by A. M. Kusi
“Absolutely.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a tan purse before heading out the door.
The office was silent. Bently walked back to his desk, not bothering to close his door, and pulled open the folder. A picture of a young boy who couldn’t be more than thirteen stared back at him. He shook his head. So young and already in the system thanks to a bad decision and Officer Parsons’s gut feeling.
A few minutes later, Andre’s voice called out. “Bent?”
“In here.”
Dre peeked his head inside before walking in. His dark skin was spotted with a mixture of sawdust and white flecks of plaster.
“Came from the worksite?”
Dre nodded. “Yeah. Your brother is driving me nuts, so I could use the break.”
Bently chuckled and gestured to the metal chair across from him. Andre sat and scooted forward, his elbows rested on the worn wooden desk. Bently pushed the array of images towards Andre, studying his reaction.
Andre shook his head. “Not him.”
“You sure? None of them?”
Andre pointed to each photo. “Nope. No. Definitely not. And this kid is way too young. He’s just a baby. Was he arrested?”
Bently glanced at the face of the kid that Parsons had arrested. “Yeah. For resisting arrest after being caught vandalizing the abandoned buildings on Kent.”
Andre shook his head. “No one cares about those eyesores. Hell, we used to do it. Who brought him in?”
“Officer Luke Parsons and his partner.”
“Figures.”
Bently frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Andre sat back in his chair. “Oh, come on, Bent. You know that guy’s got a hard-on for targeting a certain group of people. He’s pulled me over more times than I can count. You can’t let him get this kid into the system.”
“Are you saying he’s racist?” No way. The man had been a cop longer than Bently had been alive. He was one of the good guys.
“Are you saying you really don’t know?” Dre shot back.
“Parsons is from a different generation. He likes to joke around and give everyone a hard time. That’s just who he is. But he’s a good cop.”
With all the racial tension peaking in the country, he understood why Belle reacted the way she had towards him. He didn’t have to like being lumped in with the few bad apples and others who hid behind the badge to sweep their misdeeds under the rug.
I’m one of the good ones and so are my team.
“Sure, that’s why I came in here to look at a boy who doesn’t fit the description of the mugger’s accomplice except for one thing.” Andre held out his finger. “The color of his skin. But all Black people look the same to some.”
Is Parsons racist? The man had been his mentor. Parsons was a prickly old bastard, but he gave everyone a hard time. “Doesn’t he have coffee with your dad every week at the diner?”
“Yeah. You’re right. He has a Black friend, so he can’t be racist,” Andre said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s alright. You wouldn’t understand anyways.” Andre waved him off.
“You need to get laid and let off some steam, my friend.”
Andre growled, “And you need to mind your own fucking business.”
“Ooh touchy subject.” Bently chuckled. “Thanks for coming in. And for your thoughts on Parsons. I haven’t seen it myself, but I’ll definitely keep it in mind.”
“No problem.” Andre stood just as Betsy returned with her hands full.
“Miss Betsy, you have a nice day. Don’t let this guy work you too hard,” Andre said, nodding as he left.
“Have a good one yourself, young man.” Betsy set Bently’s food containers in front of him before carefully placing a plastic fork on top along with his credit card.
“Thank you, Betsy.”
“I don’t know how you can stand that rabbit food every day,” she mumbled, motioning to his Caesar salad before walking slowly out to her own desk.
He didn’t much care for it either, but his health was important. Too many people were counting on him and he couldn’t afford to get sick again.
Unfortunately, his lunch would have to wait a little longer. First, he needed to sort out this mess Parsons had left on his desk. The kid had no prior record and the few hours he’d spent in holding should be enough to deter him from future bad decisions involving a spray can. Bently would call in a favor and get the charges dropped in exchange for the kid agreeing to work with Aaron at Hope Facility. This kid deserved a fighting chance. It also cleared his conscience and the niggling feeling that Andre was right about Parsons. Bently would keep an eye on Parsons’s future arrests and see if there was a pattern. He picked up his phone and pressed the contact info.
“Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any better,” the husky female voice of ADA Lucy Millstone answered.
“Hey, Miss Millstone, I need a favor.”
She chuckled. “It’s about damn time, Sheriff. I knew I’d wear you down one of these days.”
He smiled. At least some women were not immune to his charm. “I got a boy in lockup who I believe would benefit from some community service rather than a stint in juvie.”
“All work and no play, huh?” she teased.
He’d enjoyed their flirtatious banter back and forth for years. He’d never crossed the line because he was the sheriff and she was the prosecutor. There was too much of a conflict of interest in the powers at play, and above all, Bently respected the office. That was why, once he’d become sheriff, he’d ventured outside city limits when he needed some female company. Until Belle. He’d never wanted a woman as much as her before. If she elicited such a reaction from him with the brush of a touch, how much more amazing would the sex actually be?
“Sheriff?” Lucy called, bringing him back to the issue at hand.
“Yeah, sorry. Been a long day. I’ll send you over the details in an email.”
***
Later that evening, he drove to the public courts parking lot. He’d run home long enough to change into some long shorts, a muscle shirt, and his sneakers. He parked his truck and grabbed the basketball out of the bed as he walked towards the near-empty courts. A lone figure caught his eye dribbling down the side before shooting and scoring a basket.
“Nice shot,” Bently called out.
The boy turned, his demeanor changing the instant his eyes met Bently’s.
It was the kid with the bike. “TJ, right?”
TJ nodded. “Sheriff.”
Bently dribbled his own ball as he approached the young man. “You can call me Bently. I’m off duty.”
TJ searched the empty lot behind them.
“You up for a little one-on-one?” Bently asked.
TJ hesitated, turning his head to scan the area.
“I promise I’ll go easy on ya.” Bently smiled, hoping to set him at ease.
TJ faced him again. “Alright. Let’s see what you got.”
Bently set his ball aside and situated himself at the half line. “First one to five wins.”
TJ didn’t waste a second as he faked left and swerved around, narrowly missing Bently’s block. He had to hustle to keep up with him. The kid was quick. TJ lined up the shot. Bently swiped his hand out, knocking the ball from TJ’s grip. The ball bounced out of bounds. TJ ran over to get it. Bently crowded the line, shifting his weight from side to side in anticipation of TJ’s move. The ball bounced between his legs and TJ disappeared around his left, quickly catching the ball and making the shot. Nothing but net.
“Damn. You’re good at this,” Bently said, his blood pumping. This was going to be more of a challenge than he’d thought. “I let you have that one, so get ready for my A game.” He chuckled.
Forty-fiv
e minutes and three games later, Bently crashed onto the metal bench out of breath. He stripped off his shirt, now soaked with sweat. He’d won two out of three, but TJ was good.
“You play on the school’s team?” Bently asked.
“Nah. I’m graduating this semester and I don’t have time for team sports.”
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“Ahh, so you’re like super smart, then.” Bently wiped his head with his shirt.
TJ shrugged, and smiled as if he was shy. “I’m starting January classes at the local college. I want to be a doctor someday.”
“Wow. Well, I’m sure you’ll get there. You seem like a good kid.”
TJ nodded. He seemed more relaxed around Bently now that they had spent some time challenging each other and laughing.
“Thanks for my bike. Sorry about my sister the other day.”
Belle. The woman was an enigma. She’d gotten under his skin.
“No problem. Happy I could help . . . Is she always so . . .” Uptight? Rigid? Angry?
TJ laughed. “Protective?”
That was a safer answer. “Yeah.”
“She has good reason,” TJ said seriously, as his eyes grew dark. “She’s like my mom more than my sister.”
“Where are your parents?”
TJ shifted his gaze to the ball in his hands. “Not in the picture.”
“Mine either,” he confessed.
TJ looked up at him. “Why are you hanging out with me?”
Bently shrugged. “I came here to play ball.”
TJ nodded, seemingly accepting his answer.
“You made any friends yet?”
The kid hesitated. “One.”
Bently pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Give me your phone number and I’ll send you the link to a pretty cool place my friend Aaron runs. A lot of teens in the area hang out at his facility. They have basketball courts, game rooms, people your age.”
TJ took his phone and typed in his information before handing it back. Bently sent him the link to Hope’s website.
“You really got it bad for Belle, don’t ya?” TJ asked.
Bently cringed. “What do you mean?”
“You’re not the first to try and fail to get with my sister. Besides, you left a puddle of drool in our driveway.” TJ laughed.
Bently pushed his shoulder playfully. “I did not.”
“You sure seemed speechless.” TJ smirked.
“Well, she’s made it clear she doesn’t want anything to do with me. I can respect when a woman tells me no.” He wasn’t a total asshole.
“You’re not really her type.”
A pang of disappointment rippled through him. “She prefers doctors?”
TJ laughed again. “Something like that.”
Bently stood and stretched his tired limbs. “You want a ride back home?”
“My sister’s at work.”
“What’s that got to do with my question?” Bently asked, confused.
“So, if you’re using me to get to her, it won’t work.” TJ eyed him warily, though he still had a smile on his face.
“That’s not the kind of guy I am,” Bently assured him.
The distrust in TJ’s eyes seemed to waver.
Bently picked up his ball and headed back towards his truck as he called over his shoulder, “You coming?”
This kid was almost as hard to win over as his sister. But Bently had never backed down from a challenge before, and he wasn’t about to start now.
Chapter 7
Belle
August turned into a crisp September. The leaves changed to vibrant reds, yellows, and oranges. There was nothing like fall in New England. Belle inhaled the cup of cinnamon apple tea before taking a sip. The sky seemed as if it were on fire with its vivid hues blending into the increasing darkness. Each day was getting shorter than the last as they inched towards winter.
She placed her mug back into the center console before grabbing her water bottle. This was the last self-defense class in this six-week cycle, and then they’d start over from the beginning next week for any newcomers.
Belle was glad she’d stuck it out, even though she had to deal with the incessant flirting and banter between the ladies vying for Bently’s attention. She’d quickly taken a spot on the sidelines, just trying to learn the skills and get out of there before she combusted. Bently’s searing gaze burned her skin often. She had resorted to racing from class as soon as it was finished, and she waited until one minute before class started before she went inside.
This would be her last class. Then she could be free of Bently Evans.
“Hey, girl.” Katy waved.
“Hello.” Belle set her water next to her friend’s.
“You ready for the test?” Katy asked.
This was the moment she’d been waiting for. A chance to see if her new skills measured up.
“Hell yes,” she said, her veins thrumming with adrenaline. I can do this.
Bently walked in, followed by a few other dangerously handsome men. “Good evening, ladies. These here are my volunteers. You get to test out your abilities on taking them down. I bet them each a hundred bucks that you ladies could do it, so don’t fail me now.” He smirked.
There was a collective moan throughout the room.
“You got this. You’ve trained for this. Now you can see how it would be with a man,” he finished.
Belle’s stomach fluttered with nerves. These guys were big. She was only five feet two inches. How could she take down one of these giants?
Bently nudged the scarred, tattooed man she’d seen outside the bar.
“I’m Mason,” he mumbled.
“Mason is a former Navy SEAL,” Bently added.
The handsome man next to Mason said, “I’m Rife Owens, an officer with Shattered Cove PD.”
“Look at the man candy,” Katy whispered in her ear with a giggle.
Belle gave her a polite smile. Her friend was right—these men were sex on a stick.
“Okay, let’s clear the floor. We need the first three volunteers—each one of you will go up against one of us. If you don’t get it on the first time, don’t worry. We’ll walk you through the steps until you’re confident in your abilities in a lifelike simulation. Your attacker won’t be as lenient as practicing with your fellow partners,” Bently assured the ladies in the room.
“I call dibs on the SEAL.” Katy nudged her.
As long as I don’t have to spar with Bently.
Bently turned on a speaker and “Queen” by Loren Gray blared through the sound system.
She tapped her foot as the first three women went. Marcy sidled up to Bently, shoving another woman out of her way with her hip. Belle rolled her eyes and took a seat. She’d wait until the room calmed down. One after the other, the women took their turns, grappling with the beefy men. To see the uncertainty on their faces grow to confidence by the end of their session was the most exciting part. She and Katy cheered on the ladies as they practiced their moves on the men.
Katy chuckled. “This is how the world should be—each woman supporting the other to take down the patriarchy.”
“With the help of our allies of course.” Belle nodded towards the three men taking hit after hit, and willingly coming back for more.
“I have to admit, if I was cornered by those three, I’d probably beg them to do their worst.”
Belle burst out in warm, light-filled laughter. For the first time in a long while, she was relaxed and having fun. Her eyes caught with Bently’s and her smile quickly faded. Marcy took advantage of his distraction and twisted out of his hold and had him on his knees. Bently said something to her and then she released him with a smile as she jumped up and down. Belle averted her eyes to the other groups, draw
ing in a deep breath.
Some women left after they finished their turns. Katy went up against Mason. Belle cheered her on. When she was finished, she high-fived the giant and went back to sit with Belle.
“Who’s next?” Bently asked, searching the few women left against the mirrored wall. Belle looked over her shoulder. Everyone had gone except her.
Shit.
She stood to her shaky feet. “I guess I’m up.”
Awareness prickled her skin. The room suddenly seemed a lot warmer. She stood in front of him.
“Ready?” he asked.
Not really. “Yes.”
Bently grabbed her arm. Even though she’d come to expect the current of energy that snapped between them, it was still a shock to her system. There was no preparing for the onslaught of feelings that erupted from his touch—fire that promised devastation. Raw, unbridled sexual attraction spun her up like a tornado, whipping her around until she lost all her senses except one—fear. His eyes darkened with dense storm clouds blurring between them, crackling her synapses. She forced her breath in and out slowly and focused on the task—getting his hands off her.
Channeling her anger at the power this man held over her body, she grabbed his knuckles and swung her arm like he’d taught her. He didn’t go down quite as easily as he had when she’d first learned this move six weeks ago. She used her weight to push him.
He fell to his knees. “Great.”
She dropped his hand like it was on fire, but the blaze was inside her. She sucked in a staggered breath, wiping the beads of sweat that had formed on her brow. He directed her through a series of grabs that they’d learned as the dreaded choke hold drew nearer. Her muscles strained and flexed, shoving him to the ground again and again. Each position added fuel to the tension that wound around them.
“Perfect,” he commented, staying on his knees. “Last one.”
She steeled herself and lay on her back. Exposed and vulnerable, her skin lit with anticipation. He moved closer, situating himself between her thighs, every point of contact magnified by whatever this thing was between them. His hands reached for her neck as his scent washed over her. Oak and sin. She licked her lips, tasting it on her tongue. His eyes darted to her mouth. Her inner walls clenched. Arousal thrummed through her, so powerful, she worried he’d feel the vibration. His focused blue eyes locked on to hers—bright and pure and edged in darkness. Breathing came in pants as she fought the urge to grind against him. He leaned in closer still. Her mouth went dry. Was he going to kiss her? She wanted him to.