by K. S. Adkins
Charging him we both crash through the back door onto the kitchen floor. Losing all sense of myself I land punch after punch. Once he gets his bearings and starts beating me right back. I go at him with every ounce of pain and pissed off I’ve got.
He gets me good upside the temple and I stagger, using the counter to hold me up. Aiming at my kidneys, he lands shot after shot, then I strike back with my own. At this point I have no idea who’s going down first, but I hope it isn’t going to be me. Taking me to the ground from around my waist we crash into the fridge, bottles go flying, glass everywhere and we’re both rolling in it. He aims for my face, missing it, and connecting with the glass on the floor. Kicking him off I stand to charge him when she comes barreling into the room.
“Enough,” is all she says, and we both froze.
“You,” she says to Bishop. “Leave.” He nods and does as he’s told.
Coming over to me, she looks worried. When she touches my face, it in turn pisses me off. Like I’m some god damned child she has to protect from bullies. Pushing her back, I shake my head, wanting to leave the room. When she blocks me I can’t hold it back anymore; her looking at me with fucking pity does me in.
“Max, let me look—”
“Back the fuck off!” I growl at her, and she at least had the decency to look hurt. “You like this shit? You like thinking I need you to defend me? I’m a grown-ass man! Treating me like I’m a bitch in front of that asshole? You get off on this violence shit. You fucking enjoyed beating the shit out of him in front of me, and that’s fucked up. I’m a fucking man Jules! Try fucking treating me like one for once! You wonder why I didn’t come back for you? I don’t want your life! The way you live makes no sense to me. I was never man enough for you, and you liked it that way. You go where they tell you to go and you don't question it. If they say kill you kill, because our government orders it. You don't question anything. That’s why I didn’t come back for you. You’ll never leave the fucking streets behind. I can see that just by looking at you. One look at you and anyone can see it.” As soon as I say it I regret it, and I sure as fuck don’t mean it.
The expression on her face doesn’t change “I’m not trying to hide it,” she whispers. “What I do allows you to sleep safely at night; maybe you should try to remember that.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I growl at her. “I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in eight god damn years.”
“You could have, Max,” she whispers again. “My door was always open; all you had to do was walk in.”
Without taking her eyes off me she backs away, turns, and a minute later I hear the front door open and close. After ramming my fist into the wall repeatedly I leave the kitchen, look out the window to see that motherfucker opening his truck door for her. While I’m left standing there dying on the inside that piece of shit looks back at me and smiles.
Just as he backs out she looks up at the house before pulling away. She may not see me, but I see her, and I see that because of me she is fighting back tears.
“Boss!”
Snapping back to attention, I look around and see my guys staring at me. Get your head in the game Jules, I yell at myself. But I can’t focus. The more Max pulls away from me the more distracted I get. I’m losing him.
“I’m not your damn boss yet,” I snap at him.
“No but you will be if you’d fucking pay attention.”
Tuning out my own problems I tune in to what would be our first assignment as a team. I am really going to do this.
Fuck.
For the last several days I’ve managed to put him in the back of my mind. He hasn’t tried contacting me, and I have no intentions of contacting him. After all this time I didn’t think he still had the ability to break my heart, but he does. Now I know how he really feels, and knowing the truth will make it easier to leave. The fact is I’ve cried more since being back here then I have in my entire life. Meeting Macy for lunch was a nice break, but since Rafe won’t let her out of his sight, girl talk is impossible. That’s not true. Rafe loves girl talk, and he even loves giving advice, but he’s terrible at it, so for me it’s time to go. Sending Bishop a text, I ask him to pick me up in twenty so we can head back to the hotel and wrap up what we’ve got on Hank, which is a lot.
Yesterday, Bishop and I were able to get into the clubs database. (Don’t ask how we got in, either; its top secret) The records are clean, almost too clean. Don’t even get me started on the surveillance equipment setup, which was all Hank. I’m angry Max didn’t look into how his own security was being handled; this wasn’t something Hank should have been running without Max’s input. Even a rookie could see that there are two feeds connected to the main frame. One Max monitors and one Hank monitors. Looking closer at how Hank placed the cameras, I also noticed the shadows. Shadows are basically areas where cameras can’t pick up movement; shadows make illegal activity possible. Lush has seven shadows. That’s seven places where a camera will not detect motion of any kind. If you wanted to run anything or remove anything from those spots, no one would see you. This afternoon we’re going to go through everything again to see what we’re missing, because I know it’s there. Then when that’s finished we’re going to install feeds into those shadows and watch for ourselves.
After sitting here an hour it’s obvious why Macy and Rafe are together; they complement each other like a married couple should. Even after suffering such a loss they are more solid than ever. As happy as I am for her, that breaks my heart a little, too. At one time, I thought I had a love like that. But a guy like him could never love trash like me.
His father was right.
“Red?” asks Macy, breaking me of my thoughts and bringing me back to the present.
“Sorry?”
“I asked how long you’d be around this time?”
Looking over at Rafe, I see him studying me. I told him confidentially I’d be staying close, but didn’t say much more, and certainly not for how long.
“I have a few loose ends to tie up,” I tell her. “Then it’s back to DC.”
“It sucks you won’t stick around,” she says, pouting. “You know, for good.”
“If I did, I’d only be sticking around for you girls, and they’ve got planes these days, so you could always visit me too.”
“True,” she says, not wanting to drop it. “Everything okay with Max?”
My wince must have told her all she needed to know, because Rafe cuts in, saving me from making a fool of myself. “Wanted to say thank you again for what you did, you know, the favors and shit. Getting me to my wife.”
Just before I can answer, Bishop storms in interrupting us, thank god. “Boss,” he says, grinning. “Had to park six fucking blocks up and fight off a hooker, you ready?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m ready. Uh, Macy, Rafe, this is my partner, Bishop.”
“Partner?” asks Macy.
“That right?” Asks Rafe, sizing him up in return.
“Haven’t left her side since basic,” he says, starting shit with people like always. Bishop loves conflict; he especially loves it when people give him looks so he can give them back. Right now, he’s doing it to rile Rafe up in an effort to get back at Max and I don’t appreciate it at all.
“Red?” asks Macy, looking worried. “Where’s Max?”
“Who fucking cares,” says Bishop. “After the way he treated her, fuck that guy. He’s lucky I didn’t kill ̓em.”
Rafe looks seriously pissed off; Macy, too. Shit, shit, shit.
“Jules, get up.”
“Rafe, it’s not a good idea. I really need to go.”
Leaning in to speak in my ear, he keeps it brief. “He hurt you?” When I just stare, he goes on, “What’d he do?”
Taking a deep breath, I tell him what I can: the truth. “He told me how he really felt about me. When this is over I’m gone, Rafe. You’ll explain that to Macy for me after okay?”
Grinding his jaw, he pulls me away from the chatty Bi
shop and worried Macy; for me, it’s an effort not to cry. “What’d he say? Word for word.”
“I’ll never be enough, Rafe,” I whisper. “Let it go. He never loved me anyway; he married me to prove a point to his father.”
“Last time, before I pay him a visit he ain’t gonna like,” he growls. “Spill.”
“I can’t,” I tell him. “I’m sorry. I just wasn’t enough; I accept that. You’ve got my number. When you hear something, let me know. I’m over at the MGM.”
“I saw him,” he says. “I saw a man that loves his wife. I don’t buy it.”
“You don’t have to,” I tell him. “I bought it; that’s what matters.”
Breaking from Rafe, I give Macy a quick hug, then follow Bishop to the exit. As soon as we exit out back I slap him upside the head. “Knock it the fuck off, that was unnecessary.” I tell him. He grins at me and shrugs. Fucking asshole.
Rounding the corner we’re bickering like we always do when I hear two shots fired. Suddenly Bishop goes down, and then for some reason my legs go out and I go down, too.
Casing my surroundings, I don’t see anything, but it’s hard to see when my eyes are dancing. Crawling over to Bishop, I turn him over to face me, and see his face is a mask of pain. We’re sitting ducks out here. Surely Rafe heard the shots and covered Macy?
“Too exposed,” grunts Bishop in pain while trying to cover me. I try saying, “I know,” but my words are cut off when Bishop covers me with his body and takes a beating no doubt meant for me. Bishop has me pinned down so tight I can’t draw my weapon or move even an inch. Every grunt of pain he lets out he grips me tighter, keeping me safe. Moving my head several degrees, the perp locks eyes with me and he looks conflicted, which shocks me. I need to move, but can’t. At best, I am close to freeing my left arm, but it’s for nothing. When I hear yelling the perp takes off, then suddenly Bishop’s weight is removed from me and I see Max. Ignoring him, my focus is on my partner, the one who just sacrificed his life for mine. The guy who constantly uses my heart as a punching bag can take a back fucking seat and wait.
“I thought you were going to call me at six?”
“I was tied up,” I explain. “A meeting with a vendor ran late.”
“I waited Max,” she says. “But I have to go now. Can I call you when I get home?”
“Where are you going that you can’t talk to me now?”
“I promised the guys I’d meet them for burgers before we—”
“I see what’s important,” I say, cutting her off. “Go do your thing, and I’ll talk to you another time.”
Hanging up on her then pacing my office, I try calling her back, only she doesn’t answer. I try calling her for days after that, too. Two and a half weeks later I emailed her when I was half out of my mind with worry. Come to find out, that night I hung up on her? She ended up getting pneumonia and was bed ridden. My wife was so exhausted she couldn’t even answer the phone.
The last several days gave me a lot to think about. My behavior was one of them. To say I hate myself for how I acted was an understatement. I told myself if I ever got the chance to see her again I’d do things right. So far, I’ve done everything wrong. So wrong I can’t fucking find her. As always, with her I’m one step behind. Rafe had texted me and asked me to meet him and Macy for lunch. The guilt I feel for dropping the ball on keeping her safe still haunts me. The fact that they don’t hold it over my head baffles me.
Even though the last thing I want to do is face them, I knew that I needed to eventually. So when I finally find a spot to park I walk the four blocks over to Batch Brewing Company and walk in to see them both towards the back. When they spot me neither looks all that thrilled to see me.
“Hey,” I say in greeting, but not confident enough to grab a chair and join them.
Macy says hello while Rafe glares at me.
Looking around I don’t know if I should stay or leave. When Rafe stands but doesn’t offer me a chair I decide fuck it, if I’m not wanted I’m leaving. “Just had lunch with Jules,” he says, but offers nothing more. I fucking missed her again. “Met Bishop though,” he says. “Pretty sure he’s got something for your wife, but he sure as fuck ain’t got no love for you. Care to tell me why?”
“Jonas,” says Macy. “Please.”
“It’s okay, Princess,” he says. “Guy shit, Max here gets it.”
“Yeah,” I say not wanting to upset her. “I get it.”
“Figured you might,” he says. “So I asked her why she looked so upset when we mentioned your name. Wanna know what she said?”
When I stay mute he fills me in anyway. “She said, ‘He never loved me anyway, he married me to prove a point to his father.’ Now why would she say that?”
“Fuck,” I groan. “Look, this is between her and me.”
“Your wife saved my wife’s life, your wife is a sister to my wife. So when your wife hurts so does mine. So why don’t you look at me and set me straight?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It never is.”
“I love her.”
“She doesn’t think so. Also said she accepted the fact that you didn’t. Also said when this is over she’s gone, poof, outta here. Thinking she’s leaving with that partner of hers, too.”
“Dammit, Rafe,” I swear. “Where did she go?”
“Go? I ain’t her daddy, Bishop took her out the back—”
Two shots go off, ending his speech. Rafe grabs Macy and without thought I tear out the back out into the alley to see my wife crawling over to Bishop, to see Bishop cover my wife’s body with his own, and to see a man club Bishop repeatedly. Yelling for her buys me some time because the man attacking them gets spooked and runs off. Even with my hands shaking I’m able to move Bishop enough to get to her. When she’s out from underneath him she doesn’t even regard me. She immediately focuses on him, and god damn, I can see why. He’s got two bullet holes in his body. One in his chest and one is his gut, not to mention he was just beaten with a fucking crowbar.
She touches his face with infinite care. “Bishop,” she yells. “Wake up!” Looking up to me she asks me if I dialed 911, then cursing myself for not thinking to do it I fish out my phone and make the call.
Waiting for the medics I watch her take off her jacket, then her sweater, and use them both to slow the bleeding. Taking off my own sweater I hand it to her and she props his head with it. Jonas runs out without Macy, takes one look at what’s happened, and kneels next to Jules.
“Jules,” he says getting her attention. “Give it to me.”
“Two shots,” she says calmly. “One in the chest approximately four inches below the heart, one in the stomach, possible internal bleeding. Perp used a crowbar, possible head trauma, broken ribs, or spinal injuries.”
“The perp,” he says. “Describe him.”
“Later,” was all she said. Nodding, Rafe pulls out his own phone, then I hear sirens, and that’s when she focuses all her attention back onto Bishop. Standing over her I watch how careful she is with him. Yes, it makes me jealous. Yes, it hurts. But this is who she is. I should have seen this earlier. She wasn’t babying me, she was looking out for me because she cared. Like he said, I didn’t see her.
“I’m going to find who did this to you, Bishop,” she says, running her fingers through his short hair forgetting my presence. “I’m going to find him and kill him; I’ll kill all of them if I have to.”
Rafe interrupts because the medics need access to him. While he fills them in I approach her as she watches with a blank face as they prep him for the gurney. “You’re hurt,” I say reaching for her.
“It’s nothing,” she says, pushing me away.
“You’re bleeding, Blue.”
“I said,” she glares at me, “it’s nothing.”
When I reach for her again she literally smacks my arm away. “Worry about you, Maxwell. I don’t need a god damn thing from you. My name is Jules or Special Agent; save that Blue shit for you
r next piece.”
Walking away from me she stands next to the medics, then reaches her hands into his pockets and fishes out his keys. She asks the medics which hospital they’re taking him to, then she nods walking in the other direction. Standing on the corner I watch her climb into his truck, throw in drive, and lay rubber to keep up with the ambulance. Rafe does his thing while I just stand there, letting the events soak in.
What in the hell was going on?
Drying out my socks and playing rummy with one of the guys from my unit I never paid any attention to mail call. Mainly because I never got any mail. Today when my name was called I froze. Slowly walking forward I’m afraid to take the envelope. Turning it over I see Lush’s address. Oh god, it’s official, he did it. He’s divorcing me. I knew my being away was taking its toll, but never this.
Hiding in the lav, I open it with shaky fingers. Tears start falling down my face when I see it isn’t divorce papers at all. He sent me pictures. Venessa on stage, Macy dancing and him holding a piece of paper that says, “I love you, Blue,” on it. Laughing and crying I wipe it away on the back of my hand. He found me. I don’t know how he did it, but he did.
He found me and he still loves me.
Bishop breezed through surgery; both wounds missed vital organs, but requiring extensive repair. He has a long list of injuries and will need a lot of time to heal. Needless to say he isn’t leaving here for a few days, and from this point forward I work alone. His safety and the safety of my team is not worth the risk.
For now, though, my place is at his side. He’s out cold, which is good, because when he wakes up he’s going to be pissed. People like us cannot stand being useless, and that’s how he’s going to feel. This wasn’t the first time he’s saved my life but hopefully it’s the last. I’ve caused this man more injury than should be humanly possible. He says it’s because it’s his job, but I know it’s because on some level he loves me.