“I don’t know,” I whimpered.
“Mi, amor,” Nico’s voice intruded in my dream.
God, Nico. What do I do? My head thrashed back and forth as I tried in vain to get my hands free.
“Georgia, despertar mi amor,” Nico’s voice cracked through my horror like a thunderclap. “Wake up!”
My eyes opened to find Nico over me in the bed.
He was straddling my hips, and he was hunched over me. His beautiful brown eyes were wild as they stared down into mine.
“You with me, Georgia?” He rasped.
I nodded, “Yeah, I’m with you.”
His head dropped so his forehead rested against mine. “Ten years off my life, niña.”
I smiled sadly at him. “They never get easier.”
‘They’ meaning my dreams. They never lost their intensity. My dreams were vivid and real, and I relived the worst day of my life over and over again, when something triggered them.
He shook his head. “No, they don’t.”
His voice held the pain of a thousand sins, and I so desperately wanted him to know that he had helped me. That he was the one that made me live.
“You know why I survived that night?” I asked, staring at his neck.
He shook his head as my eyes closed and then reopened. A lone tear trailed down my face as I exhaled.
“You taught me how to get out of cable ties. I watched you do that a hundred times when we were younger. I remembered your voice as I did it. I replayed exactly what to do a hundred times in my brain. I blanked out my thoughts, and just did it. It was your reassuring voice that got them out of the house alive. You’re the reason we’re all alive today,” I whispered brokenly.
I saw the muscles of his neck work as he swallowed thickly. “That was supposed to be a party trick. I thought you’d find it cool.”
I gave him a watery laugh. “Well, your party trick worked, and I’ll forever be grateful.”
He leaned down and pressed those full lips against my forehead, then fell over to his side and gathered me into his arms.
“So…obviously, I know not to wake you up by grabbing your ankle again,” he replied jokingly.
I snorted. “Yeah, let’s not.”
He stayed silent for a few moments, and my eyes started to drift closed, but his voice made me open them once again.
“If you ever wake me up, make sure you don’t do it while standing over me. Do it, preferably, with a long stick by the doorway,” he said dryly.
Or at least I thought he was kidding.
“You’re kidding, right?” I asked.
He smiled. “Sort of. Just don’t stand over me and you should be fine. Bennett tried that one night after I fell asleep at his place after a ball game. He got power slammed into his coffee table when he went to wake me up.”
I rolled until my face was level with his. “What the fuck are you doing in my room at,” she looked at her clock on the nightstand then back to me. “Five in the morning?”
He pointed to a box on the end of the bed, and I gave him a good, long glare before I moved to grab the box.
The blanket that was covering my legs slipped until my lower half was revealed. I’d thought that the simple pair of cotton shorts that covered my butt was conservative, but obviously I was a little naïve when it came to my clothes.
Moments later, when I sat back in my original position with the box in my lap, I stifled a giggle when I saw Nico conspicuously readjusting the large tent in his soccer shorts.
I tossed a look at him and he shrugged, not apologizing at all.
I opened the box to try to cover up my nervousness, and stared at the contents in confusion.
He grinned unrepentantly at me. “You up for some soccer?”
***
I ran up the length of the field with a large man at my back. His name was Michael, and he was incredibly competitive.
He also didn’t like when he was losing against a girl.
My new pink cleats tore into the spongy grass, trying my hardest to get into position to accept the pass that I knew Nico was about to lob at me from his position across the field.
My lungs were screaming at me for oxygen, but I pushed harder, practically feeling Michael’s pounding feet catching up to me.
My heart was beating quickly, and my hair was sticking to my damp forehead.
Then the moment I was expecting to happen happened, and he side footed the most beautiful arcing pass I’d seen.
It hit the sweet spot of my foot like it was meant to. One of the most perfect passes I’d ever witnessed.
I juggled the ball ten more yards, coming to a stop and firing off the shot at the goal.
The goalie blocked it, like I knew he would. He was too good.
However, Nico, my Diablo, was better.
He was there, bouncing the ball off his chest, then firing the shot like a bullet from a gun.
The ball slapped against the back of the net, and I screamed.
I was tempted to pull a Brandy Chastain, ripping my shirt from my body, but that’d look bad against a bunch of amateurs.
Nico and I were playing the rest of his team, which included Bennett, James, John, Luke, Downy, and Michael.
Bennett, of course, was the best on the other team since he’d played in high school and had kept up with the sport as Nico had.
Sadly, they were no match for Nico and me. We’d played together no less than thousands of times. Literally. We’d done this so many times that I knew, instinctually, what he’d be doing.
They never stood a chance.
I was, however, dying.
Once he scored, I fell down in an exhausted heap, laying my head down on the cool grass.
Shadows, one by one, fell on me, but I still didn’t move.
“I think you broke her,” Downy, the cute red-headed giant, said.
I snorted but continued along my path, thinking that a nap sounded pretty darn spiffy right now.
“She used to do that during high school, too. You wouldn’t even realize she was tired until she was laying on the field after the game,” Nico said, dropping down to one knee.
I rolled over onto my back to see all seven men leaning over me.
“I’m getting too old to play like that,” I panted.
He grinned. “You’re only twenty six.”
I waved an ambivalent hand. “Yeah, but I don’t recover like I used to.”
He grinned. “I have excellent stamina. Enough for the both of us.”
Before he could reply, the women and children entered the field, effectively putting a stop to anymore sexual innuendos.
“Holy crap,” Shiloh, James’ wife, exclaimed. “I wanna be you when I grow up!”
I’d been introduced to the other members of Kilgore SWAT this morning before we started playing.
The two wives, Shiloh and Reese, had showed up at half time with their kids. Reese belonging to Luke, and Shiloh belonging to James.
“I doubt it. I have arthritic knees, and I’m pretty sure my lower half won’t function for another half hour,” I gasped.
They all laughed, except Nico, who was busy staring down at my exposed stomach.
I looked down and noticed my scar was revealed, so I yanked it down quickly, covering it before anyone could ask where the scar had come from.
I wasn’t embarrassed about it, nor was I ashamed.
I just didn’t want to ruin the good day by explaining the scar, which I knew would be a mood killer.
Especially in front of a bunch of macho men that I knew wouldn’t like the fact that little old me had been hurt once upon a time.
“I think I need a hamburger,” I groaned as I sat up.
Nico didn’t move, which made the new position a very intimate one, seeing as we were nearly face to face and he was still kneeling over me.
He moved, albeit slowly, as the rest of his team spread out and started talkin
g about what Nico was making for dinner.
Nico and his teammates apparently had get-togethers once a month to ‘promote team health’ as their chief liked to call it. There, they were supposed to go over the past months’ events, and talk about them. Making sure everyone’s emotions were on track and in working order.
What apparently happened was that they drank beer and ate fattening food.
Coincidentally, I liked to do both, which was a bonus since Nico had practically demanded that I be there for it.
“Anything you want, niña,” Nico teased as he stood up and helped me to my feet.
I must’ve underestimated by ability to stand, because the moment my feet straightened and I put weight on them, I caught a Charlie horse in my leg that nearly took me down to my ass again.
Nico caught me up to his chest, and I started to whine. “Oh, my God. It’s in my butt. Owww!”
I was drawing attention to myself, but the pain of the cramp was excruciating.
I tried in vain to work the cramp out of my left ass cheek, but gave up when Nico’s hand replaced my own, rubbing in a slow, rough circle on the cheek of my ass.
I sighed as he slowly worked the Charlie horse out with movements that could rival a god.
“I can’t say that I’ve ever had one of those before,” I sighed when the cramp became little more than an annoying discomfort, allowing me to finally realize just how close Nico and I were standing.
My wet, sweaty body was plastered up against his and I reluctantly withdrew from his arms.
It might have been just me, but I almost felt like he was reluctant to let me go, too.
What are you doing Georgia Valentine? This is a bad…bad idea.
Chapter 5
Does it feel weird to have a penis between your legs?
-Georgia to Nico
Nico
“What’s going on?” I asked as I walked up to the closest cop.
His name was Stoddard, and he was one of the most experienced cops on the force.
We were at the site of a traffic accident, and it looked like everyone was okay, and all the cars were moved, save for a few patrol cars and an older model truck. Which was why I couldn’t figure out what the holdup was.
I’d parked nearly thirty cars back, and pulled off the side of the road
“There’s an altercation between a few of the motorists. The guy in the truck refuses to move his truck because he says there’s something down in the river, and he wants someone to look at it.” Goddard shook his head. “He threw his keys down there in hopes that we’d look, and I’m now waiting for a tow truck.”
I walked to the bridge, scanning the water. “What does he say is in there?”
Goddard walked up next to me and looked down at the muddy water of the Sabine with me. “He says he saw something black when he was driving by, but I don’t see anything.”
“Black as in a vehicle, or black as in a fish?” I asked.
The man in question started yelling, pointing down at something in the water.
At first I didn’t see it, thinking the man was batshit just like Goddard did, but then I saw what looked to be like a rounded…something, covered in black, bobbing up and down with each current of water.
I walked down the road and rounded the edge of the bridge, staying along the bank as I continued to scan the water in the area I’d last seen the flash of black.
From this angle, though, I could definitely tell that something was there.
A man had his boat docked on the edge of the boat ramp, waiting for the commotion of the accident to settle down before he left.
I walked up to him and offered him my hand.
He looked like he’d been on the river for the last forty years. His skin was craggy and sun drenched. Deep laugh lines lined his mouth and eyes.
His hair was a bleach blonde, and he had so many freckles covering his face that I couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended.
“How are you doing?” I asked, offering the old fisherman my hand.
He took it, shaking it once, before dropping it again.
“I’m good, how about yourself?” He replied.
I shrugged. “Not even eight in the morning and I’m already busy.”
He laughed with me, nodding his head in agreement.
“What’s going on?” He asked, gesturing to the commotion up above.
I nodded to the area of the river where I kept seeing the bob of the black bag. “Do you mind taking me out there to see what that is? I have a man up there that swears there’s something down there, and I want to show him it’s nothing so he’ll move his truck.”
I don’t know what it was, maybe instinct, but, for some reason, I just had to show that man that it was nothing. Had to. I couldn’t not do it.
The man nodded and I found myself trailing up the river at an extremely slow pace. The old boat was fighting hard against the minuscule current.
The water was low for this time of year, but lack of rain and a drought would do that easily to this river. There were places that it was little more than a swift creek.
“Do you have a fish hook or anything?” I asked, gesturing to the bag.
He shook his head, and I sighed.
Of course it’d be me reaching in without any gloves on or anything.
That’s exactly what I wanted to do was stick my hands in a bag of trash.
Except it wasn’t a bag of trash.
In fact, it was a fucking body.
***
Six hours later
“I’m going to be late, mamá,” I sighed. “I’m in the middle of a shit storm of mass proportions, and I don’t’ have time to make it to dinner.”
My mother grumbled about me having a job that demanded too much of me, but there was little I could do. We’d had a homicide in our small town. In fact, it’d been multiple homicides.
What Officer Goddard had been trying to convince the poor old man was nothing, was in fact a dumping ground. It looked like it’d been used for going on years, and the only thing that’d made us privy to it now was that the river was low.
The river was dragged for nearly five hours, two miles upstream and two downstream, and in that four miles of river, three bodies were found.
My next call was to Georgia to apologize.
“Hello?” Georgia’s sweet, husky voice answered two rings later.
“Hey, niña. I’m going to be late, if I even come at all. I’ve tried to get out of here for the last hour, but it’s not looking good,” I said remorsefully.
I heard her exhale. “It’s okay. I heard what happened on the news. Are you okay?”
Her concern for me was touching. “Yeah, I’m okay. It was a surprise, that’s all.”
I’d seen dead bodies before. And I’d seen mass graves. However, that’d all been overseas. Not at home. And certainly not in my own backyard. That was something that happened anywhere but here.
“Okay. I’ll set up a different day with your mom. You should come over to my house when you’re done. It doesn’t matter what time it is,” she whispered.
I looked down at my hands and squeezed them into fists. “Sounds good, Georgia. Thank you.”
“Be safe,” she whispered, then hung up.
I placed the phone down in the receiver and then collapsed into my chair.
I had about eighteen more reports to fill out, and I could really tell that it’d be fun. Not.
It was when I was in my ninth report that I heard a soft knock on the door to my office.
I looked up to see Georgia there.
She was wearing black leggings, a baggy Gladewater Soccer shirt that looked remarkably familiar, and a small smile graced her lips.
“Hey,” I said, setting my pencil down.
My hand screamed in relief, and I stood up to clear my chair off.
She sat before she said anything, handing me food that smelled mouthwatering.
“Oh, my God. How’d you remember?” I asked as I dug into the gas station bag.
I had a soft spot for these chiquitos that the gas station near our place sold.
It was probably unhealthy as hell, but fuck, the taste was out of this world.
She rolled her eyes. “Nico, I remember everything. The way you roll your tongue when you’re concentrating. The way you crack your knuckles when you first wake up in the morning. Everything. Even your love for these vile things.”
I dug in and started to write again while she ate what looked to be a taco salad and played on her phone.
That was another thing about Georgia. She knew how to be silent.
I’m not saying that in a mean way or anything, but I’m not a talkative person, and she accepts that. She accepts me, bad attitude and all.
I finished my last three reports in silence, getting down to the very last report before she finally said something. “You’ll have to give me a ride home.”
I nodded, continuing to write. “10-4.”
She snorted but didn’t say anything else, only started gathering up our trash and tossing it into the garbage can beside my desk.
“I’m going to be tired tomorrow,” she giggled once everything was cleaned.
I flicked my eyes up to her and back down to my report. “It’s only eight thirty.”
She nodded. “Yeah, but I have to be at work at eight, which means I have to get up at five to workout, feed all the animals, and get to work.”
“Work?” I asked, raising my head.
She nodded. “Yeah, they want me to start tomorrow. Something about one of their other case managers being on maternity leave.”
I signed the bottom of my report and sat it in the stack of mail that I’d take by the chief’s office before I left for the night.
“I didn’t realize you were starting so early. You’ve only been here less than a week.” I stood. “Not to mention it’s the middle of the week? Who starts work in the middle of a week?”
“Social workers, obviously. Foster kids don’t take the weekend off, FYI,” Georgia said dryly.
I waved a dismissive hand. “That’s not what I meant, you little shit.”
God, it was like the last eight years hadn’t even happened.
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