelry store. “It’s our twenty year anniversary,” he says proudly. “She’s my lady. A man always makes his lady happy.” Toughing it out, I’ll never tell him how his swooning over my mother makes me happy. Especially when most of my friend’s parents are divorced. Not my parents, they’re happier than ever. “What kind of jewelry can you get on a cop’s budget?” I ask, pointing at a beautiful set of earrings that are perfect for her.
“I’ve been saving a while. Why? What did you find?” he asks, joining me at the display case.
“Those,” I point out. “Those are mom.” The ruby earrings I found weren’t flashy. They were subtle and pretty like she is. My mom didn’t wear a lot of jewelry as a rule but, the pieces she did wear were bought for her by my father.
“You’re right,” he says, smiling and when the salesman comes over. My father was happy to pay every penny for the earrings and when I asked him what they cost, he told me, “Doesn’t matter, not when she’s priceless.”
Her mouth was heaven, just as I knew it would be. She used her tongue like she uses everything else—with everything she’s got. Without make up, her hair sticking out at all directions and still smelling like alcohol, she’s still got my heart tripping over itself and my cock pulsing with need. I’ve never met a woman who wouldn’t demand a shower, her makeup bag and two hours stuck in a bathroom before letting anyone see her, but not Lina. She owns it like she does everything. She even owns her hangover. A man has to respect that. She’s beautiful and mysterious with makeup but without… fucking breathtaking.
Being as forthcoming as I can, I decide to ease into it and gauge her reaction. When she sips her coffee and crosses her legs, I see I have her attention, so I start from the beginning. “Brent Cross and my father were partners. My parents were murdered two hours after hers were.” Her eyes go wide but don’t fill with tears and for some reason it helps. “I had never met Venessa. I was already in school up north, but I’d heard my father speak of her. Like her father, mine kept me away from the darker side of his work. Neither my mother or I knew my father was a part of a task force that was responsible for taking down the Russo drug ring until after.”
Taking a deep breath, I continue. “Like I said, I was away at school and when I got the call. I came home to bury my parents and get answers. Except, as you know, there were no answers. Two families were slain. These were officers of the DPD and they swept it under the rug. Like Venessa, I wanted revenge. Spending time at Lush I was able to hear things, be a part of things and wait for the right time to kill the men responsible myself. Two years had passed and I thought I’d never get justice but, then I noticed what she was doing and I didn’t want her near it. Fuck, Lina, she was so close and it was no place for her. Then they showed up, and when I followed them out behind the club to get my own revenge, I walked into Venessa slitting their throats in the alley, then leaving them there and going back to work. She didn’t see me. I stayed behind the door, but it didn’t destroy her like it should have. The opposite happened as you know, and I knew I’d have to keep an eye on her so she didn’t get herself killed.”
“Their murders were never solved either,” she says. “There was speculation but no proof. Since no one was sorry to see them go there was no investigation and on paper it’s a missing persons case. Odds of them being found?”
“None,” I say. “I took care of them myself.”
“I see,” she says. “Does she know this?”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“You said you were in college at the time,” she says, spinning her mug on the table. “But you didn’t go back, obviously. You also said you took care of the scene. Only someone with training could do such a thing. Care to tell me what you majored in at college?”
“Business.”
“I bet. But that isn’t what your degree is in, is it? What do you do for a living, Anthony? Because from where I’m sitting, it’s not business. To clear a scene, wipe it, and have the knowledge to do so says law enforcement or crime, and you don’t scream criminal, even though you try to.”
“I was protecting her,” I defend. “I did what I had to do. I didn’t think she’d keep doing it, but she did. Keeping her off the DPD’s radar became a full time job. That and not letting her know I was cleaning up after her, I had my work cut out for me.”
“Admirable,” she says. “But you didn’t answer my question. Who do you work for?”
“I need your help with the case Lina,” I hedge. “Venessa does too, though she won’t admit it. They killed our families for a reason. Someone wanted them out of the picture. They wanted this forgotten. I won’t forget, I can’t. I have it all here, the files, footage, disks, statements, photos, everything. Just tell me you’l
l help me and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
“Show me,” she says, standing up. When I do the same, she extends an arm and quietly says, “After you.”
Taking her to my spare room, I open the door and watch as she assesses what I have from top to bottom. I never settled here and there wasn’t much to see but still her eyes never lose focus. She doesn’t touch anything or stay in one place for too long. Finally, she stands in front of the time line I created for the events as they happened. She stands there saying nothing, which is when I start get nervous. If she refuses, I’m fucked, but something tells me she won’t shoot me down. If she does this for anyone, it would be Venessa. I’m counting on that, even though Venessa wouldn’t want this. Several minutes later, she turns toward me, looks me right in the eye and asks, “So, Mr. Tall, Dark and Mysterious, how long have you been with the FBI?”
Startled at her discovery, I can’t speak, so she continues. “I’ve worked a bunch of cases with them. They, like any agency, have their own way of doing things. This room and everything in it is a product of your training—very precise and super anal. The problem with you Feds is you think everything is black and white, but it’s the grey that’ll kill you. P.S., I’m the grey in case you’re following. It’s a cold case so even if I say yes, that I’ll look into it with fresh eyes, the killers were dealt with. See, I can find the reason, but in the end you probably won’t like the answer. It’s usually something simple like an eye for an eye. Knowing that won’t let you sleep any better at night, trust me. I will ask you once, Anthony, are you asking me to do this for closure or because even after all these years the past is connected to the future?”
“Tell me how you came up with that.”
“I’m in the field,” she says. “I see it. The DPD is very selective on any cases I’m brought in on because they know I’ll blow it wide open. In fact, the captain is quite outspoken in favor of my being a fraud and has gone on record stating they will not willingly work with me.
“But you do,” I say, lighting up again because my nerves are shot. “Work cases with them, I mean.”
“Mostly when territory is a dispute,” she explains, lighting up her own cigarette. “If the foot is in Dearborn but the body is in Detroit then Detroit wants Dearborn to take it and vice versa. I do a lot of work in Dearborn; their Chief is a standup guy. The DPD will fight about the territory until they realize I’m the profiler, then they walk away. I’m not a fool. They fear the truth, as they should. The problem is profilers and cops have an uneasy truce at best. Then factor me in. I make people nervous. If it’s a situation in your territory that you can’t get a handle on, you don’t want the higher ups to know you’re slipping. That’s the DPD. My reputation is iron clad. Theirs is wacked. I don’t have to say a word. My closed cases speak for me. If I say your department has a problem, it has a problem. It doesn’t get questioned. So if you were the captain who couldn’t control his streets or his cops, would you want me working your cases? If you were him, would you want me looking into a case you purposely closed ten years ago?
“No, if I were the captain, I wouldn’t. Yes, I believe the past is connected to the future. Too many coincidences for my peace of mind. I’m trying to connect the dots but I can’t reveal anything at this point for the same reasons you mentioned. Too much is at stake here. I left them to find you, giving Rogan specific instructions that she does not look for me either. I can’t have her fucking this up.”
“You must really love her,” she says, looking away. “You’ve put yourself in some serious shit over this. You could lose your job over this considering this isn’t a case at all anymore and really never was. I’m also betting that you’re using department resources which is a no-no. I guess that’s where I come in, huh? Bribe the freak using her friend as incentive. It’s clever and I give you props for that. But you don’t think she has a right to know?”
“I think of her as a friend,” I defend, needing her to understand my motives. “Yes, I made her think I had interest but that was only to set her in Rogan’s path. I knew they needed each other and gave them both a push. Part of me hoped he could get her to stop doling out justice. Rogan being a detective didn’t even matter because he crossed lines right along with her because he saw she was right. She does not need to know any of this, Lina. She deserves a normal life, or at least, normal for them. If you’ve seen her with Rogan you’ve seen her happiness, I don’t want her to lose that.”
“Oh boy, this is going to get ugly,” she says, walking toward the door. “You seem to have overlooked the part where Venessa, Macy, Rogan and Rafe adore the captain. Their trust in him was absolute last time checked. It may have been tested recently, but the Cap has covered his ass. Jules and I don’t trust him at all and we’ve been following this circus for years. Max doesn’t know him enough to care but, getting the four of them to see the DPD is corrupt could be war sooner if a few things don’t happen the way I hope they do.”
“War? What war?”
“What branch do you work for? You give, I give.”
“I collect evidence for the CCRSB. Your turn.”
“Quite the over achiever, aren’t we? You could have used what you have here to make a case, but clearly you won’t so that’s a discussion for later. Okay here goes… Jules came home to save Max. If my analysis is correct, Max’s father Hank is using Lush for all sorts of shit unbeknownst to Max, of course. If you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting him then you’ll know what I’m saying holds merit. He’s kind of a dick. I have a file I’ll share, but the zinger is he’s setting Max up to take the fall. Not cool of his daddio. Max goes down, Hank takes Lush and that’s not good for anybody. We start with Hank and work our way up. Hank is not top dog and he’s bound to lead me to who is because on top of being a dick, he’s not very bright. Before this gets serious with the captain, I need to make sure Max stays clear, or Jules will blow things up in his honor. The second the cap figures out I’ve picked a side, I won’t be able to give Max’s mess all my focus. Help me with him and I’ll start digging while no one’s looking. Deal?”
“Deal,” I say, shaking her hand, pleased with the results and enjoying touching her again. “I’ll show you to your room.”
When she cocks her head to the side and puts her hands on her hips, I almost pause. I don’t know her well, but I do know she’s used to being the boss. She’s used to being on her own and answering to no one. With me that’s not an option. Leading her from the room, she stops in front of my wall that showcases various photos of Venessa. Fuck, I meant to take those down, but I wasn’t expecting to bring her here so soon. Several looks cross her face as she stares at the photos, but then she stops, grabs her bag and follows me across the hall to the bedroom she was in only hours ago.
I wait for her to flip.
Only she doesn’t.
I am disappointed that she didn’t. I wanted her to ask so I could explain but, she never did that either.
Running through my hotel room, I trip over my laptop and crash into the couch. Shaking it off, I grab my phone quickly because I can’t miss our weekly call. “Ow! Lo?”
“Hey you!” she says cheerfully. “Got a minute?”
“I have two, actually,” I tell her. “Both are reserved for you.”
“Wait, are you hurt?”
“I tripped, I’m fine. I’ve got nine more toes.”
“Max and I got married,” she squeals.
“Married?” I squeal back.
“Yes! He asked me and I said yes!”
I’ve never heard her this excited about anything. Jules always plays it cool. Her excitement becomes my excitement because she loves him that much. I can hear the truth of it in her voice. “I’m so fucking happy for you! Congrats!”
“Thanks!” she says. “It was just the two of us at the courthouse, but when you meet him we’ll have a big party! We’ll be in town Thursday will you be around?”
“Shit,” I mutter. “I have a lecture to pre
tend to care about. Friday?”
“We leave Friday morning,” she says. “I have to work on Saturday. We’ll make plans soon?”
“Plans soon I promise,” I tell her. “Hey Jules?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s it like?”
“What’s what like?”
“Loving someone like that?”
“It’s everything, Lina.”
That night when I found myself getting bent over some stranger’s hood, I wondered if I’d ever have my own everything. When the random lies and tells me I was the best he’s ever had, I decided I’d probably never have everything, but that I’d gladly settle for at least something even if, I hated myself afterward.
It’s not often I look confused, even less often that I am actually confused but, this qualifies. The house, like I said, is very sterile in appearance but, his wall of photos catches my attention on our way to the stairs. Heading over to it, I see it’s homage to all things Venessa. Ah, that explains a lot and it’s fucking creepy too. Although the two of them only have one photo together and they aren’t even touching, the wall is still a tribute to her. When I see the picture of her and Eminem, I just feel envious. Of course, she’d get to meet him being a kick ass DJ and all. Whoever Anthony is, he is clearly very much in love with a very taken Venessa. It makes no sense that he put Rogan in her path, but I sensed no lie, so maybe he did it because he knew she didn’t feel the same? Meh, who cares? I don’t. Not even a smidge. Judging by the fact that all of these pics were taken without her knowledge, but have captured the very essence of who she is, it’s a testament to their history and another reminder of why I’m better off alone.
Venessa is all the things I’m not. It shouldn’t bother me that he’s clearly in love with her, but it does. I can’t lie to myself, but a girl can dream right? What I wouldn’t give for someone to see me like that. Jealousy is not an emotion I spend much time with because it’s useless, but it’s running through me so it’s best to cut my losses and drink it off. Clearly, I’m just a replacement. A means of giving his heart’s desire the ultimate gift. He would stop at nothing, even using me to give her the justice she still searches for. For her though, I do it. I’d get used again to make her happy. Knowing that I wasn’t what he wanted, but my skills were what he needed, really sucked a dick. Grabbing my bag off the floor, cell phone charger and an extra pack of cigarettes, I follow him upstairs, then toss it all on his bed. Modesty has never been my thing and I’m working against the clock, so I change in his presence not really caring if he looks or not, but secretly hoping he does. He can’t have my goodies, but I’ll let him look in the window. He can lick the fucking window for all I care too. I’m not about to be his lay-a-away option. Tossing what I don’t need back into the bag, I approach him to sort this out.