by Melissa Huie
“I guess you got my message?” I asked tentatively when he got close. I could smell his cologne and it took all I had not to leap into his arms. I wanted to ask him where he had been, if he was okay, if he missed me. But it wasn’t the right time.
“Yeah, I did. I’m sorry that I didn’t call you back. Are you ready to go?” he asked quietly, taking my hand. His touch sent my heart reeling. He led me down to the truck and opened the door for me. He climbed into the driver’s seat, leaned over to me, and gently kissed my lips. I let my eyes close briefly and sighed. I’d missed that. I’d missed him.
The drive was quiet. There were so many questions running through my head, but I waited. I didn’t want to get him anymore upset than he already was. We drove the short distance to the church and arrived with ten minutes to spare. Rachel, Marie, and Adrian were waiting outside, greeting their guests. Marie greeted Shane with open arms.
“Oh, Shane. I am so sorry. Please forgive me. I know it’s not your fault,” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. Shane squeezed her back, his eyes closing in grief. He said something softly to her, causing her to nod. I was curious as to what he said. I only heard the words “Doing what I had to do.” What did he mean by that?
I didn’t have time to ask, as Marie gestured us into the church. We sat in the second row behind Eric’s family. The whole town had turned out to pay their respects. The service was beautiful, with the traditional hymns and verses. Shane was stoic, silent throughout the service, emotion barely registering on his face. When it came time for the pallbearers to come forward, Shane stood with our friends Ryan, Ben, and Adrian, men who were practically brothers at the funeral for one of their own. Bob Dylan’s, “Forever Young,” normally out of place in a church, filled the air as they carried Eric’s casket down the aisle. Eric was laid to rest underneath a large oak tree next to a soccer field. Memories of him playing soccer with the boys caused me to choke back a sob.
After the service, Eric’s family was hosting a reception at their home, and I asked Shane if we were going to attend.
“No. I need to get back to the house,” he muttered as he led me away. He seemed to be in a hurry because we left the cemetery in a rush. Something else was going on. Something more than his best friend dying and it was time I knew.
* * *
I turned to him and said, “I know you’re going through a lot, Shane. Please. Please talk to me. Maybe I can help. If anything, it will feel good to get it off your chest.”
Ignoring me, Shane turned the radio up. Heavy metal music filled the cabin of the truck. Fine, he didn’t want to talk. We would have to talk at some point soon. We would have to deal with this together.
We arrived back at the house and he charged inside. I followed him up to the bedroom, where he started changing his clothes. Another duffel bag was sitting on the bed, opened.
“You’re leaving again? Why? What the hell is going on Shane?” I demanded. I was flabbergasted that he would leave so quickly. I understood that he needed to come to grips with Eric’s death, but I needed him at home.
“I can’t stay here, Megan. I can’t do this anymore,” he muttered, throwing balls of socks and underwear into the bag.
“What do you mean ‘you can’t do this anymore?’ Do what exactly? Talk to me, Shane!” I cried, pulling his clothes out of the bag. He grabbed my hands and threw them aside.
“People have gotten hurt because of me. It’s my fault Eric’s dead. I don’t want to be responsible for your death too,” he said angrily. Shane threw a sweatshirt and a pair of shoes into the bag. He walked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. I flung open the door. He was standing at the sink, getting his things from the medicine cabinet.
“Shane. Wait. I don’t understand. What’s going on? How is Eric’s death your fault?” I asked. I was so confused. Why did Shane think that he was responsible? Shane pushed past me and into the bedroom. I trailed behind him, impatient for answers. He dumped his shaving cream, razor, and toothbrush into his bag.
“Eric died in a deal gone bad,” Shane said impatiently. “Last year, he got into a bad situation and needed some cash. He knew I was working for Reggie then so Eric started dealing. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen. He was my partner of sorts. We would be each other’s back up. So when I got out, he took over my list. I didn’t want him to; he insisted, saying that he needed the money,” he said defeated.
“When was the last time you saw him?” I asked.
“At the bonfire. That’s what we were arguing about. I didn’t like the way he was handling Reggie. Reggie has these connections to the Cruz cartel in Jersey, Florida, and Mexico. You don’t want to cross Reggie. He doesn’t play around. He has no issues with putting a bullet in someone’s head. This whole organization is huge, with Reggie’s cousin Christian running the Jersey end. Reggie is terrifying, but Christian, he puts the fear of the devil in me. I’ve only met him once, but that’s all it took. I tried to warn Eric. I begged and pleaded with him to lay low and keep to the background. Eric didn’t listen. He started making waves about how much of the money Reggie was taking and started talking trash about the whole organization.” Shane sat on the bed and shrugged sadly. “I tried everything I could for him. I didn’t know what else to do.”
I came over to the bed and sat next to him. “This is not your fault,” I said quietly. Shane jumped off the bed.
“The hell it isn’t. Megan, I led him into this world. I got him hooked up with Reggie. And now he’s dead! How is that not my fault?” he shouted, smacking the chair behind him.
Unfazed, I stood up and got in his face. “Eric was an adult, Shane. Not a child and not stupid. I’m sure he knew the dangers of dealing. You can’t take responsibility for his behavior. I won’t let you beat yourself up over this,” I shouted back.
Shane reared up and punched a hole in the wall. “You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about, Megan. No fucking clue. He thought that I went to your brother and got the cops on his ass. Eric was my best friend and he died thinking I narc’d him out.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist. Shane tried to move away but I held on. I grabbed his face and stared him in the eyes. “It is not your fault. Eric knew that. He loved you like a brother. He knew deep down that you would never do that to him. You’re not leaving because of this. I won’t let you,” I said passionately. I could not lose him. My heart couldn’t take it. A panic was building inside my chest. Could he really leave, could he not see how I felt about him?
“I just can’t deal with the possibility of you getting hurt,” he whispered, cupping my face in his hands. How will I get hurt? I pushed the question out of my mind. All that mattered was making Shane stay.
“Shane. You just came into my life. I don’t want to lose you. Please,” I whispered, hoping he would see how much he meant to me. Shane let out a growl and kissed me with such force that I almost fell over. He caught me with one hand around my waist and the other on the back of my neck. With lips locked, we tumbled onto the bed. The only way I could convey how I felt, was to show him. I rolled him onto his back and pulled his zipper down. He shuddered and uttered a groan. I smiled. It was bittersweet. I took him in my mouth. If I couldn’t convey to him in words how strongly I felt, then maybe this would work. I would do anything to get him to stay, but I knew if he did, it would only be temporary. Shane was stubborn and if he had his mind set leaving, he was leaving.
“Come here,” he whispered roughly. His voice was thick with emotion. He sat up, threw off his shirt, and reached for me. I eagerly got out of my dress and complied, settling myself on his pelvis. I gasped with pleasure at the first thrust, riding the wave of ecstasy. It was bittersweet, knowing how much he was hurting and how much I wanted to make him feel better. Sex was one thing, but there had to be a way to get him to open up to me, to talk to me. To stay with me. Sex was just sex, until love was involved. Knowing how I felt for him made this truly exquisite.
I was complet
ely lost in the feeling of our bodies together. I almost didn’t hear Penny growl outside the bedroom. Penny never growled, and hearing it for the first time startled me. I glanced over my shoulder and stopped moving. Penny was in the hallway, her shoulders tensed and hackles raised. Shane’s body hardened beneath me.
“Was that Penny?” he asked. He tightened his grip on my arms. I nodded, meeting his stare.
“Penny? What’s up girl?” I asked. Just then, a loud crash came from downstairs. Shane picked me up and got off the bed in one swift motion. Thunderous footsteps came up the stairs and all of a sudden, our bedroom was filled with gun-pointing men wearing black flak jackets. I screamed and reached for Shane’s T-shirt, pulling it on quickly. Shane was busy pulling up his jeans and shouted, “What the fuck?” He pulled me behind his back and pressed me up against the wall, shielding me from their view. I struggled as I pulled on a pair of sweatpants. What the hell was going on? I looked up at Shane and could see the fury on his face.
“FBI! Everyone stay where you are! Shane Turner, you are under arrest for possession of narcotics, distribution, bank fraud, and extortion. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law,” a familiar voice bellowed. I know that voice. I glanced over Shane’s shoulder and was dumbfounded to see Tommy in the doorway, dressed like the other gun wielding solders in all black and a bulletproof vest.
“Tommy, what the fuck is going on?” I shouted angrily. Mad as hell, I no longer feared these idiots for breaking into my house. I tried to go over to Tommy, but one of his cronies stopped me in my tracks.
Shane pulled me back. “Stop. Don’t Megs. It’s not worth it. I’m not worth it. It’s over. I’m sorry,” Shane said quietly, his lips against my ear. His voice filled with sadness. I looked up at him, confused as hell. What was over? Why did he think he wasn’t worth it? Why was he sorry? Questions were on my lips but before I could voice them, Shane was roughly pulled away from me.
“Shane. No. Stop! Let him go!” I shouted, grabbing at the officer’s arms. Tommy rushed over and wrapped his arms around my waist, locking my arms behind my back. I struggled against him, kicking him and anyone else who got close.
“Calm the fuck down, Megs. I warned you this was going to happen. You wouldn’t listen would you,” he said low enough for only me to hear. I got a fist loose, whirled around and punched him in the jaw. Instantly my hand screamed with pain, but I didn’t care. It felt good to finally punch that asshole. Then an ominous sound of guns locking filled the room.
“It’s okay. Lower your weapons,” Tommy grumbled, rubbing his jaw. “Good thing you hit like a girl.” I looked over to see Shane in handcuffs, being pushed out the door.
“Shane. Don’t say a single word! I’ll call my uncle and we’ll meet you down there!” I shouted. I turned and grabbed a pair of socks from the drawer.
“Megs. He won’t be at the station. He’s in FBI custody. We’re taking him to our office for questioning,” Tommy said.
“Why are you doing this, Tommy? Really? What’s the point?” I demanded, shoving my feet into my sneakers.
“I told you he was bad news. You didn’t listen,” he replied rudely.
I rolled my eyes. “Get the hell out of here.” I rummaged through the clothes that were on the floor and threw on a hooded sweatshirt.
“Can’t do it, Peaches. You’re in my custody now. I need to bring you in for questioning as well. You can call your Uncle Bob on your way to the office,” he answered. Freaking jerk had a response to everything.
I could hear Penny whining underneath the bed. She was scared to death. As soon as she had seen the men, she ran and hid.
“Guard dog you ain’t,” I muttered, kneeling to see her. I gently tugged on her collar and pulled her out from underneath the bed. She whimpered and lay her head against my shoulder.
“Megs, I’m giving you the courtesy of waiting for you. But we need to get going,” Tommy said from the door.
I narrowed my eyes. “Bullshit. What courtesy? You didn’t give me any courtesy by breaking down my door. Go to hell, Tommy. And get out of my house.”
“Dammit, Megan. You don’t get it. And you know what? Now you’re going down with him.” He roughly grabbed my arm and yanked me up. He pushed me up against the wall and put my hands behind my back.
“Seriously? You’re putting me in freaking cuffs? You fucking asshole. You know I haven’t done anything wrong,” I seethed.
Tommy gave a slight chuckle. “Maybe I wanted an excuse to pat you down.”
“Touch me one more time, and I’ll break your hand,” I threatened. He snorted and pulled me out the door.
The scene outside was out of a movie. Police cars and black Suburbans were parked haphazardly on the street. Curious neighbors milled around, gossiping. Dogs held by uniformed officers were sniffing around my car. I quickly turned to Tommy.
“Look. If you are making me do this, at least let me call Mom to get Penny. She’s going to freak out,” I reasoned, hoping to God that Tommy had some compassion left in him. Tommy heard the worry in my voice and decided to be a decent guy.
“Yeah, I’ll call your mom.”
He pushed my head down and put me in the back of a black sedan, then walked away. I was finally able to catch a breath, being alone in the car. My mind raced. What the hell had Shane gotten himself into? Was this related to Eric’s death? What were all those charges about? I was so confused; I couldn’t keep my thoughts straight. The door suddenly opened and Tommy got in the front seat.
“Seriously, Tommy, why am I under arrest?” I demanded, trying to get a straight answer. Of course, he decided to be vague.
“You’re not under arrest Megan. I could have you charged with assault on a federal officer, but I’m going to be a nice guy. We just have some questions for you,” he replied vaguely.
“Questions about what exactly?” I implored. Tommy just pressed his lips together and ignored my plea for information. Fine. Whatever. I sat back in a huff, just imagining what my mother would say when she found out that I had been taken in.
* * *
We traveled in silence for twenty minutes, finally coming to a stop in front of a nondescript high-rise office building. Tommy pulled me out of the car and led me to a seventh-floor office. He finally took the cuffs off and left me alone. I winced and rubbed my wrists where they’d bitten into my skin. Well, now I know I won’t be bringing those into my bedroom any time soon. I did a mental head slap. You’re in an FBI building for questioning, Megan. Focus!
The room was as big as my bathroom at home, with dull paint, no windows, and the requisite brown table and chairs. A security camera loomed over me from a corner in the ceiling. I gave it the finger. I didn’t care how immature I looked, I was being held here for no reason other than plain spitefulness. I sat for an hour in the most uncomfortable chair. My back ached. And it never failed that as soon as I was held up somewhere—in traffic, in line, or locked in a briefing room—I always ended up needing to pee.
I pounded on the door in hopes that someone was listening. Thankfully, Tommy poked his head in. “What?”
“Tommy. I have to use the bathroom.”
“Tough. Hold it. We’re about ready to come in.”
“Honestly, Tommy, you break into my house, interrupt me and my boyfriend, scare the crap out of my dog, and drag me down here. You make me wait here for an hour and now you’re going to make me pee in my pants? Since when did you become such an asshole?” I demanded.
Tommy sighed, then opened the door wider. “Fine. I’m not going to cuff you. I’m going to walk you down, so behave yourself.” I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him. He always brings out my immature side, I thought as he led me down a narrow hallway. He pushed open the ladies’ room door and held it open for me. “Be quick. It’s your turn,” he muttered.
I walked in and quickly used the facilities. I washed my hands and face. The harsh fluorescent lights made the bags unde
r my eyes appear much darker. My hands shook. I was worried about Shane. I wanted to see him, to hold him again, to make sure everything was going to be okay. I wanted answers. From him. Not from anyone else.
I walked slowly out of the bathroom and Tommy hurried me along back to the tiny room.
“Have a seat,” Tommy said briskly with no emotion on his face. He was FBI Agent Tommy, not the man I was going to marry not so long ago.
I sat down in a chair, crossed my arms, and stared at him. Tommy sat across from me and pulled a couple of manila files from his bag.
“I’m here to ask you some questions regarding Shane Turner,” he started formally, opening up one of the files.
“I’m not answering any questions until I see him. I need to see him,” I replied quietly. Tommy ignored me.
“Tell me, what do you know about Ricardo Cruz, a.k.a Reggie?” he asked, not looking at me.
Damn it, look at me Tommy. Do not do this to me, I silently pleaded.
Tommy finally looked at me, and with a grave voice said, “Megan, he’s leaving. He’s going in front of the magistrate.” Panic filled my stomach. Shane was in trouble and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
“Did he call his lawyer?” I demanded. He couldn’t go down to the magistrate alone. That would be crazy.
“Your Uncle Bob is here.” Tommy replied slowly. “He’ll be back shortly. He just needs to be formally charged.”
I leaned back in my chair and glared at Tommy with narrow eyes. “I demand a phone call. I get one phone call, right?”
Tommy sighed with exasperation. “Megan, I’m just asking you some questions. Help me out here. Please.”
“Tommy, I’m sorry. But honestly, I don’t think I can answer any of your questions,” I replied truthfully.
“Let me bring you up to speed on your boyfriend. Shane has been arrested and will be charged with intent to distribute narcotics, possession of marijuana, and assault with a deadly weapon. Megan, these charges aren’t stemming from a year ago. We’ve been watching the drug ring he is still involved with for months now. Eric was in this ring as well. Megan, he’s been lying to you,” Tommy replied angrily. As if my disbelief was not enough, I was getting angrier by the second.