Ballistic

by K. S. Adkins

  That’s when Max’s face goes red and I have to wonder if he takes meds for his blood pressure, because if he doesn’t he probably should. “He was dirty!” he yells. “He tried to kill her, then was taken. Twice!”

  “Is that right? Where are the culprits now?” Anthony asks, keeping his cool. I want to giggle at the use of culprits but, I don’t. “Exactly. One is dead and the other is missing, only he isn’t, so that means it’s matter of time, doesn’t it? Let Lina and I do our thing and take your wife on her honeymoon.”

  “You’re asking me to run,” she argues.

  “He’s asking you to lay low,” I argue back. “There’s a difference.”

  “Blue,” Max says, rubbing her back, obviously sold on keeping her safe. “I can have us in the Dominican by Monday.”

  After thinking on it, I see her soften. She’ll do it for him, not herself. Jules never walks away from a fight but, I need her to think she’s walking away from this one.

  “A beach and room service? I can work with that.” Then looking at us both, she says, “You’ll keep me in the loop? You won’t pull any shit?”

  “Yes,” Anthony says, rolling his eyes at her bossy tone. “We’ll keep you in the loop and I don’t pull shit.”

  “But I do,” I say smiling, then there’s a knock on the door and Venessa charges in, pitching a fit over the club and effectively giving it back to Max. The meltdown lasted about a minute then she falls next to me and bumps shoulders.

  “Feel better?” Jules asks, arranging the papers she threw.

  “Oddly enough, I do,” she says, then her glare levels on Anthony. “What are you doing here?”

  “Visiting,” I tell her, standing up wanting to give them time with the happy couple. Walking over to Anthony I ask him “Wanna grab a smoke?” to which he takes my hand to help him up.

  “Thought you’d never ask.”

  Walking to the door, Venessa can’t let it go. “Hold up,” she says, standing in between us but addressing me while Rogan hangs back watching her. “Since when do you smoke?”

  “Why?” I ask. “You looking to call my mother?”

  “Pump your brakes trigger,” she snaps, then turns to him. “Smoking’s disgusting, seriously. Tony, you smoke, too? You like pussy wine I knew that, but cigarettes? Nasty.”

  That fire consumes me again. Venessa is awesome, I love her, I do, but she’s also opinionated and clearly protective when it comes to the man who came inside of me only hours ago. I have no issues pissing on her leg to mark my territory and it just so happens I have a full bladder. Getting in her space I ask her, “You kissing his mouth these days, Venessa?”

  Clearly thrown by my question, she back peddles. “What? No!”

  “Then shut yours,” I advise her as we walk away. “No one asked you.”

  Just as I get to the door she growls at me, “The fuck is your problem?” she says, getting in my face this time.

  “Step down,” I order her. “I haven’t seen you in ages and you have to start this shit with me because I smoke or, is it because Tony smokes?”

  “Whoa now,” she says, getting angry and looking confused. “What in the fuck does that mean?”

  “Angel,” Rogan steps in, aware of the tension and the fact that I was about ready to slap her. “Step down, now.”

  “No,” she says, standing her ground. “You two have some explaining to do. Especially you,” she says, pointing around me to Anthony. “You lied, took off and now you’re both here a united front and still holding out on us. You two know all sorts of shit you aren’t sharing. Now she’s in my shit for no reason, so what the fuck, yeah?”

  “Now isn’t the time,” I tell her, going around her, but then she grabs my arm. Not tight, but enough to stop me in my tracks. Bad fucking idea. “Let go,” I tell her quietly, but she doesn’t.

  Jules comes over and stands next to Venessa and says, “She said let her go.”

  “Jesus!” Venessa says, throwing up her hands. “What is with you two?”

  “Quit pushing her,” Jules advises. “Do it again and you’ll deal with me.”

  “You always take up for her like she can’t handle herself,” she argues. “We’ve shared cell space, Jules.”

  “Last time I checked, I also got our asses out of those cells too, Venessa.” Having heard enough, I take Anthony’s hand and we go out to the porch and leave them to do whatever it was they came to do. I need to get back to the house and work these leads out and was about to tell him just that, when she walks out on the porch followed by a smirking Rogan. Venessa sucks at apologizing.

  “Sorry,” she says, looking at the ground. “It won’t happen again, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I offer up and then she slaps my ass as she leaves. Heading back in we stay for a few more hours talking about nothing in particular. When they tried digging for information, we shut them down together and eventually they quit asking. Going home that night, I was plagued with nightmares, only this time I wasn’t the star, Jules was.

  I understood things had to unfold as planned so the DPD wouldn’t be tipped off, but that doesn’t mean that I am handling it well. Having no choice but to shove her to the front lines for the next battle, the only comfort I could find was knowing she could take care of herself. I’d also be there in the background putting the pieces together once the shit hit the fan.

  Everyone knows when the shit starts flying, you duck. I mean, really, who wants to be covered in shit?

  “A good woman will respect you,” he said, testing out the garbage disposal “A good man will respect her in return.”

  Handing him the wrench, I kneel down and asked him, “What’s with all the life lessons, Pop?”

  “I’m not going to be around forever, son,” he said, tightening the bolt. “I just want you prepared for when I’m not.”

  “I know about respect,” I reminded him. “I watch you with Mom. You two are great teachers.”

  Sitting up and wiping off, he levels with me. “Son, you may meet a girl with the same upbringing as you and you may not. Not everyone has two amazing parents like you do.” When I laugh, he continued. “The point is, if you meet a girl that doesn’t, you have to be patient with her, listen to her, guide her and be honest with her.”

  “I can do that.”

  “I know you can, son,” he said, smiling. “I am a great teacher, you said so yourself.”

  I know the plan and I can say with certainty, I don’t like it. I understand why it had to go down the way that it does, but this is going to wreck Max and the thought of him hurting again did not set well with me. Agreeing to follow her lead on this, while she’s in the shower getting ready, I head to the kitchen to grab a smoke and wait for her. Her phone is charging near the door and it pings constantly. Without touching it when it pings again, I look down before the screen blanks and see it’s Julian begging to see her. Swiping the message to open, I scroll up and see he has sent her at least a dozen messages, all asking the same thing. Granted, she didn’t respond to them, but she knew he sent them and didn’t say anything. She’s my woman. We share a bed together and she’s in our god damn shower, therefore she owes me an explanation.

  Before I lose it again, I make a phone call. A brief one because if she hears me, she’d break her other hand on my face for my deception. “We’ve got problems,” I offer in way of a greeting.

  “No shit,” he says. “You ready for tonight?”

  “As much as I can be,” I mutter. “She wants war. You better know what you’re doing.”

  “You handle Lina,” he advises. “Let me worry about the rest.”

  “Handle Lina?” I laugh. “Her best friend is about to be publicly arrested and I should handle her? You’re fucking delusional to think I’d even try.”

  After he hangs up, I scratch my head wondering if I should tell her everything, knowing I can’t, that the timing isn’t right. When her phone pings again, I shift focus. Climbing the stairs I can hear her singing. She has a beautiful
off-key voice. I have no idea what song it is, but it’s not G-rated, I can tell you that much. Standing there until the song finishes, I walk in, snap a quick photo then toss the phone to her. “Explain.”

  “Oh I got this! It’s a cell phone, specifically the IPhone 5S although the battery life sucks, Suri is a twat who doesn’t get anal jokes and believe me I’ve tried. I dig the camera features, though.”

  “Julian has been sending you messages for days, Lina,” I growl. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You touched my shit again,” she says, putting both hands on her gorgeous hips. “Is this going to be a habit with you?” She’s see’s I’m about to lose it and continues. “Alright alright,” she says, tossing it on the bed. “Julian is like a stray dog; as long as I don’t feed or pet him, eventually he goes away.”

  “As the past proves he also likes to hump,” I yell at her, knowing I need to shut up. “Specifically you.”

  “Ouch,” she says, walking up to me and pulling my face down to hers. “That was mean, coach. You’re better than that.”

  “You’re right I am, but I have every right to be pissed off right now.”

  “Touché’,” she says, kissing me. “You have a point. I’m sorry for not telling you, but until now I forgot. If it’s not worth remembering, I just don’t.”

  “I may have overreacted,” I admit. “This isn’t an easy thing for me to accept so let’s just get tonight over with. This whole thing has me on edge.”

  “You trust me, right?” she asks, biting her lip. “I’m not hanging her out to dry, or Max for that matter, but this has to happen. I need the DPD by the balls.”

  “I’m FBI, Sherlock. We may have a way of doing things differently, but people we know and love are at stake here. There’s no protocol for this. If you think this will get the players moving, then this is what we’ll do.”

  “Speaking of FBI, how are you here? I don’t see you reporting to anyone and this isn’t a case with the bureau, so how are you able to give this your full attention?”

  “I took a leave of absence,” I admit to her without disclosing more. “I may have a job when I come back, I may not, but the more time I spend here with you, I’m rethinking my position.”

  “If you’re on leave, how do you make money?”

  Pulling her to me I rest my chin on her head. “My parents left me everything,” I tell her. “I could never work again and be okay.”

  “Wow,” she mumbles. “Your parents really loved you.”

  “They did.”

  “What’s that like?” she asks, looking up at me.

  “It was everything,” I tell her. “Or at least, I thought it was, until I met you.”

  “We should go,” she says, pulling away but, I don’t let it bother me because it’s the look of wonder on her face that gives me hope. My girl hasn’t known love, but if that look is anything to go by, she’s open to it.

  Like I said, plans.

  I was in kindergarten the first time I could explain it. Like a whoosh when you lose your breath. I looked around and everyone was else was okay, but when my teacher spoke to Nathan again there was the whoosh. Hanging his picture up for the art show he asked her if she liked it. She said she loved it but didn’t mean it. The more I thought on it, I whooshed a lot when she spoke to Nathan. He still spelled his name backwards and the teacher said “it’s okay” and that he was smart. The whoosh came again, so I ask her if she likes my picture and she says yes and there was no whoosh.

  That night, Nathan’s mom came to the show. Nathan didn’t have a dad, I guess. He showed his mom his picture with the backwards name and she said she loved it. Whoosh.

  “Mommy,” I said, tugging on her sleeve.

  “What Halina?”

  “That’s Nathan’s picture next to mine,” I show her pointing. “Isn’t it pretty?’

  “It is,” she said, glancing at it. “He did a great job.” Whoosh.

  “You’re lying,” I told her. “You’re not supposed to lie, you said so.”

  “I am not lying,” she said in her mean voice “It’s not nice to accuse.”

  Then, I was even more confused. Maybe the whoosh was the truth? Being five and a half was hard. Tugging her sleeve again I point to my picture when she looked at me. “Do you like my picture?” I asked her. “I drew us. It looks just like us right?”

  “Yes, Halina,” she said, smiling. “It looks just like us.”

  Whoosh.

  Blinking rapidly it was all I could do not to cry. The whoosh didn’t feel good. It felt like my tummy had too much sugar in it or I was on the tilt-a-whirl. I didn’t like how lying made me feel, so I didn’t speak for the rest of the night.

  Over the years I’ve watched Venessa hype the crowd from a distance, making sure I wasn’t seen. But for the first time since graduation, we’re all together again. But I’m the only one of us who knows what’s about to go down. This is one of those situations where I’m more concerned about Max than Jules. She’ll find the opportunity in this, which is the point. I’m just making sure that happens. Jules is DEA, she’s big guns. I need her in a power position and even though it wouldn’t appear being arrested puts her in any position but fucked, it does. Even if she’s not officially DEA anymore, there is no way her team will let this stand, I’m counting on them to get her out if she doesn’t make it happen on her own first.

  However, if I hinted to the guys that Jules was about to be arrested (publicly) for a dirty cops murder, Rogan and Rafe would tear the department apart while Max destroyed everything else. No, this needed to happen. I needed to see for myself how far the DPD was willing to go and plan accordingly. While Venessa changes tracks, I look over at Jules and see she’s lit up. She’s smiling because she thinks she’s having a good time with us and leaving for a honeymoon in the morning, only she isn’t.

  Anthony has Max and Rafe in the back are discussing whatever bullshit he could pull out of his hat, while Rogan is Venessa’s sentinel. She nods at us to take the dance floor and that’s when I hear it.

  “I Wanna Rock”

  I Wanna Rock

  I Wanna Rock

  I Wanna Rock

  Pushing each other out of the way to see who can reach the floor first, as always, it’s Jules. She’s mean when she wants to dance. Actually we all are, but Jules is really mean and she pokes in the kidneys which fucking hurts. As the song plays, we sing along and then it kind of overtakes me and I start really getting foul. By foul I mean working my ass. What? I have a big ass, so? Once I find a rhythm, my ass has a mind of its own. Then the chorus comes and I look up to see Venessa with her fist in the air and Rogan’s face all sorts of red. I’m guessing he’s going to need some time adjusting to the four of us. We get that a lot.

  Screaming to each other, Face Down Ass Up, That’s The Way We Like To Fuck! We don’t miss a beat. Luke Skywalker is fucking amazing. Like you don’t know the track and practice the lyrics for moments just like this, please…

  Laughing, twerking and some other white girl shit that has no name, I temporarily forget what’s going to happen until it does and when it did, it happened too quickly. Out of nowhere, four cops surround Jules, wasting no time cuffing her. I know these cops and they aren’t rookies, not even close. Yanking her back really hard, I see her wince and immediately run to the back to keep Max away from the scene and to keep my own face hidden. Sprinting with all I’ve got, I see Macy’s long ass legs reach the door before I do. “Jonas! Max! The cops have Jules!”

  Not good.

  Max barrels past all of us, parting the crowd like Jesus to get to his wife. Anthony and I hang back, watching it unfold. Seeing how rough they’re being with her has Anthony holding me back.

  “Stay,” he orders me.

  Max screams to let them near her and when they see Rogan and Rafe barely holding him back, they allow it, sort of. Max looks so lost, asking her what to do. She tells him to call her team. Giving Jules the look, the one that says go with it, that this has t
o happen, I take a deep breath while watching them drag her away. Then I look at Anthony and whisper, “And so it begins.”

  She gives me that look back that tells me she gets it, and we exit the club quietly once they drive off with Jules. We drive home quietly and when Anthony climbs on top of me in his bed a couple of hours later, I was quiet then too.

  That night laying there, if I believed in that sort of thing, I would tell you that I had a premonition. And in it, one person brought the DPD to its knees.

  And that one person was me.

  But I don’t believe in premonition, I believe in ammunition.

  To put this to bed, I’m going to need more of it.

  Looking over at him, I realize that even though the list of people I care for is small, I would move heaven and earth to protect them. Anthony Gallo is officially #1 on that list.

  Because in my premonition, I lose him.

  When I left Max and Venessa to fend for themselves, I assumed Halina Tomek would be a very professional woman. That would be a no. Watching her work, she rarely spoke to anyone. When she’s forced to talk she was very clipped and extremely sarcastic. The officer’s gave her a wide berth and she seems to like it that way. It doesn’t stop them from staring when she bends over, but if they want her, they certainly don’t act on it.

  Probably because she would rip their heads off for trying. Venessa made her sound adventurous and mythic, but she looks childlike and bitchy. I was going to give up, I really was. I decided I built her up in my mind and allowed it to get carried away, wanting something that wasn’t real. But last night when she wrapped up her case early, I followed her, never expecting to see her at a homeless shelter for women and children. When her truck pulled up, she hauled in her body weight in plastic bags. Looking through the side window, I saw a woman who was giving mothers a break, playing with the kids and really fucking happy.

  She was laughing. She was joy in its purest form when she laughed.