Pretty Dirty Trick

by Tabatha Kiss

  Maybe not literally but it certainly feels that way.

  I squint at the white fluorescent lights above my bed. My entire body feels numb but warm. My tongue seems twice its normal size, begging for water.

  I try to raise my head, looking down toward my feet. There’s a pair of shoes resting on top of the covers and I follow the set of long legs up to Anna’s sleeping face. She sits in a chair next to the bed with my jacket draped over the top of her like a security blanket.

  She stirs in the chair, stretching out to try and get comfortable but it seems more than a little impossible in that position. She gives up and opens her eyes slowly to glance around the room beneath those thick lashes.

  “Hey there,” I say.

  She sits up, instantly awake. “Hey.”

  Her warm hand entwines with mine.

  “I’m alive,” I say.

  “You are.”

  “How long have I been out?”

  “A while,” she says. “You had some surgery.”

  I chuckle but instantly regret it. “Ouch...”

  “Try not to move too much,” she warns. “Laughter isn’t the best medicine right now…”

  I look down at the bandage circling my torso. “I got shot,” I say, slowly remembering.

  “You did,” she confirms.

  “How bad is it?”

  “You were lucky. The bullet hit a rib, so that’s gonna sting for a while, but no major organ damage.”

  A little more memory comes back to me.

  “Did Vincent do it?” I ask.

  “No.” She chuckles.

  “I vaguely recall a very tall, very angry, baker.”

  “He’s the one who found you,” she says. “Trevor shot you.”

  “Oh, yeah...”

  The clouds in my head disperse. I remember Trevor. He killed Canon. And Doogan — or Wells, I guess.

  “Tell me you took down that dirty cop piece of shit.”

  “He’s dead,” she says.

  “Cool.” I cough. “Was it painful? I hope it was painful.”

  “A little. Though, I hear going down covered in your hot sauce isn’t the worst way to go.”

  “What?”

  She lays a hand on my shoulder. “Just try and relax for now, okay? I’ll tell you all about it later.”

  I notice the bandage wrapped around her elbow. “Wait. What happened to you?” I ask, trying to point.

  She forces my hand back down to my side. “You needed blood. I needed you. It was a fair trade.”

  “You gave me blood?”

  “Yeah,” she says.

  “How’d you know my blood type?”

  “Didn’t need it. I’m O-neg.”

  “Cool. I’m O-pos,” I say.

  She smiles. “Charlotte, too.”

  “Is that right?”

  I lie back and breathe as a rush of dizziness hits me. Anna looks at me with growing concern in her eyes and I rub my thumb along the side of her hand.

  “I got Silva blood in me, eh?” I murmur.

  “And lots of it,” she says.

  “I thought I was feeling unusually cocky.”

  She laughs, her eyes shimmering a little.

  I try to raise my right wrist but it tugs back down with a dull clink. I look at the silver metal cuff latching me to the bed and I groan. “That’s not a good sound...”

  “Don’t worry about it right now,” she says.

  “Am I going to jail?” I ask her.

  Anna exhales. “They’re coming to talk to you soon,” she says slowly. “Just... try and relax. You’re not going anywhere yet.”

  “Ehhhh.” I settle back down. “Where’s Charlotte? Is she all right?”

  She smiles. “Yeah, she’s fine. She’s with Vin and Evey.”

  “Good.” I close my eyes, feeling tired again. “Hey, Anna.”

  “Yeah?”

  “If I go to jail, let me see her one last time. Please?”

  Anna squeezes my hand.

  “You will,” she says, as I drift off. “I promise.”

  * * *

  Another day, another interrogation room.

  To be honest, I’m kind of happy to see it after spending days handcuffed to a hospital bed. I might as well try and enjoy being out and about while I can. Pretty soon, that mirrored wall ahead of me will be replaced with bars. This table will be a shitty cot and the chair I’m on will be a rusty, old toilet. I hope my cellmate is cool. And hopefully not creepy but, then again, my luck…

  The door opens and a female officer walks in. She holds a folder in her hand and moves slowly, favoring one leg over the other, but that doesn’t make her look any less intimidating.

  “Hello, Mr. Murray,” she says as she sits down across from me. “I’m Officer Sally Gilmore.”

  “Hello, Sally,” I say.

  She glares at me over the rims of her glasses. “Officer Gilmore.”

  So, that’s where Anna gets it.

  “Sorry,” I say. “Hello, Officer Gilmore.”

  “How are you feeling?” she asks, her eyes briefly flicking downward at my gut.

  “Sore,” I answer. “And surprisingly itchy.”

  “That’ll go away. Eventually. Be thankful the bullet went right through you instead of bouncing around your torso and shredding all your insides into cat food.”

  I clear my throat at the visual image. “Okay.”

  “Mr. Murray, they sent me in here to present your options to you,” she says, her voice fast and dry. “That’s not usually in my job description but given recent events, the Chief, the ADA, the Mayor of Boston, and Internal Affairs are keeping this case close to the chest. Details are need-to-know only.”

  I nod slowly, bracing myself for the worst. “Makes sense.”

  Her hand flicks the folder open. “Long story short, the ADA has agreed to grant you full immunity—”

  I pump my arm. “Yes!”

  “As long as…” she continues over me, “you agree to divulge any and all details of organized criminal activity in the city of Boston, and the surrounding area, you might be aware of. Past or present.”

  “Done. Let’s do it.”

  “And…” She glares hard at my interruption again. “Starting right this moment, you are on permanent probation.”

  I blink. “I’m what?”

  “If you so much as get a speeding ticket, you will be arrested and given an automatic minimum twenty-year prison sentence with no eligibility for parole.”

  “For a speeding ticket?”

  She sneers. “For aiding and abetting the Irish mafia in drug trafficking and murder.”

  “Oh.” I sigh. “Right.”

  “Also, fraud,” she adds. “Lots and lots of fraud.”

  “Yeah…”

  “An impressive amount of fraud.”

  “I get it.”

  She turns the folder toward me, revealing a document full of legal jargon, including a shiny, black pen just waiting for me by the dotted line.

  “Do we have a deal, Mr. Murray?” Sally asks.

  I glance behind her at the mirrored wall that’s not actually a mirror. I wonder if Anna’s behind it, watching and waiting for me to sign my life over. Either way, I walk out of this room and into a prison.

  Can I really give it all up? The excitement and thrill of the scam? I don’t even remember what life looked like before I learned to lie and deceive to get everything I wanted.

  “Mr. Murray?”

  “No.”

  “No?” she repeats.

  “It’s Tyler,” I say. “My name is Jacob Tyler.”

  Sally picks up the pen and clicks it. “Then, do we have a deal, Mr. Tyler?” she asks, holding it out to me.

  I look over at her impatient face, wondering if she’ll leap over the table and stab me with that pen if I wait long enough.

  The intercom clicks on by the wall.

  “Just sign the damn thing, Jake,” Anna says into it.

  I grin and take the pen. �
��Yes,” I say. “We have a deal.”

  “Excellent.” Sally yanks the paper away as soon as I’m done and shoves it back into the folder. “Now, get out of here and don’t do anything stupid. You will be contacted soon, so it goes without saying, but don’t leave town.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “My pen, please?”

  I drop it down in front of her and pull my hand back before she devours it whole.

  The door opens and Anna stands in the doorway with a happy smile on her face. “Thank you, Sally,” she says.

  Sally shakes her head slowly. “The things I do for Silvas…”

  Anna chuckles and pats Sally’s arm as she walks off into the hallway.

  I stand up, feeling the weight of what I’ve done hit my shoulders, then promptly slide right back off.

  “You okay?” Anna asks, looking at my wound with concern.

  I exhale hard as butterflies take pain’s place. “Damn right, I am.”

  Her smile returns.

  I walk over and lean in to kiss her but I stop an inch away. “Is PDA allowed here?” I ask. “I don’t want to get arrested again.”

  She tilts her head and kisses me anyway. “It’s worth the risk,” she says, our lips grazing.

  “I mean… you say that…” I quip, “but they aren’t gonna arrest you.”

  Anna takes my hand, still not caring, and we walk out into the hallway together.

  “Let’s get you home,” she says.

  “Is my apartment still a crime scene?” I ask. “I remember bleeding a lot on the floor…”

  “Oh, maybe…” She shrugs. “Well, you can hang out at my house until we can get in there and clean it up.”

  “Anna Silva, are you asking me to move in with you?” I tease.

  She halts her stride. “No! No, that’s not what I—”

  “Because that’s a huge commitment that shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

  “I didn’t mean that,” she sputters out. “I don’t want you to move in. I’ve never lived with a man before. I wouldn’t know the first thing about—”

  “You know,” I smile, “I’ve already been shot in the gut. You don’t have to kick a man while he’s down.”

  She squints. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

  “Always. But I will absolutely take your offer to hang out with you and Charlotte for a while. The sounds like fun.”

  “Okay,” she says with a nod. “We’ll be happy to have you.”

  I squeeze her hand. “And then…” I sigh. “Once I’m better, I’m gonna need to find a job. A real one without crime and mobsters.”

  “Got anything in mind?”

  “Not really…” We start down the hall again. “My truck is gone. So, bye-bye, Hot Sauce.”

  She gasps. “No more secret Mayan sauce recipe for the great people of Boston?” she asks.

  “Mayan?” I scoff. “I swiped that thing off some old lady’s blog.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I knew it.”

  “Hey—” I nudge her arm. “Maybe I can join the police academy.”

  Her smile drops fast. “God, no.”

  “Why not?” I chuckle. “In a few months, I could be patrolling the streets with you. It’d be fun!”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Okay, then. What do you suggest I do?” I ask.

  Anna pauses, pressing her lips together as she thinks for a moment. Her brows arch suddenly and she smiles. “You have experience owning and operating a small business, right?”

  “I guess you could say that, yeah.”

  “You can follow a recipe,” she muses. “And you know your way around a kitchen. I’ve seen it myself…”

  I furrow my brow. “Anna?”

  “Fast learner? Punctual?”

  “Yeah…” I study her sinister eyes. “What is it?”

  “I think I might know just the thing.”

  “Well, you can tell me about it on the way. I’m covered in jail again and I’m in desperate need of a bubble bath.”

  “Okay, but before we go…” she smiles, “there’s someone here whose been asking about you.”

  I grunt. “Who?”

  She tilts her head and I follow the gesture through the crowd of detectives and desks to the little girl sitting in a chair beneath a sunny window. She looks down at a picture book in her lap and she’s still got that pink stethoscope hanging around her neck.

  Charlotte.

  “Her?” I ask.

  Anna nods. “Her.”

  “She’s been asking about me?”

  “She has.”

  I clench my chest. “Be still, my heart.”

  “I think she has a little crush on you.”

  “Can you blame her, though?” I laugh, feeling warmth all the way through my toes. “Who knew the way to a child’s heart was through a decent breakfast burrito?”

  “Who knew?” She chuckles.

  I pause to look at Anna. “Now, a woman’s, on the other hand… that’s a little trickier than a burrito.”

  She smiles. “Well, keep doing what you’re doing,” she says. “You’ll make progress.”

  Charlotte looks up from her book. Her eyes flick right to us and her smile is instantaneous. She waves, her little fingers waging back and forth at me.

  “Oh, man,” I say, waving right back. “My knees. They’re failing me.”

  Anna laughs and latches onto my arm. “Come on.”

  “Wait, wait…” I pull her back to me. “I have to ask you a question.”

  “What?”

  I inhale, taking in the moment. “Kiss me,” I say.

  She bites her lip. “That’s not a question — and what about PDA? You could be arrested.”

  I cup her face. “I don’t care. I’m a bad guy.”

  Anna laughs as I kiss her. Her arms wrap around my neck and her lips part to kiss me back. I break away to rest my forehead on hers and I fall for her even more. I fall for both of them. The whole damn Silva family.

  “Let’s go home,” she says, “Jake.”

  I nod as my heart pounds faster.

  Epilogue

  Anna

  Three Months Later

  I wake up slowly, feeling a tick in the back of my mind. There was something I needed to do this morning but I’m not quite awake enough to remember—

  I sit up and my lips twitch into a smile.

  It’s baby-making day.

  I roll over, feeling along the covers toward Jake’s side of the bed… but it’s gone cold.

  I look to the bathroom. The door is closed but a faint light shines in from the bottom.

  I hop out of bed and walk over to slide the door open.

  Jake stands in front of the sink in a white button-down shirt and black pants. He holds up two ties in the mirror, silently choosing which to put on.

  “Hey.” He smiles, catching my eyes in the mirror. “Good morn—”

  “Where are you going?” I ask, squinting.

  “To work. I know we did this yesterday but — one last time — blue or red?”

  “Red. You’re going in now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why so early?”

  He flops the red tie around his neck and stares into the mirror ahead of him. “Vin wants me there by six to go over a few last-minute things before the grand open—”

  “But we need to have sex!”

  His fingers pause mid-knot. “We do?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my hormones have spiked,” I say. “I’m dropping an egg at any moment here.”

  He glances at his watch. “Will ten hours really make a difference?”

  “I don’t know…” I stutter. “But I do know that I’m over thirty and my fertile window ain’t what it used to be. My cervical mucus is thin, white, and runny, meaning I have one or two days tops to—”

  “Anna, you really need to work on that dirty talk.”

  I slide my shorts and panties do
wn to the floor and hop up onto the counter in front of him.

  Jake sighs as I tug on his belt. “Anna…”

  “We’ll be really quick, I promise.”

  I pull his shirt free and he groans softly.

  “I just got that tucked the way I wanted it,” he says.

  I kiss the edge of his mouth. “You can tuck it back in. I believe in you.”

  “So, why are you late for work, Jake?” he quips. “Well, Vincent, you see, Anna is ovulating and she demanded my seed.”

  I shrug. “Sounds good to me.”

  “Oh, it might sound good to you but you’re not the one who has to tell your giant, mobster-killing, ex-SEAL boss that you just plugged his sister.”

  I push his zipper down. “You’ll be fine. Just come up with a different excuse for being late.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Eh— Eh—” He grabs my hands before I can get into his briefs. “Gotta pay up if you want extra sauce.”

  My cheeks flush with frustration. “Tell him that there was an accident on the 93.”

  “And why would I take the 93?” he asks, squinting.

  “You didn’t.” I jerk one hand free. “You were driving along Southampton when you saw the accident on the 93.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  He lets me slip a hand into his pants. He’s already semi-hard.

  “Yeah,” I say, stroking him. “And, being the brave man you are, you stopped to help those poor people trapped inside their vehicles.”

  “Damn right, I did.”

  He kisses me with a hint of heat on his breath.

  “Then,” I say, gasping, “a car caught fire!”

  “It did?!”

  I hug his waist with my knees, drawing him closer to align my slit with his cock. “And you—” He kisses me again, hard. “Being the—” I feel his tip sliding into me. “Big, strong man—”

  “Anna,” he says, our lips entwined.

  “Yeah?”

  “Shut up, please.”

  I laugh and wrap my arms around him as he thrusts deep. He bucks his hips, grinding into me. I brace myself on the counter, pushing up to meet his moving body and feeling the edge of pleasure take hold of me.

  “Just like that,” I whisper in his ear to turn him on. “Fuck me just like that…”

  He grunts and I know it’s working.

  “You feel so good,” I say. “Don’t stop.”