by Tabatha Kiss
“What’s great about the burrito is that you can put whatever you want in it,” I say in front of my stove. “It’s completely customizable from the inside out.”
I look over my shoulder at the counter behind me. Charlotte nods, though I’m not sure she understands a word I’m saying. Not that I care. She’s so fucking adorable, she could smile and nod at me until the end of time and I won’t think less of her.
She takes another big bite of her little burrito, enjoying every bit of it. I beam with pride.
Anna sits on the stool beside her with her own half-eaten burrito. She’s also smiling but probably not for the same reasons I am. There’s a lot of lip-pressing behind her smile as if she’s desperately trying to hold back a laugh.
I turn back to my skillet. “For breakfast, you can add sausage or potatoes — oh, some green or red peppers and minced onions make for a good kick. Salsa is a given. You like salsa, Charlotte?”
“I don’t know,” she answers.
“Well, the next time we hang out, we’ll try some. I think you’ll like it. Sound good?”
I glance back again but she’s too busy chewing on another big bite to answer. Such a well-mannered kid. Anna taught her well. I sure as hell wasn’t this polite when I was her size.
I drop my own burrito on the last plate and turn off the stove. “Now, many people prefer to just wrap the thing in a tortilla and go but I always stick it over the heat. Just a few minutes of patience on both sides radically alters the experience.” I pick up my burrito and take a huge bite. “Mmm,” I hum, chewing. “Now, that is breakfast.”
Charlotte giggles and Anna finally lets a little bit of that laugh slip out.
I look down and cringe, realizing the bottom of my burrito split open and spilled a chunk of its contents out onto my shirt.
I chuckle and set it down again. “And that… is how we stay humble. Excuse me, ladies. I’ll be right back.”
I dip my head down and walk toward the laundry room in the back of my bathroom — though, laundry closet is probably a better term. There’s a basket sitting on top full of small, unfolded towels. I search my memory, wondering if they’re washed or not. I grab one and smell it. It’s clean.
“Hey, Milo.”
Anna stands in the doorway, still fighting the smile from taking over her face.
“Hey,” I say, wiping the mess off my shirt. “So, I totally meant to do this.”
“Oh, really?”
“Anything to make the kid laugh. Am I right?”
She steps in, her hands stiff at her sides. “Thank you for making her breakfast,” she says. “That was really sweet.”
“It was no problem,” I say. “My pleasure, honestly. She’s… she seems like a really cool kid.”
“She is — but I’m biased, so…”
I chuckle. “Yeah. Me, too. I guess.”
Anna fiddles with her index finger. “Milo, can I ask you another question?”
I toss the towel away. “Sure.”
She moves just a little bit closer and I pause, my eyes falling to her bottom lip pinched between her teeth. They press together again but she’s not holding back a laugh this time.
“You in there?” I ask.
“Kiss me again,” she says.
I smirk. “That’s not a question, Detective.”
She moves closer, so close I can almost feel her body heat. “Will you kiss me again?” she asks.
My tongue taps the roof of my mouth but I hold it back. “Why?” I ask.
“Because…” She looks down as I feel her fingers barely graze the front of my shirt. “Because I felt something last night and I need to know if it was just alcohol-laced adrenaline or not.”
My face burns. “Yeah. Sorry. Men can’t really control that…”
Her eyes grow wide. “No! No, not… I didn’t feel that. I actually didn’t know that you…”
I wince. “Oh.”
“Thanks, though,” she says. “That’s a compliment, I think.”
“It was!” I nod. “It was a very big… compliment.”
She smiles and my knees lurch. Her fingers put the slightest pressure on my abs, making the skin ignite beneath my shirt. “So, if the moment isn’t completely dead now… will you?”
“Not dead,” I say. “Moment still very much alive. Though, I gotta say, I kind of prefer it when women take charge and just go for it—”
“I haven’t done this in over five years.”
“Never mind.”
I cup her face and she tilts her head up as my lips lock with hers. At first, she feels stiff, fixed in place by nervous fear, but as my lips caress hers, she starts to move and blend her kiss with mine. I keep my tongue in check, holding it back until I know she’s ready.
Anna lays her hands flat on my sides. I feel her fingers tremble and I slowly wrap one arm behind her just in case it spreads to her knees.
She pulls away, breaking the kiss as she gasps for air. I quickly realize that I’m just as out-of-breath and I fill my lungs.
“Did you feel it?” I ask.
She nods. “Oh, yeah.”
“Good.”
I crush my mouth on hers again. Her hands clench my sides as I spin us around and lift her up to put her on the washer. My tongue takes over, gently swiping along her lips until she opens them for me. I spread her knees apart to get as close to her warm body as possible and she locks her ankles behind my back.
I push my hands up her body, feeling the trembles beneath her skin as they rock up and down her spine. Her hands slowly drop to rest just above my ass, staying there for what feels like an eternity before she works up the courage to go a little lower. Blood pounds through me as she grabs at me and I can’t help but dig my fingertips into her as well.
I move my hands beneath her shirt and she lurches back.
“Cold hands,” she says. “Cold hands.”
“Sorry.” I try and rub them together behind her back, refusing to unlock our lips. I give up and lay my palms down on her back, running them repeatedly up and down to spark some warmth.
Her face contorts as she holds back a laugh. “Uh…”
“Sorry—” I touch a bit of her skin beneath her top. “Good now?”
“Good enough.”
We kiss again, putting the awkward moment behind us as my hands slide up to her breasts. She feels and tastes as good as I thought she would but I want more. I want all of her. I’ve wanted her since the moment I saw that tight ponytail.
I inch a hand up her neck, curling it around behind her head to take hold of her hair. Her breath quivers as I grab her ponytail and gently ease her head back to get at her neck. Her nails dig deeper into my back with each bite and kiss I leave on her skin. A moan trembles her throat, vibrating my lips as I hook my other hand along the top of her jeans.
“Too fast,” she gasps. Her body locks. “Too, too fast.”
I release her hair. “Okay, we can slow down.”
She pushes me away. “No, we can stop.”
The s-word. I take another step back, letting go of her jeans, too.
“Fuck…” She slides off the washer. “I can’t do this.”
I reach out but she slips away from me. “Wait, Anna—”
“I’m a cop and you’re…” Her chest heaves. “This is so inappropriate.”
I shrug. “So?”
She frowns. “So?”
“Yeah. So, what?”
“You’re a person of interest in my murder investigation,” she says. “I could lose my job over this.”
“I’m also the father of that girl out there,” I argue. “This ain’t exactly black and white.”
“Okay…” She straightens up. “Let’s get one thing perfectly straight here, Milo. You are not a father. You might be genetically related to her but in no way have you earned that title, so don’t start throwing it around like it means something.”
I step back again. “Oh, is that how it is?”
“Yes.”
“Anna,
I—”
“Detective,” she says.
I scoff. “Guess that settles that, doesn’t it?”
Anna looks down and walks out of the room. “Charlotte, it’s time to go,” I hear her say.
I stand still, listening to the two of them get ready. They aren’t just going home. They can’t go home. They’re going back onto the streets where anything could happen. The Quinns want her dead and Daniel definitely won’t be happy until that happens. I can’t let them go out there. I just can’t…
I follow her into the kitchen as she helps Charlotte slip her shoes on. “What about the Quinns?” I ask. “Where are you gonna go?”
“We’ll be fine, Milo,” she says without looking. “My family has a decent reputation for taking care of the mob.”
“They’re really not happy. I don’t think you realize who you’re up against here.”
“Where’s your jacket, Charlotte?” she asks, ignoring me. Charlotte points to the bedroom. “Go get it, honey. I’ll wait right here.”
I watch Charlotte walk from here into my room. Little, tiny feet. Adorable hands. Those fucking eyes.
She’s my daughter.
“Anna.”
She glares at me. “Thanks for the help last night but I’ll take it from here.”
“Anna—”
“Milo, I’m a homicide detective in Boston, Massachusetts,” she says. “I got this.”
Charlotte returns with her pretty pink jacket in hand. I step toward her, drawing a quick inhale from Anna but she swallows the objection.
“Let me help you,” I say, kneeling in front of Charlotte.
I take the jacket from her and hold it up. She instantly turns around and slips her arms in. I push it over her shoulders. My heart pounds, counting down the seconds until her mother drags her out of here.
“It was nice hanging with you, Charlotte,” I say.
The girl smiles, showing off her dimpled cheeks.
Anna holds out her hand. “Come on, Charlotte. Say goodbye to Milo.”
“Bye, Milo,” she says to me.
I poke the edge of her cheek just beneath her eyes. My eyes.
“Goodbye, Charlotte,” I say, my throat tightening.
Anna takes her hand and leads her out the door. She gives a quick look back at me before it closes behind them. It’s hard and full of determination. On one hand, I’m happy she’s so strong. Charlotte will grow up with a decent role model. I can already picture her fighting back against the boy who won’t stop tugging on her hair or speaking up when her friends get bullied.
On the other hand, if Anna has her way, I won’t be there to see any of it.
Then again, should I even be there in the first place?
I stand up and look around my empty apartment. Anna’s right. I’m not a father. Never have been. I’m a scam artist. A thief. I run a food truck where I sell tacos out the front and run contraband out the back. I lie for a living and I’ve never once felt badly about it.
I have no real life here. No real job. No family. One wrong move and I’ll be arrested. One slip and the mob will find me.
I walk over to my desk and sit down with my box of IDs and passports. It’ll take a day to create everything I need to start over somewhere new.
Then, it’s time to go.
Twenty-One
Anna
I peek through the blinds and look down at the street outside the bakery. The normal, everyday crowds walk through their normal, everyday lives while I feel like my own is anything but normal.
I don’t run from my problems. I always fight them head-on. But today, I’m stuck. Now that the adrenaline has faded, I’m paralyzed.
They went after my baby.
They went after his baby. Milo risked his life to save us but I panicked in his arms and pushed him away.
I glance around Vincent and Evey’s apartment. It really does feel cramped. It’s about to get worse with me and Charlotte hiding out up here but we won’t be here forever.
Hopefully.
Things will go back to the normal, everyday routine but I’m not sure how it could. No, scratch that.
I’m not sure I want it to.
The door opens at the bottom of the stairs and I listen to the familiar stomp of Vincent’s tough stride. He walks in with a duffel bag in one hand and Trevor follows close behind him.
“How did it go?” I ask.
Vincent reaches into the bag. “Cell phone,” he says as he pulls mine out.
“Yes! Thank you.”
He tosses it underhand and I catch it. “Also grabbed a few pairs of clothes for you and Charlotte.”
“How did the house look?” I ask, dreading the question.
“It’s trashed,” he says. “Doesn’t look like they stole much — if anything — so I think they just wanted to piss you off.”
I flex my jaw. “It’s working. Did you talk to Sally?” I ask Trevor.
“Yeah,” he answers. “I explained the situation. She’s keeping it out of the press for as long as she can and wants you to stay here until we can figure out who attacked you.”
“Sounds good,” I say.
Trevor shakes his head. “How did you know they were coming?” he asks.
“I didn’t. I saw them park in the street outside,” I say, making it up as I go. “Saw the guns, grabbed Charlotte, and ran out the back. Once they kicked the door in, I put her in the car and bolted.”
“Where’d you go?”
“Motel,” I answer. “Paid cash and laid low until morning.”
“Lucky break,” Vincent says, his nose curling. “You looked outside just in time?”
He senses bullshit. If there’s anyone more tuned to it than me, it’s my ex-Navy SEAL little brother. “Well, sometimes paranoia works out,” I say, deflecting.
He nods.
Trevor crosses his arms. “You didn’t see their faces?”
I shake my head. “No, I didn’t get a good look at them.”
“I’d bet a mint it was that damn taco guy.”
I frown. “Milo?”
“Yeah, who else?”
“No. He’s not the type.”
“There you go again, Anna,” he says. “He’s a mob schmuck with a criminal record and a score to settle,” he argues. “Who else could it be?”
I bite my tongue. I want to defend him more but it might look suspicious if I do. I have no reason to side with Milo… that they know of.
I shrug. “I don’t know.” I rub the back of my neck. “Anyway, thanks for checking out the house,” I tell them. “I really appreciate it.”
Trevor nods. “I should get back to the station and find someone’s ass to kick.”
I gesture to the stairs. “I’ll walk you out.”
I avoid Vincent’s eyes as I walk down the stairs but I feel his hard stare all the way down. Trevor follows me down to the bakery kitchen and pauses by the back exit.
“I’ll keep you updated on what we find,” he says. “Stay low for a while, all right?”
“Will do.” I cross my arms. “Thank you again, Trevor. Life constantly reminds me that I can count the number of people I trust on one hand. It’s nice to know you’re still among them, even after all the bullshit my stubborn gut gets us into.”
He smiles. “Which finger am I?”
I flip my middle finger up and we laugh.
“I was hoping for the pinky,” he jokes.
“Maybe someday you’ll get there.”
He bites his inner cheek. “Listen, Anna, if you and Charlotte ever need anything, I’m here.” He lays a soft touch on my arm and makes eye contact. “Anything. That’s the way it is, no matter how many arguments we get into during a case. Okay?”
I look down at his fingers wrapped around my elbow. “Uh, thanks, Trev,” I say, easing back. “But I think we’ll be okay.”
His hand lingers on me for another moment before he lets go. “Stay safe, partner,” he says.
“You, too.”
He
slides his sunglasses on and steps out into the alleyway. I close the door behind him, giving it a good yank to make sure it latches.
“Anything else I need to know?”
I look at Vincent standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Nope,” I say, shrugging. “I’m gonna go check on Charlotte.”
His eyes narrow but he doesn’t ask questions. “I’ll bring up some lunch,” he says. “Coffee?”
“And lots of it,” I say with a nod. “Thanks.”
I pass by him and head back upstairs, my guts churning with each step. I hate lying to my brother. I’m not even sure why I did. Milo’s officially a dirty little secret. That will come back to bite me eventually but I can come up with a good excuse before then.
Hopefully.
Twenty-Two
Milo
Before I go, I want to see Charlotte again.
I walk down the street with a backpack full of nothing but the essentials: a few stacks of money and a new identity. Driver’s license, Social Security card, US passport. Everything I need to ease off the grid and out of Boston for good. I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again, but this time feels different.
There was nothing keeping me in Cleveland. Or Des Moines. Or anywhere else I’ve hopped around. Boston, however, is a different story. A slightly more complicated one, too.
I come to a stop outside of Muffin Top. Of all the times I’ve walked into this bakery for a cookie and a cup of coffee, I never once knew that my daughter might have been upstairs. Or sitting at the table behind me with crayons and a juice box. I’ve seen a lot of weird shit but I can honestly say that nothing has ever blown my mind quite as much as that fact.
I stand at the corner of the building by the alleyway and crane my neck around to look through the window. There’s about a dozen or so smiling, happy customers sitting at the tables. Men, women, a few kids, but not my kid.
“Can I help you, sir?”
I turn to see a short, plump woman in black standing behind me. “No, thank you,” I tell her.
She eases forward, her eyes shifting up and down. “Are you looking for somebody?” she asks.
“Yeah, a girl.”
“A girl?” she repeats.