Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set

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Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set Page 22

by Lashell Collins


  I need her!

  The moment had me thinking thoughts and dreaming dreams that terrified me. That’s when I got up and headed to the shower, just to get a little distance from her for a few minutes. I stood beneath the water scared half to death of the things I was feeling. The things I’m still feeling.

  I need her!

  The revelation from last night won’t leave me alone. I haven’t been able to shake it all morning and I feel like I’m running from it. Yes, I needed her last night, at that moment. I needed her so much. But that was last night, and this is a new day. So why can’t I get that thought out of my head? Why is it still whispering to me?

  Concentrate on your job, Pierce! My job. Yeah, concentrate on the job. Samantha sounded so scared on the phone just now. The thought of some asshole being out there, terrorizing her, possibly following her around, wanting to harm her in some way. Makes my fucking blood boil. And I know without a doubt in my mind that once we catch this guy I will take great pleasure in beating the living shit out of him.

  “So what did her phone call say?” Conner asks me, cutting through my wayward thoughts.

  “Just that she thought she saw the guy,” I answer curtly. “I didn’t ask her for details over the phone because she sounded upset. Thought we’d do better in person. Plus, we may get lucky and someone else at the museum may have seen him.”

  He nods and is silent the rest of the short ride over to the Pryor Museum, and it suddenly dawns on me that I am going to have to walk a very thin line once we get there. I’m going to have to present a very professional face with Sam since Conner will be watching my every move. The last thing I want to do is give him cause to worry about my objectivity. I hope Sam understands and follows my lead.

  When we enter the building, I show my badge to the security guard near the door and tell him that we’re looking for Miss Samantha Colby. We are ushered through the museum and into an area marked employees only, and on to a large cafeteria-type employee lunch room. There are a few museum employees scattered at a couple of tables on one side of the room and I glance to the left and see Samantha sitting despondently at a small square table in the corner. There is an attractive African American young woman sitting with her and she appears to be offering moral support. They both look up as we walk toward them and Sam’s eyes brighten when they lock with mine. I pierce her with a serious expression, trying to convey a message as my eyes burn into hers.

  “Hello, Miss Colby,” I say intently, purposely speaking first, before she has a chance to.

  She blinks for a moment, and I can tell my message has been delivered. “Detective Pierce,” she says softly, glancing nervously at Conner.

  “This is my partner, Detective Conner,” I say as we both pull out chairs and sit at the table. I sit beside her, close enough that I could reach out and wipe her tears but, I don’t dare. This is going to be harder than I thought.

  “Hello,” she says softly, acknowledging Conner.

  “Miss Colby,” he says, all business. Then he turns to the young woman sitting with Sam and asks, “And you are?”

  “My name is Nicole Johnson,” she responds. “I work here with Samantha.”

  “Miss Johnson, would you give us a few minutes please,” Conner tells her. “But don’t go far. We’ll want to speak with you before we leave.”

  She nods and gets up to move over to another table, and I’d like to tell Conner to go ahead and question her on his own, leaving me with Samantha but, I know it would raise his suspicions since he’s already accused me of getting too involved here.

  I turn my attention to Sam and she looks so incredibly sad, I just want to take her into my arms and tell her everything’s going to be all right. Her lovely face is tear streaked and her hands fidget with a worn out tissue.

  “Miss Colby,” I begin, trying to will myself not to touch her as I take my notepad and pen out of my inner jacket pocket. “Can you tell us what happened today?” My eyes meet hers and she looks at me imploringly. As if she’s begging me to hold her. Shit. I watch helplessly as her eyes begin to swim, and big tears spill over onto her cheeks. I close my eyes, feeling my heart constrict and my jaw tighten. I am desperate to touch her, to reassure her, but I know that Conner is watching us like a hawk. I steal a glance at him and he is looking at me with a puzzled expression, no doubt reading our body language astutely. It’s what we’re trained to do, after all. Finally, I can’t take it anymore and I reach into my pocket and pull out a handkerchief. I place it into her hands, lightly giving her a covert, reassuring squeeze as I do.

  She looks up when my hand touches hers and when our eyes meet, she breaks down, burying her face in my handkerchief as she sobs. Fuck. I can feel myself lean in closer to her, but I stop myself just short of touching her and pull back. Finding it difficult to watch her cry, I look helplessly down at the table for a few seconds. When I look up at Conner, he is eyeing me with obvious suspicion. He smirks at me and gives a slight shake of his head and a disgusted roll of his eyes. Finally, he motions to Sam, raising his eyebrows at me as if to say ‘well do something, you stupid fuck,’ and I know that we’re not fooling him.

  “Fuck it,” I think to myself as I scoot my chair closer to her and place my hand on her back. “Sam?” I pull her gently to me and fold her into my arms. “It’s okay, baby,” I say softly as my hand finds its way into her hair and I kiss the top of her head. So much for being professional and keeping Conner off our tracks. I glance at him and he looks like he wants to sucker punch me right now, and I give him a look that tells him I’m well aware the magnitude of my fuck up here, but it’s too late to do anything about it now.

  I hold her for several minutes, with Conner glaring at me the whole time, and I can feel Sam’s whole body begin to relax in my arms as her tears slowly subside. When she composes herself, she pulls away and sits up and I gently wipe her tears away with my thumb as I caress her face. “Better?” I ask her softly, looking into her gorgeous eyes. She glances nervously at Conner and then back at me. “You think you can talk to us now?” I ask her softly. “Tell us what happened.”

  She nods silently and I pick up my pen with my right hand, ready to take notes, as I take hold of her hand with my left and she looks over at Conner anxiously. I look at Conner as I lightly rub the back of her hand with my thumb. “It’s all right, baby,” I say, looking her in the eye. “I’m afraid we can’t put the cat back into the bag.”

  She looks at me apologetically. “I’m sorry,” she says tearfully.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I tell her. “Conner won’t bite. Not you, anyway. He’d like to kick my ass right about now,” I add with a small smile, “but he’ll be very nice to you. I promise.” She looks over at him again and he attempts to give her a reassuring smile and a nod.

  “Tell me what happened, Sam,” I say, lightly squeezing her hand to get her attention.

  She takes a deep breath and shakes her head as if she can’t believe this is happening. Then she launches into her story about training for her new position by shadowing Miss Johnson while she gave a tour to a small group when she saw him. When she says that she could feel this creep watching her as she went about the tour, my skin begins to crawl and I know that we’re dealing with a real psycho here. And suddenly I’m afraid for Sam’s safety when I can’t be with her and I feel my jaw tighten at the thought.

  “Did you get a good look at him this time?” I ask her intently, my eyes boring into hers. She licks her lips and seems to think hard for a moment and my hope sinks.

  “I’m sorry, Josh,” she whispers.

  “Damn it, Sam!” My voice is harsher than I mean for it to be and she cowers slightly, instantly making me feel like shit. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” I say softly, squeezing her hand again and looking into her eyes. “I’m just frustrated.”

  “I know,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

  “Did you see anything other than his tattoo, Sam?”

  “I onl
y saw him as he was turning to leave,” she says. “He had a shaved head. I could tell that much.”

  “A shaved head,” I repeat. “Like completely bald? Bald like the man smoking in the beat up car outside the grocery store?” She nods and looks apologetic again. “Anything else? Did you follow him out to get a look at what he was driving?” She shakes her head slowly, and I can tell she feels bad that it didn’t occur to her to do that.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers, tearing up again. “I was just so scared.”

  “Hey,” I say softly, letting go of her hand and caressing her face. “It’s okay. You did good. I’m sorry I got upset, all right?” She nods and I look over at Conner, who is eyeing us speculatively. His eyes are narrowed and I can see the wheels spinning. I frown, wondering what’s going through his mind. “You want to go interview Miss Johnson?” I ask him, trying to get a moment alone with Sam. “Find out if she saw anything?”

  “I’ll wait for you,” he says smugly and it’s my turn to narrow my eyes at him. Is he really going to be a dick about this? I roll my eyes at him and turn back to Sam.

  “What time do you get off, baby?” I ask her, trying to ignore Conner.

  “I get off at four,” she says softly, and I nod.

  “You okay to stay here until then?” I ask her.

  She nods her head. “Yes. I want to stay,” she says. “Keep busy.”

  “Okay.” Ignoring Conner’s intrusive eyes, I lean in and kiss her forehead. Then I stand, looking down at Conner. “Shall we talk to Miss Johnson?” I ask him with an attitude.

  He’s eyeing me questioningly as he stands and we proceed to go and talk to Nicole Johnson, who actually saw very little except for Samantha’s odd behavior. Although she did see the man in question as he was walking out of the building but, like Sam, she only saw him from the back.

  We talk to the museum security about the possibility of any camera footage before we go but, there is nothing as their cameras have been malfunctioning for over a week. As we head out of the museum, we don’t even make it to the cruiser before Conner starts in on me.

  “What the fuck are you thinking, Guy?” he practically yells at me. “You swore to me that you were not getting too close to this victim! You flat lying to my face now?”

  “Back off, Conner,” I snarl at him. “I know how far over the line I’ve stepped here. I don’t need to hear it from you.”

  “Well, you obviously need to hear it from someone,” he says angrily, getting in my face, refusing to back down, and I feel myself getting pissed off as my hands fist and my blood pressure spikes. I know the last thing either of us needs is for us to get into a physical altercation in a public parking lot over something I had no business doing but, I can’t back down. I made the decision to get involved with Samantha and I don’t regret it. I am prepared to make an ass out of myself over it if need be.

  Conner is well aware of my temper and my reputation. I can’t believe he’s willing to unleash my fury over this. “Do you really want to embarrass the department by starting a fight with me in public, Conner?” My voice is just as angry as his and we are now nose to nose and eyeing each other bitterly. We’re momentarily distracted by a couple with a small child leaving the museum, and we each back away slightly as they move through the parking lot.

  “I don’t want to fight you at all, Guy,” Conner says to me, his voice still strained with frustration. “I just want to know what the hell you’re doing.” I say nothing as I continue to glare at him. “How long have you been sleeping with this girl?”

  “None of your fucking business,” I shoot back, and he rolls his eyes at me.

  “I thought you said you were seeing someone,” he continues, his tone slightly accusatory. “You actually seemed excited.” Again, I say nothing and just give him a smirk and wait for him to catch up. It doesn’t take long until I see realization come to his eyes. “Oh, you gotta be shitting me,” he mumbles. “The mystery girl you were telling me about … the one who was cooking you dinner the other night? This is why you didn’t want to tell me her name or where you met her.” He looks at me shaking his head and rolls his eyes again. “You know that you need to take yourself off of this case, right?” he asks me.

  “And you know that I’m not going to do that,” I respond and he lets out a heavy sigh.

  “You told me that your mystery girl had you questioning your commitment to ‘one-night stands only.’ How serious is this thing, Guy?”

  I don’t answer him and instead, toss him the keys to the unmarked cruiser. I move past him and slide into the passenger seat, waiting for him to follow. I don’t usually let Conner drive. I know he’s got to be shocked as hell right now. As he walks around the car and gets in, I think about the answer to his last question – how serious is this thing with Samantha? I need her! I push that whispered thought out of my head.

  I don’t want to think about the answer to Conner’s question, but he gives me no choice. Getting in behind the wheel, he asks the question again. “How serious is this thing with Samantha Colby, Guy?”

  I close my eyes and run a hand through my hair, and rest my arm on the door, still silent. He starts up the car and pulls out of the parking space. “Guy?”

  “I don’t know, Dave!” My voice is louder than I mean for it to be. Almost a yell, and I feel like I am spinning out of control. “I don’t know.”

  He looks at me, clearly surprised by my outburst, then turns back to the road. “Shit,” he mutters, shaking his head.

  “What?” I ask gruffly. He glances over at me and he’s wearing a grimace on his face and he snickers at me.

  “I knew it,” he says smugly, turning his eyes back to the road once more. “I could tell when you were talking about this mystery girl of yours. I recognized that shell shocked look on your face because I saw it in the mirror staring back at me when I met Lindy.”

  “What are you yammering about?” I ask him, annoyed.

  “You,” he says simply. “You got it bad, my friend. You are strung out on this girl and scared to death about it. You can’t think about anything else but her and you would do anything to be near her right now.”

  I stare at him in disbelief, a frown slowly crossing my face. How does he know what I’m feeling? That I’m terrified? How does he know that Sam is on my mind 24/7 or that I am desperate to be with her right now? Fuck. Is he insinuating that I’m falling in love with this girl? Well, aren’t you, Pierce? You need her! Bullshit! This is not happening to me; I don’t fall in love … do I? Oh, how the hell should I know? I’ve never given myself the chance to try before. Fuck! I hate feeling so out of control. Anxiously, I run my hand through my hair again and look out the window at the passing scenery. Then I hear Conner’s voice, nagging me again.

  “What? You’re not going to argue with me? Tell me that I’m full of shit?” I try to ignore him and say nothing but, he keeps it up. “That I don’t know what that hell I’m talking about?”

  “Fuck off, Conner,” I say with a sigh. “Just leave it alone.”

  “I would love to leave it alone, Guy,” he says, looking at me angrily. “But I can’t because it involves our job. You remember our job?”

  “Yeah, I remember the job, Dave,” I answer him bitterly. “God, don’t you think I tried to just do my job and ignore what I was feeling?”

  “And what are you feeling, Guy?” he pushes.

  “I don’t know,” I shout angrily at him. Then I sigh, running both my hands through my hair. “Look Dave,” I say, trying to keep my voice as even as I can, “you know me. You know that I don’t do this shit. All I know is that I care about this girl, all right? Now leave me the fuck alone about it,” I yell. “Please!”

  He’s silent for a long while. We pull into the back parking lot of the police department and he parks the car. Then he turns and fixes me with a serious expression. “Guy, when you told me that you had met someone, I was overjoyed for you, man. You know that I want you to find someone who makes you happy. If
Samantha Colby does that for you, then I am all for it,” he shrugs, and his voice is sincere as he looks at me. “I just don’t want you to jeopardize your job over it. And I really don’t want it to jeopardize our work on this case.”

  I silently nod at him and he continues. “Look, instead of you taking yourself off this case … why don’t we both just go to Lieutenant Marcos and explain the situation. We’ll get this case reassigned and then you and Samantha are free to do whatever you want.”

  “I can’t do that, Conner,” I tell him with a tired sigh.

  “Why not?”

  “Why not!” My voice sounds incredulous. “Because at this point, I don’t want to trust this case to anyone else; it’s too important. She’s too important,” I hear myself say, and he just looks at me and sighs, shaking his head. “Please, Dave, just … just go with me on this. Look, I know that I’m putting you in an impossible situation here, and I’m sorry,” I tell him earnestly. “But I have to do this.”

  He looks at me for a long minute, and I get the feeling he’s studying me, assessing my feelings for Sam, maybe. Finally, he sighs again. “All right, Guy. We’ll do this your way for now. Just be careful,” he says quietly. “‘Cause now it’s not just your ass in a sling. It’s mine too.”

  I nod at him, and I know that he’s right. If I screw up now and the brass finds out that Conner knew about the relationship and did nothing, it’s both our asses. “Thanks, Conner.”

  “Thank me when we catch this asshole and the case is over,” he mumbles as he gets out of the car and we head inside.

  The rest of my day drags slowly by and I watch the clock almost obsessively. I wrestle with the idea of trying to cut out early but, I know that I shouldn’t. But at a quarter to four, I can’t stand it anymore. I have to make sure she gets home okay. I sigh, looking up from my desk and glance at Conner. “Hey,” I say, getting his attention. “I’m gonna slip out for about half an hour. I’ll be back.”

 

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