by S. J. Bishop
I dialed Jax's number as I jumped into my car and sped toward his house. "Jax," I panted into the phone when his voicemail clicked over, "don't do anything stupid. Don't kill yourself. I'm on my way. I need to talk to you first. Please, just hang on. For me."
I hung up and tried to keep the tears in my eyes from clouding my vision and wetting my face. They fought their way out, though, and soon my cheeks were wet and my lips tasted like salt. I stopped at two red lights before deciding that was a bad idea—I was wasting too much time—and flicked the sirens on my dashboard. That was one of the great things about being a detective—I didn't need to be in a police cruiser to use sirens; I had them right here in my own little Corolla.
I blew past three lights and a couple of stop signs before reaching Jax's street. I turned the sirens off, afraid that if he heard them, he'd think the police force was coming for him to throw him back in jail. Who knew how he'd react? I parked my car in his driveway and got out, my heart racing at the idea of what I might find. Even if Jax was still alive, the idea of telling him I was pregnant sent me into a tizzy. I tried opening his door, but it was locked. I was grateful there weren't any reporters out here as I began frantically ringing his bell and banging on his door. They'd all decided that covering Jax at his trial was much more interesting than covering him as he sat in his living room, never coming outside.
"Jax!" I cried, punching his doorbell again. "Jax! Can you hear me? Open up!" I was pounding my fist against his heavy door when I realized the small side window to the right of his door might be better. It would certainly break easier. I pounded against the glass, making it rattle. It was reinforced, though, and wouldn't break. I took out my gun. If I shot Jax's lock, I ought to be able to get his door open. I'd shot a few locks off doors in my time as a cop and knew it worked as easily as it did in the movies.
I was about to pull the trigger when the door opened. Jax stood there, his face a mask of worry.
"Treena? What's wrong?"
I threw my arms around his neck, kissing every inch of his face, finally landing on his soft, supple lips. The scent of the outdoors filled my nostrils, electrifying me like a pot of coffee. I lowered my hand to his ass and squeezed as he pressed his core to me. His arousal was obvious.
"Wow," Jax murmured. "Now that's a greeting."
I smiled against him, our noses pressed together. "I'm just glad I'm not too late," I said.
I felt his body stiffen. He stepped back. "You got my voicemail," he said.
I nodded. "And Jax, no matter what might happen, leaving like that isn't the answer."
He shook his head, his dark golden hair, rustling against his forehead. "Treena, I love you and I'm glad you're here, but you're not going to change my mind."
I took a deep breath, knowing this was it. "Jax, please," I said, my voice cracking as a fresh wave of tears rushed over me. "I have something I need to tell you." I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his waist and refusing to let go. "I'm not ready to say goodbye. There's something you need to know." I inhaled deeply. "Jax, I'm..." But a sudden fear gripped me. What if I was wrong? What if telling Jax I was pregnant was what sent him over the edge? One more thing to pile up on his stress heap? I'd been so sure it was the answer, but now doubt flooded me. I had to feel him out better before telling him anything. "Jax, please don't kill yourself. I don't know what I'll do without you." I kissed his lips. I felt resistance from him.
His breathing paused. "Kill myself?" Jax asked. "Is that what you thought?" I looked into his face. His eyes were almost laughing.
"Wait... that's not what you meant?" I asked. He shook his head. "But you said you were leaving this world. Tonight."
"I said I was leaving. As in leaving New York. I'm going to Canada."
"Canada?" I asked, relief washing through me. "Jax, you can't go to Canada. You'll be fleeing the country. You'll never be able to come back."
"I know, and I don't care."
I bit my tongue. "Jax, seriously. You can't go. Even if you made it through the border, they'll just extradite you later."
"Not if I go to Venezuela," he said, smiling.
"What?" I asked, dumbfounded by this entire conversation.
"From Canada, I'll go to Venezuela. They don't have an extradition treaty with the U.S."
"You've done your homework," I said. This was bad. He'd really put some thought into this.
"Yes," he replied. "And there's one more thing. Now that you're here... I can't lose you again. Treena... come with me."
37
Jax
"No!" Treena cried out. "I don't want to go to Canada or Venezuela! And neither do you!" Her eyes widened, and her lips curved up into this half-snarl that on anyone else would have been off-putting, but on Treena it was wild and sexy.
"I'm already packed," I told her. Treena stared at me a moment before running to my bedroom. My suitcase lay on the bed. Treena popped it open and started pulling things out. I followed her around, taking back whatever she removed and returning it to my suitcase. We went around like that for a full five minutes—Treena pulling things out, me putting them back in—before I finally grabbed her hand and pulled her close. We were standing so close to each other I could feel her breath on my face. It was warm and sweet and smelled of roses.
"I won't let you go," she said.
"Treena, you can't stop me."
In response, she pressed her mouth to mine. Our tongues twirled together, a hot tornado of kisses as we let the energy possess us. She was irritating the hell out of me, yet I wanted her more now than ever before. My hands worked their way under Treena's shirt, cupping her breasts in the palms of my hands. They were soft and moved almost rhythmically as she began to grind her pelvis against me.
I kissed her neck, tasting the sweet-salty flavor of her skin. She kissed my neck back, sucking me until I was certain she'd left a mark. Treena reached down and stroked my cock through my tight jeans. My heart fluttered, and I knew I couldn't take this foreplay much longer.
I pushed the suitcase off my bed. It fell to the floor and half my clothes fell out, scattering on the hardwood like they were trying to run away and hide.
"This won't change anything," I breathed into her ear as I laid her gently on the mattress. "I'm still leaving."
She smiled softly. "I know. But I want you anyway." I pinned her arms up over her head, pushing her pants down to her ankles. Her pussy was already hot and wet. My belt came off in a flash, and my erection worked its way between her thighs, spreading her legs wide as I pressed my tip against her opening.
Just then, Treena's phone rang. Her eyes shot open.
"Shit," she said, squirming under me. "I need to get that."
"What?" I panted, unable to believe she would stop now to take a phone call.
"I'm sorry, Jax. It's important. I've been waiting for that call."
I let out a long sigh and let Treena up. She grabbed her phone, and my balls began to ache.
"Emily?" she asked, pulling her pants back up.
My ears perked up. Emily? Why was talking to Emily suddenly so important? Treena was nodding her head. "Thanks," she said. "I'm on my way." She hung up and turned to me.
"I need to go," she said, running down the stairs as I followed after her. "Can you promise me you won't go anywhere until you hear from me?"
I hesitated. "Treena..."
"Please," she insisted, her liquid blue eyes looking even brighter and more watery than normal. "I might have something in the works that will help you. You might not have to run."
"And if I do?" I pressed. "Will you come with me?"
I could see the conflict in her eyes. "I... I don't know. My family's all here. If I leave with you, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to see them again."
"Goddammit, Treena. Your family is great, but they don't need you. Not like I do!"
She pursed her lips. "I promise to think about it. If you promise to wait. Just a little while. Just give me tonight."
My hear
t rejoiced at the idea that she might actually go with me. "Tonight, and then tomorrow I want your decision." She nodded fervently, her face glowing.
"Alright," I sighed. "I'll wait."
She threw her arms around me and pressed her lips to mine. My cock throbbed below my waist. "You're leaving me with a serious case of blue balls, you know that, right?"
She grinned. "I'll make it up to you later. Promise."
I exhaled, trying to steady the blood pulsing inside me. I grinned back at her. "I'm not sure Coach Allen would approve of letting you change my mind, but then, he isn't the one who gets to kiss you and fondle you in inappropriate ways." I pressed my mouth to hers once more, but she pulled away.
"What do you mean? About Coach Allen?"
I shrugged. "It was his idea for me to get the hell out of Dodge while I still could."
Treena's eyes glowered. "Well, Coach Allen is an idiot then. The next time I see him, I'm gonna tell him so too."
"I bet you will," I said, snickering. "I'd like to see that. Coach is one tough guy."
"Well, I'm one tough girl."
"That you are."
38
Treena
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as I sat in my car outside the station, breathing deeply. I texted Emily. I'm outside.
A minute later I got a text back. The coast is clear. Just give me a minute.
Suddenly, a fire alarm blared into the night. It was almost eleven, and even in New York, people slowed down at this time of night. The station began to empty out, handfuls of cops trailing into the streets, but not nearly as many as if it were still daylight. I got out of my car and snuck along the side of the building. I saw Emily get ushered outside along with the rest of the cops who were on night shift. She caught my eye and gave me a thumbs up.
I moved quickly through the doors and into the building. There was so much happening right now, it was doubtful that I'd be noticed. Even if I was, it wasn't as if I couldn't be here. I worked here. I could come and go as I pleased. That wasn't the point of the distraction. Emily hadn't pulled the fire alarm so I could get into the building; she'd pulled it so I could get into Anderson's office undetected.
I opened his door and peeked inside. Empty. I shut the door behind me as I stepped in. I didn't know how much time I had, and I didn't intend to waste it. I started at Anderson's desk. It was a quarter the size of Captain Murphy's, but seemed to have just as many papers. A desktop computer sat at one end. I started pulling open drawers, not sure exactly what I was searching for but knowing it had to be here. If I couldn't find anything then it would be up to Emily. She'd have to search his apartment the next time she was there.
The middle drawer held nothing but pens, paper clips, and assorted rubber bands. One deep drawer seemed promising at first. There was a metal case inside it with a locking mechanism. It popped open without the key, and I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world, but inside was nothing but Alka Seltzer.
I shut the drawer and put my hands on my hips, wondering if I should search his filing cabinet next. Or maybe his computer? It was probably password encoded, and I had no idea what his password might be. I'd been in his office maybe five or six minutes, and I could hear the rest of the cops starting to filter back in. They would have realized it was a false alarm by now. I just hoped I could sneak out of here undetected. If I needed her to, I knew Emily would pull the alarm again. I came around to the front of the desk, deciding that I would go through the file cabinet at the back of the room.
Suddenly, the door opened and Anderson came walking inside. His eyes widened when he saw me. He looked pissed.
39
Jax
"Hello. My name is Jax, and I'm an alcoholic." I gripped the sides of the podium like it was a shield.
Everyone in the room responded, "Hi, Jax."
It was still surprising to me how crowded a late night Alcoholics Anonymous meeting could get. There must have been fifty people in here, maybe more. I remembered when Caden had brought me here for the first time. I'd been shocked that so many people felt the way I did—that the midnight to four a.m. hours were the toughest to wait out without a drink. It was fine if you could sleep, but with so much going on in my life right now, who could sleep?
The second Treena had left, I knew I needed to get to a meeting. If I didn't... I didn't know what might happen. After my recent debacle, I'd promised Caden that the next time I wanted a drink, I'd go to a meeting. If I still wanted a drink after the meeting then that was my choice, but first I had to sit through the meeting.
I paused before continuing, searching the room for any hidden reporters or paparazzi. But all I saw here were the faces of weary men and women who wanted nothing more than to make it through the night without a drink. "It's been... awhile since my last drink." I sighed. "Well, not that long, really. A couple of weeks or so." I was fumbling my words. I hated fumbling my words. It made me feel like an idiot.
"I guess I just... have been under a lot of stress lately and..."
"Murderer!" someone shouted. A dozen faces shot in the direction of the voice. The Latino man running the meeting, Carlos, jumped up next to me, speaking into the microphone.
"Now please, remember why we're all here."
"That's right!" several people called out, but I sensed a shift in the room's energy. I'd been so worried about running into reporters coming here that it had never occurred to me that it might be the very people I was seeking guidance and reassurance from who would be the ones I had to be careful around.
Several people began whispering among themselves. I heard the words, "Murdered his wife," making their way around the room. I stood at the podium a moment longer before deciding it wasn't worth it. I'd made a mistake coming here.
"Wait," Carlos called after me. "Everyone, please calm down. We are not here to judge."
An elderly man in his seventies rose from his chair as I went past him. He clapped one hand on my shoulder, startling me. I spun around to see kindness in his eyes.
"Happiness is being grateful for what you have, not wishing for the things you want. Be careful out there, friend."
I nodded once and left the meeting, trying to take comfort in the man's words. I couldn't go to Canada yet; I'd promised Treena. If there was even a chance that she might go with me, I'd wait. I was just pulling my phone out of my pocket when it buzzed in my hand. I looked down, surprised to find that it was a text from Geoffrey.
Your ship has come in. I'm getting you out of this mess. Get ready to ante up with the name of that cop you've been screwing.
I texted him back. What are you talking about? Why don't you call me if it's so important?
My phone buzzed again. Sorry, thought you'd be sleeping. Something big happened today. I'll fill you in later. For now, get ready to give up your girlfriend. She's not worth going to jail over.
I didn't know what to think. What could have possibly happened that it would be worth losing Treena? I had to talk to her and Geoffrey. In person.
40
Treena
"Good, I'm glad you're here," Anderson said, shutting the door behind him.
"You are?" I asked, a little shocked by his nonchalant attitude at finding me in his office.
"Of course. When you didn't respond to my text, I wasn't sure you'd gotten my message. It's almost midnight; I figured you might be in bed."
"Oh, no, I was awake. I was just... reading. I got your message and came right on down. I just decided to wait in your office so we didn't miss each other," I said, trying to play it off like I knew exactly what he was talking about. I pulled my phone from my pocket and tried to hide it as I tapped the button and read the text I had waiting for me. I wished I'd seen it sooner. Breaking news in the Ryder case. Get to the station ASAP.
"Good thinking. We can't waste any time playing games with this one. We've got to figure it out tonight." He grimaced, shuffling through some papers on his desk as he continued to talk. "It's just like a fucking defe
nse attorney to pull something like this after the trial's already started."
"Do you want to fill me in on what this breaking news is?" I asked, a growing worry surfacing in me. Whatever it was, it must be big. I hadn't seen Anderson worked up like this since the night Jax was arrested.
A fire truck siren sounded from outside. Flashing lights flickered through Anderson's window.
"Damn it! Of all the times for that stupid alarm to go off. I'll be right back."
He left the room in a huff. Since Captain Murphy was at home, he probably thought he should take it upon himself to handle the false alarm situation. He was probably right. After all, he was the senior detective here.
I took the opportunity to take a quick peek inside his filing cabinet. I pulled out the file on Jax but didn't see anything in it I didn't already know. I quickly rummaged through some other files, looking for names or dates that might tie into either Penny or Jax, but I didn't see anything. Anderson's voice sounded from outside his office. He was yelling at the rest of the cops on duty.
"It was just a false alarm!" Anderson shouted. "That doesn't translate into break time. Get moving! All of you!"
I shut the filing cabinet and took a giant step back toward his desk. Anderson opened the door, slamming it behind him with enough force to rattle the bookcase at the side of the room.
I was about to ask what was the problem was but decided to keep my mouth shut. He would tell me when he was ready. He walked behind his desk, mumbling softly to himself. "Stupid alarms... idiot attorneys... all bullshit."
Finally, he looked up at me. "Jax Ryder's attorney got a second opinion on the coroner's report."
I held my breath. "And?"
"And it differs from the original report," he spat.