I try to straighten my button-down black shirt before ringing the doorbell. I thought about wearing my uniform but decided against it. I’m not here as a cop, I’m here as a regular person wanting to pay their respects.
I straighten my back as I hear the door unlock from the inside. It swings open and a woman who looks to be in her early twenties stands before me. Her shoulder length jet-black hair looks unwashed. Her oversized shirt looks to be falling off her and her black yoga pants look like they are a size too big. But it’s her green eyes that look the worse. They look bloodshot and empty. Her cheeks are wet and her nose is red and raw. I feel the loss of the little girl all over again.
“May I help you?” Her voice is soft, yet sounds concerned.
“Hello…” I swallow nervously. How do I bring up something that she’s probably trying to forget? “My name is Parker. Officer Parker O’Hare,” I inform her, and her eyes start to water as if she knows why I’m here. My heart breaks. To avoid a breakdown of my own, I offer her the box. “I brought you some food.”
Tears run down her cheeks as she takes it from me. “Please come in.” She steps to the side.
“Oh, no…”
“Please,” she insists, and I hate to refuse her.
I nod my head. “Thank you,” I say as I enter her home. It’s small but nicely kept. There are pictures of the little girl that run the length of the mantel above the fireplace. She was adorable. She had green eyes like the woman standing in front of me. She had black hair like her as well, but it was a little curly. The very last picture is of her sleeping on a bed and it looks so much like when I saw her this morning. Peaceful.
“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” I say turning to face the mother. I can’t look at any more pictures of the little girl.
“You didn’t,” she says placing the box on the coffee table. “Can I get you anything?” she asks wiping the tears from her eyes.
“No, thank you.”
She looks me in the eye and I realize that I still have my sunglasses on. I don’t know why I was wearing them in the first place. The sun was starting to set outside. I quickly push them to the top of my head and try not to cringe when I run them over the top of my nose. “You were there?” she asks, taking a deep breath.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She gives me a small smile. “Please. Call me Taylor.”
I look down at the blanket that rests in my other hand. I don’t even think she knows I’m holding it, and I almost forget about it myself. “I thought you would want to have this,” I say walking over and offering it to her.
She slowly reaches out and takes it into her hands. Bringing the blanket to her chest, she hangs her head. I stand there and watch a mother cry for the loss of her child. An innocent child taken too soon from her loving mother.
She looks up at me and tears run down her face in streams. She sniffs and walks up to me. She wraps her arms around me, and I softly hug her back. “Thank you,” she cries into my chest. “Thank you for giving me a piece of my baby.”
And with those words, I allow a tear to slide down my cheek.
*****
KATHERINE
It’s been two weeks since I went ape shit on my ex, Rollin, and was arrested. I wish I could say that was the lowest I have ever been, but that would be a lie. And I’m not a liar. My father raised me to tell the truth. Now, don’t get that confused with someone who expresses every little feeling they ever have. That kind of shit I keep to myself. I don’t cry. Crying shows weakness and even the kindness of a person can turn on you at any given moment and use your weakness against you. Therefore, I stand strong and keep to myself mainly. It seems to work for the most part. The past two weeks have actually been pretty good. My father was released from the hospital and I took off some time to stay home with him. Today is the first day I’ve left the house. Today is the day that my friend, Missy, is getting married.
I sigh heavily as I look at myself in the full-length mirror. The purple dress fits perfectly, but I feel uncomfortable. It makes me look too pretty. Too done up. I wear make-up and fix my hair on a daily basis, but I feel the prettiest when I’m sure others think I look the ugliest. At the gym. When my body is exhausted and I’m sweating profusely—that is when I feel pretty. That is when I feel strong. When I feel like I have had enough, but I push myself to go further. Growing up, I was that really skinny, tall kid. You know the one I’m talking about. I had stick legs and bony arms. And on top of that, I was pretty tall for a girl. I finally stopped growing once I hit five-foot-nine at the age of sixteen. I was very thankful for that day. I had friends, but that didn’t mean that others didn’t look at me like I was a freak. Guys my age wouldn’t ask me out on dates and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna date a high school idiot anyway. I preferred the college kids. The college kids weren’t all that judgmental. They just wanted to get drunk or high. Back then, they called it chilling. So when I got out of school, I joined a gym and decided to use being small as an advantage.
I look in the mirror once again and smooth down the dark purple material. The softness of my palms makes me smile. And the fact that my girlfriend is getting married in about twenty minutes is the topping on the cake. Literally.
“I love these dresses,” Sam, a pretty brunette standing next to me, says. Her half-brother is Tate, the one who is marrying my good friend, Missy.
“Aren’t they?” I say with a smile. I’ve been in two weddings. One was a friend from high school who got pregnant right out of high school. She married the baby daddy, but it ended after a year. Who would have thought? The second wedding was a second cousin. The dress was hideous, but my father made me wear it. I burned it afterward.
“Speak for yourself,” Holly says with a frown. “I look hideous,” she whines as she runs her hand over her growing belly. “It makes me look like a giant grape.”
We all laugh. “You look adorable, sis,” Sam says placing her hand on Holly’s belly. Sam is married to Slade, who is Micah’s older brother and Holly’s husband. It can get confusing. They are all connected in some way; I’m the odd ball out. But they don’t treat me that way. They are all nice and very welcoming.
“You all look perfect!” Missy says as she turns to face us with a smile on her face and a small purple rose in her hair that she has pulled up into her veil. “I wanna do a toast real quick and tell you all how much I love you,” she says as Courtney, their other good friend, starts to pour us all a drink.
“I can’t,” Holly says placing up her hand.
“It’s sparkling juice,” Missy informs us. “I kept you in mind, Holly.”
Courtney passes them out. Once we each have one, Missy raises hers. “To my girls.”
“This toast should be about you,” I say with a frown. All the girls nod their heads, agreeing with me.
Missy shakes hers. “This day is about me. This moment is about you girls. I love you all.” She smiles. “Thank you for helping me make my day that much more beautiful by being a part of it. Cheers,” she says before she tosses her drink back, and we all follow after her.
“Who wants to take bets?” Courtney asks.
“Bets?” I ask curiously.
Sam answers my question. “All of our men are always betting on things.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s quite comical.” She turns to face Courtney. “What did you want to bet on?”
“I was thinking Parker.” She laughs. “I bet he bangs someone in the hall closet before Missy and Tate can even cut the cake.” She chuckles to herself.
“Who’s Parker?” I ask.
Sam turns to me. “He’s the guys’ annoying friend. You know how everyone has that one friend who fucks everything? That’s him. And at my and Slade’s wedding, he slept with Holly’s cousin in the closet.” Holly sighs heavily. “And then he kissed Tate’s mother,” Sam continues. “It was quite comical.”
“Sounds like he’s a douche,” I say then cringe when I realize how bitchy it was to talk bad about their friend. “Sorry.”<
br />
“No. He is.” Missy laughs. “But no worries. I already told him no sex at our wedding or reception.”
“You can’t tell that boy anything,” Courtney adds. Then she points at me. “Be careful; you’re the only single bridesmaid. And you’re hot.” I laugh. “So keep an eye on him. He will try to hump your leg.”
“I can handle myself,” I say with a smile making everyone laugh.
“It’s time to go, ladies.” Sam places her empty glass back on the tray and grabs Missy’s from her.
“Go ahead. I’ll be right there,” I call out as they all exit the room. I take one last look at myself, reapplying my lip-gloss, when I see the door open behind me in the mirror.
“Well, well, well.” I hear a man’s voice behind me at the door. “So, you’re the beautiful woman I’ll be escorting down the aisle?”
I grab the skirt to my dress and pull it up allowing me to spin around. My mouth instantly goes dry the second I see who the guy is. Fuck me! Can my luck get any worse?
CHAPTER SIX
PARKER
Holy shit! “No way,” I say as a smile spreads across my face. “So, you are Missy’s friend?” I shouldn’t have missed rehearsal yesterday. I had to work and I told Tate it wasn’t that big of a deal. All I had to do was walk down the aisle. How was I supposed to know that I was gonna be walking with a crazy psycho bitch?
“You fix up nice,” I say as I allow my wandering eyes to look at her slim body wrapped in that tight purple dress. It hugs her chest perfectly. Showing me just the tops of her breasts. Not too trashy but definitely doesn’t hide the huge things. It has a white, thick piece of fabric that goes around her waist before the dress flares out.
She takes a step back. “This can’t be happening.”
I laugh as I run a hand over my tux. “I actually think it’s quite funny.”
She turns around giving me her back as she looks at herself once again in the mirror. “You have the wrong room.”
I frown. “Tate told me that I was escorting Katherine?” I ask with a smile. “You are Katherine, correct?”
She narrows her eyes at me in the mirror. “Do you prefer Kat? Maybe Kitty?” I raise my eyebrows as I get an idea. “Oh, how about Kitty Kat?” I laugh at myself. “I’ve always been a fan of pet names.” Her body stiffens. “Would you like to be my pet for the day?” I try to ask with a straight face. “I have a pussy at home, but she…”
“Fuck this,” she hisses, interrupting me. “I’m not walking anywhere with you. You son…”
“Whoa,” Tate says entering the room. “What’s going on in here?” he asks giving me narrowed eyes. “I can hear you from down the hall.”
I shrug. “Ask her.” I allow my eyes to look her up and down once again. I was being serious when I said she cleaned up nicely. But I know that it doesn’t matter how many times you shower, you can’t wash the bitch off.
She huffs as she places her hands on her hips. “I can’t walk with him,” she states to Tate.
Tate looks over at me, and then back to her. “Why not?”
“This jackass arrest…”
“Whoa.” I throw my arm up interrupting her. “I was just doing my job,” I say defensively.
“You weren’t doing shit!” she throws back
“You practically broke my nose,” I say pointing at it. It’s been two weeks, and it still hurts when I go to blow it.
She throws her head back and laughs an evil laugh, which fits her quite well. I kinda like it. I’m so tired of those women who try to be someone they’re not. I’ve been around enough bitches to know they all have a crazy side. She just lets hers hang out. It’s an attractive trait, if I must say so.
“You showed up not even bothering to ask what the hell was going on. Just sticking your nose where it didn’t belong. You’re lucky that’s the only thing I broke,” she sneers.
I take a step toward her. “I did, too. You were too busy fucking shit up…” Tate’s hand comes out, landing on my chest to stop me.
“Wait a second…” He pauses. He looks back and forth between the two of us. “Is this…? Is this the bitch…?” He stops when her eyes narrow and her nose flares. “The bitch you arrested?” he finishes in a whisper. I told all the guys about my nose accident a few days later when we all went out for drinks. They laughed their asses off.
“Yep,” I say with a smirk, and she points her finger at me.
“You had no business being there.”
“You could have killed him.” Hell, she head butted me. A police officer. His clothes were barely hanging on. Would she have used that bat on him instead of the truck? I wouldn’t put that past her.
“Please,” she sneers, “that son of a bitch deserved the kick in the nuts. And if given the chance, I would have kicked you in the balls as well.”
“You little bit…”
“Stop!” Tate demands. He turns to me. “This is my wedding day. Grow the fuck up and be the better person.” He then turns to her. “Missy is already a nervous wreck. Please. Try to make this day easier for her.”
She sighs heavily and hangs her head before she gives a soft nod. “Thank you,” he says before he grabs my arm and all but yanks me out of the room.
“Tate…”
“I don’t give a fuck,” he growls. “Do you understand that? I don’t care if you hate her. Or if you think she’s crazy. I will show you crazy-ass bitch if this doesn’t go smoothly.”
And he’s right. Today is his day. Missy has waited all her life for her wedding, so I will be the better friend and not fuck shit up for her. I slap him on the shoulder and give him a smile. “I understand perfectly. Come on, man. You need a drink.” I could use one as well.
He pulls on the collar of his suit and takes a deep breath. “Yes, another one couldn’t hurt. It’s not like the other three have done anything for me.”
I laugh as I start to walk him down the hallway. “Just relax.” I saw Missy earlier, and she didn’t seem as stressed as he was. She was smiling and laughing. And she looked absolutely beautiful. Tate’s a lucky guy.
He stops walking and turns to face me. His always dark blue eyes, the ones that always have that hard look to them, seem to soften as the corner of his mouth starts to turn up at the corners. “She chose me,” he says, and I frown, not quite understanding what he means. Wedding talk is over my head. “Missy chose me out of everyone in the world. She chose to save me. She chose to love me. I never thought that it could feel this good. So amazing. That something so beautiful would love me for all my darkness and scars.” I stand before him wide-eyed and half-dazed. Tate doesn’t open up to others. I don’t care how close of a friend he considers you; he just doesn’t open up about his feelings.
He looks down at his hands. He fists them and it makes the scars even more noticeable. “But she did and I’m amazed at that every day.” He places his hand on my shoulder and pats it. “And that is also the scariest thing in the world. Do you know how that makes me feel?”
“Happy?” I’m so confused by what direction he is going with this.
Tate looks back behind me at something that catches his attention. And I spin around to see Katherine standing there with her bouquet in her hands. She squares her shoulders and gives a smile. The kind of smile that shows off all of her perfect white teeth and makes her look halfway normal for a split second. It’s the fakest smile I’ve ever seen, but I like it. I seem to like everything about her.
“We gonna get this wedding started or not?” She holds out her right elbow and I walk over to her.
“Yes, pussy cat,” I say placing my arm through hers and she lets out a long breath. I also like the fact that I irritate her. It can’t be easy for her, though. I remember how crazy she went that day in her front yard, and the fact that she fucked up her own shit. I’m sure having to be around me must embarrass her.
Tate smiles. “Go get in position.”
We turn around and I speak softly to her. “Don’t think I didn’t know t
hat smile was fake.” I like playing with her. She’s like a puppet and I can pull her strings. See just how crazy she can get.
She looks up at me. Her soft brown eyes look into mine. They’re beautiful. They have this gold trim that brings out the dark in the middle. They’re the kind of eyes that men call bedroom eyes. Fuck-me eyes. Don’t mind if I do…
“Only a faker can spot a fake out in the crowd.” I stop walking and she stops as well. She pulls her arm from mine and steps in front of me. “The difference between you and me is that I don’t care what others think of me. You call me a crazy bitch. But I am what I am. I don’t hide that. You hide behind a badge and your fake smile every day.”
I step up to her and she bows her chest, pressing her tits against my chest. My cock hardens, and it causes my anger to rise. “Listen, bitch. Don’t think that you know me.”
“But don’t I?” Her words are dripping with sarcasm. “We know each other so well.” She gives me a soft and cruel smile. Condescending bitch. “Faking it is the easy part.” She reaches up to adjust my tie as if I’m her date and she wants me to be perfect to show off to her friends. “It’s the truth that’s hard to face.”
My chest is bowed and my breathing is coming quicker. I know all about bitches like these. The ones who hate the world. They all have the same story—fell in love, gave away their virginity to a guy who ended up fucking more women than just them. And all other men must pay for it. Fuck that!
I take a step to her, thinking she would take a step back, but she doesn’t. She stands strong, pressing against me. “And what exactly is your truth?” I reach up and twirl one of her brown curls around my fingers, trying to make her as uncomfortable as I can. My actions are soft and sweet yet my words wanting to make her second guess them. “Because so far all I’ve seen is a woman who has a problem with authority.” Why does she hate cops so much? Is it just me or in general?
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