Bleed Blue 69: Twenty-Five Authors…One Sexy Police Station

by Anthology

  There was something off about his answer, but I pushed those thoughts aside. “I can’t imagine that’s easy in this city. Is your job all that brought you in tonight?”

  His eyes narrowed slightly for a moment before returning to normal. “No.” He took another sip of his drink. “Hiding from the happy family Christmas.”

  I gave the bar a quick wipe down. “I get that one. I left when I graduated high school and I’ve been in New York ever since. Never looked back.” What the hell was I doing? Normally, I listened to everyone else’s stories, not told my own. Something about him called to me and it was more than just the way he looked. For some reason, I wanted him to open up to me.

  “My family’s not like that. They can be a little overbearing, but that’s about it. I’m just not in the mood to put on fake smile the whole day. I figured nobody would care how happy I am on Christmas if I was at a bar.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. You came to the right place. I’ll keep ‘em coming.” I nodded at the bottle and passed another one over.

  “Excuse me,” a female voice called out from the end of the bar.

  Once I stepped away, I noticed that the band had started up again. Apparently, I missed them getting back on stage. “Excuse me. I’ll be back in a second.”

  He nodded and picked up the new bottle I left before moving away. I got the girl her drink and noticed her staring at my mystery man. She was tiny. Dark, wavy hair reached partway down her back. She gave me a smile and a wink as she stepped away and right in his direction.

  “Hey, handsome.” Her voice came out sultry and sexy.

  I took the next order, but didn’t bother to hide that I kept my eye on him and the conversation. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, not bothering to pay more than a second attention to her or the question.

  “Hi,” he said, a slight note of annoyance in his voice.

  “You look lonely over here all by yourself. Maybe I could keep you company.”

  “Nope, I’m good.”

  Her mouth dropped open for a moment before she regained her composure and sneered at him. “Screw you.” She stormed off back to one of the tables to the left of the stage. I couldn’t believe his reaction. He hadn’t been anything but friendly to me. My curiosity piqued.

  Ty stepped behind the bar, his dark hair messy. “Mel, you all good?”

  “Yeah, it’s a little busier than I expected. Chris is working tonight, right?” I glanced over at Mr. Construction. His bottle was still half full while he played with his phone.

  “Yep.” He glanced down at his watch. “He’s due in about an hour.”

  “Good.”

  He chuckled. “Since when do you have plans on Christmas? I’ve known you for five years and you always volunteer to work on Christmas.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Only my normal plans. Me, Jose Cuervo, and a bad ’80s movie.”

  Ty shook his head, laughing. “At least you have tomorrow off.”

  “Exactly why I take off the day after.”

  After Ty moved around the front of the bar, I turned to check on the patrons and the first thing I saw was his phone lying on the bar, his eyes trained on me. A bit self-conscious of what he’d overheard, I walked over.

  “Doing okay?”

  It didn’t make sense why that would make me feel insecure, but it did. Even though it had been my own ritual since I’d arrived, suddenly spending Christmas night alone sounded really sad.

  “What’s Mel short for?”

  Heat rushed to my face. Apparently he’d listened to the whole conversation.

  “Melanie,” I muttered, pulling the towel from my back pocket and wiping down the bar.

  “I like it. I’m Jackson.”

  The soft tone of his voice made me glance up from the menial task to find him smiling at me. It was hard not to smile back and I felt the corner of my mouth lift.

  “Nice to meet you, Jackson.”

  A quick glance around told me that everyone was good, so I stayed put, hoping to learn more about the mysterious Jackson.

  Jackson

  The light pink tint still graced her cheeks, except I couldn’t figure out what she was suddenly embarrassed about. My phone lit up. Enough was enough. I swiped the screen and turned off the notifications. My mom texted me every hour since last night when I’d called and told her I wasn’t coming for Christmas. For the briefest of moments I thought about lying to her and saying I had to work, but I just couldn’t do it. The woman had been my rock and biggest supporter when I decided to join the NYPD. I wouldn’t take that for granted by lying. I also knew I’d be shit company. The last assignment was a bitch and apparently I was looking at another one almost immediately.

  Tomorrow or the next day I’d stop over, when I had my shit together and wouldn’t be a total asshole to my family. Hence my shitty treatment of the chick from earlier. I felt bad, but not enough to apologize. That would only give her the impression I wanted company. And at the moment, the redhead behind the bar intrigued me. Her light brown eyes, holding small flecks of gold, were so expressive you could read every emotion in them.

  “Can I get a glass of water?” I wasn’t interested in getting plastered. Grabbing a few beers at the bar made my apartment seem a little bit less lonely.

  “Sure.” She filled the glass and set it in front of me.

  I placed the empty bottle down and picked up the glass. “Since neither of us seems to want to talk about family, why don’t you tell me something else about yourself?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure there’s much to tell. I spend most of my nights here.”

  “Nothing for fun besides work?”

  “I play guitar for one of the bands that comes in every once in a while, but only when they’re here and I can get my shift covered.”

  I smiled. “Guitar, huh?”

  She leaned over the bar, the V-neck pulling down to reveal the ample curve of her breasts, her face only inches from mine. “What’s wrong with the guitar?”

  I laughed for the first time in days. “Nothing. I guess I just saw you as more of the drum type.”

  “Oh no, not enough coordination.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “But I’ve watched you mix drinks all night. Your movements are fluid and graceful.”

  “I don’t have to do a thousand different things at once. What about you? What do you do for fun?”

  Wasn’t that the golden question. I wasn’t sure I knew how to have fun anymore. So long undercover and you forget what it’s like to be you instead of playing the part of someone else. For some reason, I felt more like myself talking to her than I had in a long time. Usually it took me a few days, sometimes even weeks after an assignment to get that feeling back. And there I was talking to Melanie for less than an hour and everything fell into place. This woman was good for my soul. I knew my new stop from now on when I got off.

  “Not much. Work doesn’t leave me a lot of time to do things.”

  “That sucks. That’s my favorite part of working here. I still get to have a life when I want one.”

  Silence fell over us for a moment, when someone called to get her attention.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  While she was gone, another woman stepped up beside me. This one taller than the first. I didn’t turn my head or give her any indication that I was interested. Didn’t stop her from sliding her hand up my bicep and around my shoulders.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, noticing Melanie’s narrowed eyes fixated on the woman’s hand. Suddenly, I wanted it off me as soon as possible.

  “Well, I thought you might like to dance.”

  “Well, you thought wrong. What I’d really like is to be left alone.” That quickly, I’d stepped back into the drug dealer persona, almost as soon as Melanie walked away. A habit I was going to have to break. That or I was more in a mood to be an asshole than I thought.

  I noticed Melanie watching me out of the corner of her eye the entire time she was helping other
customers. What she didn’t realize was I watched her too. A few minutes later, the people at the bar were taken care of, and she came back to stand in front of me.

  “Okay, where did we leave off?”

  I smirked. “You having fun when you’re not working.”

  She shook her head, laughter lighting up her eyes. “No, we need to figure out what you do for fun. Watch sports?”

  “Yes.” I let the answer hang in the air.

  She waved her hand in a come on gesture. “What sports?”

  “Football, baseball, and hockey.”

  She narrowed her eyes and took a small step backward. “Yankees or Mets?”

  “Mets.”

  “Giants or Jets.”

  “Jets.”

  Her cute little nose winkled. “Well, I guess not everyone can be perfect.”

  Deep belly laughter rumbled from my lips. “Oh, and you are?” This woman was a breath of fresh air.

  “I am.”

  Another man stepped behind the bar, putting his stuff underneath. Melanie gave a quick glance over her shoulder. “Hey, Chris. Thanks for coming in.”

  “No problem. You know me. Anything to help you guys out during the holidays.” He winked and turned to help someone who’d just stepped up to the bar. I narrowed my eyes. Melanie must have seen it.

  “Chris moonlights here on the holidays when it’s slow and most of the staff wants off. He works in an office somewhere downtown.”

  “At least you have some help now.”

  She smiled, and we picked up the conversation where we’d left off, comparing our likes and dislikes. Unbelievably, we had a lot in common and it was simple stuff too, like our favorite food or band. I can’t say that I’d ever connected with someone so quickly. The nice thing about it all was that Melanie had an uncanny ability to make me forget all of the stress that had brought me to the bar in the first place. Eventually the crowd picked up and Melanie was forced to go take orders from waiting customers.

  I glanced at my watch and realized I’d been there for four hours already. Time seemed to pass in an instant talking to Melanie. I decided to take a quick bathroom break while she waited on customers. Shoving my phone in my pocket, I stood from the stool and took the hall toward the bathroom. I wanted to be back when she was done. I finished up in the bathroom and stopped to answer my mom’s call before heading back out. When I reached my seat I noticed two guys at the bar, but Melanie was nowhere in sight.

  I leaned over the counter and asked the guy from earlier where she’d gone.

  He shrugged. “Probably home. Her shift was over an hour ago.”

  Sighing, I threw a couple extra bucks down for a tip and walked toward the door. By now, the Christmas festivities would be over and I could spend the night drinking at my own place. After all, the appeal of staying at the bar had been Melanie. With her gone, I didn’t have another reason to stay.

  Melanie

  My shift had been over for almost an hour when the place suddenly had a surge of customers, and with the front bar closed, I knew Chris and Ty would need some help if they were ever going to deal with everyone. I’d excused myself from Jackson and gone to work. It took a bit to handle all of the orders, but the three of us busted our asses until everyone had their drinks.

  When I glanced back over at Jackson’s seat, I noticed it was empty. Disappointment flooded me. In the back of my mind I knew it was only another conversation with a customer, except this time it felt different. With no other reason to stay and my bottle of Jose Cuervo calling my name, I said ‘night to the guys and grabbed my stuff to leave.

  The moment I stepped outside the door, I remembered one of the things I hated about living in New York City: the winter. It had only gotten colder since I’d arrived to work that morning. I pulled my coat tighter around me. My feet carried me even faster in the direction of the subway, determined to get out of the cold as fast as possible.

  About halfway across the parking lot, a gloved hand wrapped around my waist, another covering my mouth. I tried screaming, but the sound was muffled by fabric. Two more men stepped into my line of vision. One of them I recognized from the bar when I was trying to help Ty and Chris catch up. I struggled against the guy’s hold, but his grip was too tight.

  If I had just left on time, I wouldn’t be in this situation.

  The guy from the bar stepped forward and ran a finger down my face and neck, yanking my coat open, and continued down into the V of my shirt. I whimpered at his touch, tears pooling in my eyes and tracing down my face. I continued to buck against his hold.

  “Merry Christmas to us, Lucas. Looks like we got ourselves a fighter,” bar guy sneered.

  Lucas stepped forward, his hand reaching down to my knee and running his hand up beneath my skirt. I tried to clench my knees together to stop him. “Fuck, she’s perfect. A fighter and easy access.”

  “Let’s get her to the back of my truck where we won’t be seen,” the guy holding me said.

  At that comment I fought even harder in his grip to get away, but that didn’t stop them from practically dragging my across the lot to a truck sitting in darkness. No light illuminated it. He was right. No one would ever see us back there. The door to the bar was so close. But I was trapped. As we passed the door, it swung open and a slightly familiar light head of hair stood under the light. Jackson’s eyes were glued to his phone. He had no idea what was happening only a few yards away. This was my only chance. I bucked so hard in the guy’s grip, one of the other ones shouted, “Get her feet.”

  Jackson’s head snapped up, scanning the lot until his eyes landed on us.

  “Go,” one of them yelled. They picked up pace toward the truck.

  A brief glance and I saw Jackson running in our direction. He was faster than the three guys trying to carry me.

  “Fuck, leave her here,” the guy at my back said, breathing heavy from exertion.

  Suddenly, I was no longer being held in the air and I slammed down hard into the asphalt. Pain reverberated through me. Jackson spared me a brief glance before running past. He grabbed the shoulders of the guy reaching for the driver’s door, throwing him backward. The guy landed with a thud. The other two guys came around the truck, the first one taking a swing at Jackson, which he ducked out of the way of, all before the driver got up. He threw a punch at him, sending him to the ground, and slammed his boot into the third guy in some back kick that would impress Jet Li. The guy went careening backward, his head smashing into the side of the truck. He slumped to the ground. By then, the driver was on his feet, running at Jackson, who sidestepped him, grabbing his arm and yanking it up behind his back. They both dropped down, Jackson’s knee digging into the back of the driver and wrenching his arm up his back.

  Who is this guy?

  The one he punched in the face, who I could now see was the one they called Lucas, staggered to his feet. He reached for Jackson, who wasted no time throwing his free elbow to the side into Lucas’s nose. He screamed and blood poured from it like they’d turned on the faucet. Jackson took the second to reach behind him and pull a gun from a holster at his back.

  He adjusted his position a bit, so all three men were in his sight. “NYPD. Don’t move,” he yelled, pointing the gun in the direction of Lucas. The other guy was clearly out cold and he had a firm grip on the one below him.

  “Melanie, are you okay?” Jackson asked, never taking his eyes off the men below him.

  “I think so,” I said, my voice cracking. “Just a couple of scrapes.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute, but I need you to get your phone and call nine-one-one. Tell them Sergeant Jackson Carter needs backup at this address.”

  I pushed myself up from the ground and searched for my bag. I’d dropped it about twenty feet back in the struggle. I did what he said and in no time, lights and sirens were headed in our direction. The cop cars pulled into the lot, the noise finally rousing the patrons from inside the bar. The second officers had the men in handcuffs, Jacks
on came over and gently took me into his arms. At first my whole body went rigid, remembering the way they’d touched me. That didn’t stop him, though, as he continued to stroke his hand up and down my back. My muscles relaxed under his ministrations and I leaned into his embrace.

  Eventually an ambulance arrived to check me over. With only a few cuts and bruises, I declined a visit to the hospital and let them bandage everything there while the cops who’d cuffed and placed the men into the back of the waiting police car questioned us. He called the one guy Mike and shook his hand when he finished with his questions.

  “I’ll be in touch if we have any other questions.” His eyes were warm, sympathetic.

  The medics finished bandaging my arm and all I wanted to do was go home and lie down on my couch, drink my bottle of tequila, and wash the whole night away. I stood from the ambulance and darted a glance toward the entrance to the subway. The thought of walking over there made my legs shake. A strong arm wrapped around my waist. I bristled, but settled the moment Jackson’s musky scent with a hint of cinnamon filled my nose. Once again, I felt safe with him there.

  Chris and Ty had already checked on me, and I promised them I was fine. The cops were gone, and the medics were packing up to leave. All there was left to do was leave, yet I was partially terrified to do it.

  “Melanie, would it be okay if I walked you home?”

  My eyes darted from the subway entrance up to him. That was when I noticed we were the only two people left in the lot.

  I shook my head. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be okay.”

  He reached out and with his finger tipped my chin up to meet his gaze. There was only a second before warm lips touched mine. A small part of my brain shouted at me that I should be backing away. That I’d almost been assaulted tonight. Kissing should not be on the agenda. This was different, though. It was Jackson. And everything about Jackson made me feel safe and desired.

  The kiss was soft and sweet for only a few moments. My hands slid up his chest and into his hair. That was when things got out of control. He groaned and sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. Wanting more, I parted my lips and let his tongue slip inside. Our tongues danced and it still wasn’t enough. The kiss continued until breathing became necessary and Jackson broke away.