Ask Me If I Care

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Ask Me If I Care Page 4

by Vale, Lani Lynn


  “Tampons,” I answered.

  “Okay,” he sing-songed. “There are about eighty different kinds. Will you be playing sports while wearing one?”

  I squinted. “No. I’m going to be going on a date.”

  “Gotcha.” He paused. “How about those ones that are small and can fit into small places? Like between your boobs.”

  “Did you just call my boobs small?” I snorted. “That was unoriginal.”

  “No,” he countered. “I was calling the tampons small.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Find the ones that say ‘Pearl’ on them. Those are the ones I want.”

  “Found them.” He paused. “What’s your flow level?”

  I groaned.

  “I don’t know. Just get the variety box.”

  I really didn’t want to be talking with my father about tampons.

  “Are we talking super-duper, I’m going to need three of these at once flow? Like a raging river with rapids?” he asked. “Or are we talking about just the smallest of smalls? Ones for the tiny little creek beds in the middle of a drought. The ones that have just the smallest amounts of water flowing through them?” He paused. “Because there are two variety boxes. One with light and medium, and the other box with heavy and extra super heavy.”

  There was chuckling on the other end of the line that didn’t sound like my father.

  “Is there someone there with you?” I asked, belly tightening.

  “Umm,” Dad said. “Just someone from work.”

  I closed my eyes.

  Just someone from work.

  Goddammit.

  “Dad, if I’d known you weren’t by yourself, I wouldn’t have asked you to do this,” I growled.

  “My cruiser’s in the shop,” Dad said. “I didn’t have a choice.” He hesitated. “Big box or small box?”

  I gritted my teeth.

  And, since it was my dad, and I didn’t feel guilty for making him pay extra for the big box, and I could use them next month and the month after that, I said, “Big box.”

  “I’ll be there in fifteen. Just have to check out.”

  I hung up without saying thank you, mostly because Lock’s demon spawn decided to projectile vomit everywhere, thankfully not soaking my clothes when he did.

  Almost fifteen minutes later, my dad did indeed walk through the door.

  Only, he wasn’t alone.

  Hayes followed behind him, a grin kicking up the corner of his mouth as he pushed through behind my dad.

  Mortification rolled through me, and I had the sudden urge to scream at my dad like a lunatic.

  Really? Out of everyone that could’ve given him the ride, he had to get one from Hayes?

  Hayes, the man that I couldn’t stop thinking about?

  Hayes, the man who was now hanging up in my office, and had been for the last three months?

  The day that I’d gotten the calendar, I’d flipped right to Hayes, Mr. April, and hadn’t changed it since.

  I felt my face flame as his eyes met mine, and I knew that he’d been the man chuckling on the other end of the line.

  “Dad,” I grumbled.

  My father tossed the box at me, not even having the decency of putting it in a fucking bag.

  I caught it.

  With my freakin’ chin.

  Okay, so I wasn’t much of a sports player.

  I really, really sucked at life.

  I tripped on air. Sometimes I fell off of stable surfaces.

  Hell, if I managed to stay upright, it was a goddamn miracle.

  So, it wasn’t a far stretch that I sucked at catching stuff.

  At least I didn’t drop it.

  “Owww,” I whined, pressing the palm of my hand against my chin. “You could’ve at least waited until I was ready!”

  My dad rolled his eyes.

  “If I waited until you were ready, I’d be dead,” he pointed out.

  He did have a point.

  Tucking the box underneath my arms, I walked out of the room.

  “Make sure you keep an eye on Satan. He just puked all over mom’s couch. I haven’t cleaned it up yet,” I called out over my shoulder.

  “Great,” Dad said.

  My eyes caught Hayes’ and I swallowed hard, turning back around just in time to stop myself from running into a door jamb.

  “Goddammit,” I muttered, putting my hand out to help guide me through the doorway.

  Chuckles followed me, and I didn’t have to turn around to know that they belonged to Hayes.

  Gritting my teeth, I made my way into the bathroom.

  Hopefully, when I got out, Hayes would be gone.

  All thoughts of Hayes fled when I saw the stain on my underwear.

  My makeshift pad hadn’t done so hot, and now my underwear were stained.

  Goddammit, I’d even worn my nice ones!

  This date was already shaping up to be hideous.

  Only I would get ready for a date, get puked on, start my period, and ruin my underwear. All before the date.

  Hell, there was no denying it now.

  The date was going to suck balls.

  I stripped out of my jeans, took care of business with the super plus tampon, then cleaned up as best as I could before wrapping a towel around my bottom half and heading for my old bedroom.

  I was happy to see that nobody was in my line of sight.

  I was unhappy to see that my old bedroom had been taken over by my dad’s gun room.

  Luckily, my dresser was still in there.

  Even more lucky, I still had clothes in said dresser.

  Dropping the towel, I started to search through the panties in the top drawer, trying to find a pair that would fit.

  In the end, I chose the ones that were also the stupidest.

  The ones that my best friend had bought me as a gag gift the day that I turned eighteen.

  They read, ‘With an ass like this, who needs big tits.’

  I was literally about to slip them up over my ass when the door opened, and my dad walked in.

  I knew it was my dad because of the way he was talking on his phone to my mother.

  “I already said that I got her the tampons. Jesus Christ, Memphis,” Dad said.

  My father had seen me in my underwear before, so I wasn’t hurried as I picked the towel up off the floor, wrapped it around my lower half, and turned around.

  Except, Dad wasn’t alone.

  Hayes was with him.

  Hayes who was staring at me as if seeing me in my underwear was an everyday occurrence.

  I squeaked and covered myself with the towel again.

  “Dad!” I cried out. “Can’t you knock!”

  Dad, who was pulled away from his conversation with my mother, frowned.

  “Why are you in my gun room?” he asked.

  I threw up one arm.

  “Do you want to know why?” I paused. “Though, just sayin’, this was my room way before it was anything of yours. But, let’s just say that it is your gun room now. Which it isn’t. This is still my room. It has pink walls and a Justin Bieber poster for God’s sake. But, also, it has my underwear. My underwear that I needed since I bled through my old ones.”

  Dad didn’t say a word, and neither did Hayes.

  My brother, who was obviously here now, laughed his ass off as he came up with his son in his arms staring at me like the freak show that I was.

  “Oh, this is great.” He paused. “But you might want to hurry. You only have about five minutes to make it to your date… assuming you didn’t ruin your pants, too?”

  I narrowed my eyes at my brother, studiously ignored looking at Hayes, and shoulder-checked my dad since he was in my way.

  There was a chuckle that I knew came from the person that I wasn’t acknowledging, but I didn’t turn around to check and make sure because Lock was right.

  I was going to be late if I didn’t hurry.
<
br />   Chapter 2

  Guess who got a lot done today? Not me. But probably someone.

  -Hayes’ secret thoughts

  Hayes

  One hour earlier

  “Wanted some information on the Highway to Haughton Killer,” I said. “Ashe started talking to me about it one afternoon during a SWAT training day, and I’ve kind of become addicted.” I paused. “Luke sent me your way because you might know more people than he does when it comes to the police department. Since I’m not allowed to go through official personnel files.”

  Downy nodded his head. “Sounds good. Give me a ride home and I’ll see what I can scrounge up.”

  I looked at my watch, seeing that I had at least two hours before my date, and agreed.

  “I need to run by the store, though,” Downy said. “That okay?”

  I nodded. “It’s not like it’s my gas.”

  Downy snorted and guided me to the corner grocery store. The one that I never went in to because there was a certain brunette that worked the front counter that I’d slept with one of the first weeks I’d been in Kilgore. Now she chose to use every fuckin’ chance when she saw me to propose another date when that was most certainly not what I wanted from her.

  Knowing I couldn’t say no, I drove to the store and was walking inside with him when he got a phone call.

  “What?” Downy asked. “No way.”

  There was a long pause and then he said, “Why can’t she just leave to go get her own tampons?”

  My mouth twitched as a smile threatened to break free.

  “Fine.” He sighed. “I’ll give her a call and I’ll figure out what she wants. Love you, baby.”

  I studiously looked away as he marched through the store as if he now had a purpose.

  “Where are the tampons in this place?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  Not only wasn’t I familiar with tampons, but I also wasn’t familiar with where they would be at in a store at all.

  So I gestured to a woman that was stocking shelves.

  “Ask her,” I suggested.

  He did, and we found ourselves in a dark, damp corner of the store.

  “It’s like they’re trying to hide this aisle from existence,” I muttered, not liking how isolated it was from the rest of the store.

  “Agreed,” Downy muttered as he pulled out his phone.

  Then I was entertained for the next five minutes as he talked to his daughter about what tampons she needed.

  I couldn’t stop myself from chuckling.

  And when we arrived at Downy’s house ten minutes later, it wasn’t amusement that I read on Ares’ face.

  Her mouth practically fell open when she saw that it was me, and I had to admit that I really quite liked the expression.

  And when her dad threw her the box and it hit her in the face? I almost lost it right then and there.

  I did lose it when she nearly ran into the wall as she tried to look at me over her shoulder as she walked away.

  “You’ll have to excuse her. She can barely walk without tripping over something,” Downy said as he gestured to the kitchen. “Let me put this beer in the fridge. What did you want to ask me about?”

  I outlined what it was that I was looking for.

  “The Highway to Haughton Killer,” I said. “There have been approximately ten female bodies, all within the age bracket of fourteen to seventeen, found drained of their blood and dumped between the mile markers delineating the city of Haughton on Interstate Twenty over the last eight years.”

  Downy’s brows rose. “Okay. So what do you need from me?”

  “My dad and I have worked on it for a couple of months now. And my dad and I believe that the person responsible for this is a cop.” I paused and held up my hands before he could freak out. “Or, at least, someone highly intelligent that’s been through enough police training to know what he should and shouldn’t be doing when it comes to murder.”

  “A serial killer that could be a cop.” Downy’s lips thinned. “What makes you think it’s a cop?”

  I leaned my hips against the bar as he opened up one of the beers. When he held one out to me, I shook my head. “No, thank you,” I said. “And to answer your question, I’m not going to pretend to know what all the psychology stuff means. That’s not my thing. But from what I do know, there are certain nuances that were followed that makes us believe that he’s well versed in police procedure.”

  Downy nodded.

  “Why do you want to know about our particular police department?” he asked.

  “Not just yours,” I explained. “I’m looking at all current and past police department personnel. Crime scene techs and police officers alike. From about thirty stations. Men in their late thirties all the way to their early fifties. My father says that it’s likely to be someone retired.”

  “Retired,” he said. “Why?”

  I made a face.

  “There’s an explanation,” I said. “One that I’m not sure that I quite understand, to be honest.”

  Downy nodded.

  “He worked with a criminal profiler friend of his to come up with the list,” I continued.

  Downy flashed me a grin.

  “Thirty to fifty. Retired.” Downy paused. “What else?”

  We continued to talk about who and why.

  “I have a list of retired officers,” he said. “And it’s a really stupid reason. Pretty much my wife adds them to a list as they retire. As a reminder of the fact that I could be retiring, too.”

  My lips twitched.

  “Almost all of them are older, though,” he continued as he jerked his chin in the direction of the hallway. “It’s in my gun room stuck to my safe. Come on.”

  Just as I was following him down the hallway, the front door opened and Lock, Downy’s son, walked in.

  He took one look at the mess of the living room and his brows rose.

  “Apparently your kid was an asshole.” Downy reversed his walk and deposited the baby into Lock’s arm. Then went on to point at the couch. “Clean that up.”

  Lock started to chuckle, but went to the kitchen and grabbed a roll of paper towels.

  “Where’s Ares?” Lock asked.

  Downy then explained the last couple of hours to his son, causing Lock to laugh out loud.

  “All right,” he said, his eyes coming to me for a few seconds. “How’s it going, Hayes?”

  I gave him a chin lift.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  His grin appeared, reminding me of the older man that was now back at my side.

  They were definitely family.

  Though, the only resemblance that Ares had to them was the red hair.

  Likely she took after Downy’s wife.

  “Not a whole lot.” He paused. “What are y’all doing?”

  Downy explained, then left him to clean up while he took me to this list he had in his office.

  “Though, just sayin’, but all of these are older except a few,” Downy said just as his phone rang.

  He gestured for me to keep following, then spoke to his wife.

  He pushed through the door to a room at the end of the hall, but his eyes were downcast as he spoke.

  Mine, however, weren’t.

  Which was why I got a very good look at Ares in her underwear before her father became aware of a problem.

  Her underwear were cute.

  Her ass was even cuter.

  I was so entranced with the way those black boy short underwear hugged her ass that I didn’t pay attention to the words on them until she was turning around.

  Her eyes took one look at me and she practically froze.

  I grinned and barely smothered a laugh when she screeched in outrage, yanking the towel up to cover herself almost fully.

  It took everything I had to force my eyes down.

  Ares immediately started ranting at her father, bu
t my mind sort of blanked.

  My eyes were caught on a sliver of her skin that peaked out between her shirt and the towel that she was wearing.

  Even when her brother came into the room and started to rib her, I still didn’t quite comprehend the conversation surrounding me.

  Because she’d shifted in aggravation and her towel had slipped even farther.

  It was Downy’s, “I thought you had a date?” that had Ares glancing at her watch and cursing.

  “I do!”

  Except, Ares hadn’t been the person that Downy was talking to. It’d been me.

  I glanced at her father who was staring at me in question.

  “I do,” I confirmed.

  Which I was really wishing that I hadn’t agreed to.

  Son of a bitch.

  Going on a date was the last thing that I wanted to do.

  “Let me give you those names,” Downy said as Ares rushed past us.

  Her sweet scent had my cock hardening as she brushed past me, and I had to grit my teeth to keep myself from reaching out to touch her.

  After getting the list from him, I was reluctant to leave, wanting to catch Ares as she left.

  However, I still had to run home and change out of my SWAT uniform.

  I wasn’t sure that my date would appreciate me coming to meet her with someone’s blood staining my pants leg where I’d accidentally kneed a suspect in the face when he’d tried to pull my gun out of my holster.

  “Thanks for your help,” I said as I shoved my phone back into my pocket as I finished taking a photo of the list. “Why the list, though? I mean, does your wife think that you having a list of names will help you make the decision to leave?”

  Downy shrugged. “I think she just wants it to be there as a reminder. That people are ‘making it out.’”

  I nodded once and offered him my hand.

  “I do have to go,” I said. “I appreciate it.”

  Downy shook my hand and grinned. “I don’t want any of these men to be who you’re looking for. All of them were and are good men.”

  That was the thing about serial killers. People had no clue of their true natures.

  Chapter 3

  I see no reason to act my age.

  -Coffee Cup

  Hayes

  Out of all the restaurants, and all the people that could’ve been there, why did she have to show up at the table across the aisle at the place that I was eating with my date?

 

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