When Promise Meets Passion

by Morgan, Nicole

  All of those things would be damn good arguments on Dex’s behalf, too. Leah was more than just some girl he’d slept with. He hoped that, looking down upon them, Dex knew that. The idea of getting struck by lightning or any other divine moments of intervention didn’t sound to pleasing to him.

  As much as he tried to come up with the guilt for sleeping with Dex’s little pip-squeak, he couldn’t. Leah was special to him. There was no chance he would hurt her. He would sooner die than be the cause of any sadness for her. That was why he had been so torn up the past weeks. He didn’t just miss her, he knew something was wrong between them.

  Granted he didn’t know the magical missing ingredient to their failing relationship had been sex. Of course, now that he did know, he made a solemn vow to make sure he applied the proper amount of it to their budding situation. He didn’t want there to be any frustration for either one of them.

  So, if he had to have sex with the most sensual and beautiful woman in the world just to save their relationship, then have sex with her he would. He always prided himself on being a team player, after all.

  Checking his watch often, he hurried through work quicker than usual. He wasn’t cutting corners, but the thought of hurrying home to Leah and a nice home-cooked spaghetti and meatballs meal sure did tempt his tummy and give him that little extra push he needed to up the productivity level.

  He even had Colby pick him up a sandwich on his way back into the station to save himself some time. Being the good boss that he was, he not only paid for his, but the errand boy’s lunch as well. It wasn’t like he was heartless for Christ’s sake.

  Two days ago he had been hard on the kid, pissed off to hear that Leah had been shot and Colby came out of the incident unscathed. It was a shitty reaction to an even shittier situation. Guilt kicked in, and he decided maybe he should be a little nicer to the man who had, as far as he knew, been a damn good partner to Leah and hadn’t crossed any professional boundaries. He was sure the kid probably wanted to, but at least he hadn’t. After what he and Leah shared last night, he was positive she would have told him.

  After wolfing down his sandwich, he ran through several reports, thankful the day had remained steady and quiet. A few times he had to stop himself from picking up the phone and calling her. He was being a pansy-ass, but now that things had changed between them he missed her in a whole other way.

  He would have an internal debate with himself. Just call her for a second, he’d say. Then his rebuttal would remind him that his dick would probably suffer from erection-itis the second her sweet voice picked up the other end. After he spoke to her earlier, he wasn’t able to stand or move in his chair for ten minutes.

  Instead he ignored his boyish insistence that he call her and stayed focused on his work. The less work he had, the quicker he’d be able to get the hell out of there and back to her place. Which in turn would be all the faster he’d have her back in bed writhing underneath him.

  Baseball scores. Think baseball scores.

  He repeated the words to himself several times every time the thought of her got his heart racing and his dick hard. It still perplexed him that he had missed all of the signs. While none of them made sense at the time, her actions of the past weeks suddenly made sense. He had been completely blind to the fact that her feelings had changed. Hell, he’d been blind to his feelings changing, too.

  Ignorance was normally bliss, but in this case, it was a more like what the fuck was he thinking.

  His afternoon started off fairly well. Nothing major was going on at the station. Surprisingly they hadn’t gotten one call regarding vandalism or burglary of any kind. It had been a good week or more since anything had happened. He was no sooner praying to the god of fate, Murphy, that his day stayed at its steady pace when all hell broke loose.

  The great way his day started, quickly turned to a cluster fuck of monumental proportion. Simultaneously and without warning all the phones in the bull pen lit up like a damn Christmas tree, the ringing adding to the Yuletide ambiance of the no longer quiet room.

  A few of his officers looked in his direction as they spoke to callers on the phone. An uncomfortable but familiar feeling settled in his gut. He’d experienced this feeling a few other times in his life. On patrol in the sandbox a few times, the time Leah was in the car accident, the other day when she was shot, and the day he watched his friend drive off, only to have his Humvee flip to the side after a large fireball had blown it up.

  The memory of Dex flying through the air before his body landed hard on the ground was still vivid in his mind. The moment of dread he felt when he knew his friend wouldn’t make it was still so fresh in his mind that sometimes it seemed like it could’ve been just yesterday. Now it was back, looming in the air. He felt the dread surround him in his office and cast a dark shadow over his desk. The heavy weight of fear set in as he realized that at any moment the news he heard would be bad.

  As though he had scripted it, Officer Rogers ran in his office and delivered the news.

  “Chief, we got a shooter at Jefferson High School. Details are sketchy, but it sounds like he’s carrying a sawed-off shotgun, plenty of ammo, and he’s aiming at anyone and everyone in his path.”

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. What in the fuck was this world coming to? A school shooter? Innocent students caught in the crossfire of a gunman?

  Fuck. Shit. Damn.

  “What do we know about casualties?” Cole asked him.

  “Ambulances are in route, but it doesn’t sound like we’re in any position to get inside.”

  He didn’t miss that Rogers used the plural form of the word, which struck him odd. Also, he hadn’t answered his question. He didn’t have time for incompetence or games. Whatever he was dealing with right now, he cared for neither.

  “That didn’t answer my question. What do we know about casualties?”

  “Sounds like there’s at least half a dozen shot. No idea of their condition, only that they’re down.”

  Cole nodded and stood. “Copy that. Head out, and I’ll be right behind you.”

  He reached for his bulletproof vest then pulled a fully charged radio off of its cradle, and grabbed his keys and phone. On his way to the Tahoe he dialed Leah to let her know what was happening. Not only was he not going to make their scheduled dinner, but there was a good chance he was going to need her to suit up and head on in. School shootings were nothing to fuck with, and the possibility of this going into the night and not ending well was pretty high.

  Several times her phone rang. When he finally got her voice mail he left a quick message and told her to stand by for more instructions. He had no idea where she could be and didn’t have time to worry about it.

  Rolling up on the scene fifteen minutes later he saw Colby taping off a perimeter to keep some reporters a safe distance away from the school. How in the fuck the news stations got there before him was beyond his comprehension. It was just more proof of how back assward their world was. People probably called the local news tip line before they even considered dialing emergency assistance.

  “What do we got?” he asked as he approached some of his men.

  They were all gathered around the hood of one of the department squad cars. Rolled out in front of them was a blueprint of what he guessed was the school.

  “Chief, we’ve got a male shooter. He’s approximately six feet and one hundred and eighty pounds. Some of the students say he’s been hanging around the school lately, but none of them can remember a name. The ones that got out didn’t look back. They weren’t really good with information. We’re getting most of our information from someone on the inside through text messages,” Colby answered.

  “What’s his age?”

  Rather than answer, all he heard was silence, coupled with a few shrugs.

  “Jesus, what the fuck? Did you guys even think to ask the witnesses? Does anyone know if we’re dealing with a minor? An adult? What?” he shouted.

  “Well, the witnesses
weren’t sure. They thought maybe early twenties, but…” Colby hesitated.

  Cole didn’t know what the problem was, but he was growing impatient. They needed answers so they could figure out where they stood. He couldn’t exactly concoct a game plan if he had holes in his information thread.

  “But what? Fucking spit it out already.”

  “It’s just that one of the witnesses said she’s seen him drive that car.” Colby pointed to a dark green sedan which had been customized into a low rider.

  Cole took a good look at the car and focused on the first three letters of the license plates. XQR. Realization slapped him with full force.

  “That’s the car that we have the BOLO out on. The car that shot at you two.”

  Silence still resonated around them, despite the growing sound of the crowd gathering to watch news unfold before their very eyes. Whatever they weren’t saying, he didn’t have time for games.

  “What? Fucking spit it out already,” he snapped at Colby.

  “Even though today was Leah’s day off, she promised her old English teacher she would stop by and do a motivational speech for the career week they’re doing here at the school.”

  Cole’s stomach roiled, and he fought the urge to puke. The cloud of dread had not only followed him from his office, but it had unleashed a fury upon him. Lightning struck, and the storm started to rage as the harsh reality of what Colby just told him sunk him.

  Leah had promised her old teacher she’d stop by. This was her old high school.

  In her unbelievably selfless nature, she agreed to do it on her day off.

  Since it was for career week, she was probably in uniform. She was off duty though, and that meant she didn’t have her service revolver on her. Instead, knowing her penchant for gun safety, it was most likely tucked safely away in her gun safe at home.

  All that knowledge hit him square in the chest and knocked the wind out of him. She was here. She was inside. She was in uniform and without protection up against the man who’d tried to kill her two days ago.

  Leah was a sitting duck. A bull’s-eye had been marked on her forehead the second the first shot was fired. Cole knew the second this gangbanger realized the cop he’d shot was still alive he would take no prisoners.

  Dread didn’t begin to describe what he was feeling. This was something worse. He didn’t just have a school full of teachers, faculty, and students to consider. He had Leah to think about.

  His Leah.

  Chapter 8

  Leah held the hand of a trembling teenage girl. With hushed sounds she tried to calm her and the others in the gymnasium. The air was frigid, and a sense of foreboding lingered around the few dozen students who had quickly ushered themselves under the bleachers on Leah’s order.

  She had been in the middle of her speech about civic duty when she’d heard the first shot ring out. There was no mistaking the loud boom of a sawed-off shotgun as it echoed around them. Her first reaction had been to reach for her sidearm and head out in search of the shooter. A mere second passed before she realized it was still locked away in her safe at home.

  Not wasting any time, she quietly told all the students to get under the pull out bleachers, hiding as far back in the dark recesses of cover as they could. She instructed them to remain perfectly still and not make a sound.

  As Mrs. Patrakas and the other English teacher, Mr. Snyder, assisted the students, she made a beeline for the Physical Education Instructor’s office. She knew from her time as a student here that was where the breakers for the lights were.

  No more than a couple of minutes had passed before they were surrounded in darkness and the only sound came from the other students screaming in the hall. She quickly relayed instructions to the two teachers and made her way toward the large double doors in hopes to get a peek at what was happening.

  She took her cell phone from her belt carrier and made sure to silence any sound as well as dimming the backlight. Her first glance though the windows showed students running in the direction of the front doors. Good, she thought to herself. Hopefully many of the students would get away.

  She studied the hallway more closely but couldn’t find any evidence of victims being down. She tried to look for signs of blood amidst the strewn school books, jackets, purses, and bags, but saw none. She said a silent prayer in hopes no one would be harmed in whatever was going on out there. Knowing only one shot had been fired left her feeling someone at ease.

  Just then a young man, early twenties at most, walked past her. He turned toward her, and she quickly ducked down. Trying to suck as much air into her lungs as she could, she struggled to keep from breathing as she scooted her body into the corner where the door met the thick cinder-block wall. She was afraid to move for fear he might sense something in his peripheral vision. She stared at her black, department-issued, lace-up officer shoes and felt like her foot had a flashing neon sign saying, “Here I am.”

  She looked over to where the students were hunkered down below the bleachers and saw Mrs. Patrakas trying to calm a young girl who was appeared to be ready to go into full-blown panic. Slowly, Leah brought her hand up to her lips and made a shushing motion. Any sound at all would give them away. As long as the shooter thought the gym was empty, he would have no reason to come in and check things out.

  He must have sensed someone was hiding, because suddenly the door opened. The short barrel of the shotgun poked through as he held the door open. Like a predator in the wild waiting for his prey to make a mistake, he stood there listening.

  She prayed he wouldn’t open the door any farther. If he did, he would find out really quick that a body was hiding on the other side. Her body. Something told her he wouldn’t be very happy to see her there. It wasn’t a theory she really wanted to put the test.

  Seconds went by as he stood there waiting for any signs of life. For reasons unknown to her, he wasn’t paying attention to the students she could still hear scattering in the hallway and trying to escape. She did her best to not breathe a sigh of relief when he retreated and shut the door behind him.

  Mr. Snyder had started to come toward her, but she held up her hand in protest. She knew very well that despite the door being closed there was nothing to stop him from standing there and waiting for someone to make a mistake.

  After several moments, Leah peeked her head just enough to see through the glass. He really had walked away. She hoped that by now calls were already starting to go out to emergency assistance.

  It crossed her mind to send a text out to Cole first, but she hadn’t told him where she would be today. There was no time to play the where are you game, so she opted for the second speed dial on her phone and shot a message to Darren.

  Short and sweet, it said, School shooter. One confirmed suspect. Sawed off. No known casualties.

  Only seconds passed before she saw the tiny envelope flash on her phone saying she had a message. What the fuck? You’re kidding, right? Fuck no, I know you wouldn’t kid about that. Okay, I’m en route, calling the station.

  She responded. In gym with approx. 40 students and 2 faculty members. Going to calm them before trying to find out more.

  Darren answered. You’re off duty. You don’t have your sidearm do you? Fuck, Leah, stay put. I’m minutes away.

  Just as she read it, another shot rang out and bloodcurdling screams sounded from down the hall. She couldn’t wait even if she wanted to. She was a cop for crying out loud. It was her duty to protect and serve, not hide in the dark while an unknown assailant shot a bunch of innocent bystanders.

  Copy that. Don’t text back, she replied.

  Goddamn it! You’re not staying put are you? Fucking be careful! he answered.

  She turned off her phone, slid it back in its holder, and crawled under the windows of the doors over to where the students and teachers were hiding. The one girl that Mrs. Patrakas had been trying to calm was all but hyperventilating. The last thing any of them needed was Mr. Sawed-off coming back in her
e to check things out again and hearing the sounds of deep and rapid breaths coming from underneath the darkened spaces of the bleachers.

  Leah did the only thing she could think of at the moment. She took the girl in her arms and gave her a soothing hug. Smoothing her hair down, she quietly whispered to her that they were all going to be okay, but only if they were very quiet. The textbook response of trying to rationalize with a victim didn’t seem like the right course of action for this frightened young girl who couldn’t be more than sixteen years old.

  She stood there, holding the girl’s hand, Leah’s eyes pleading with her to be brave. Only minutes had passed since virtual hell broke loose, but at least she had these students in a safe place. She gave them all a stern speech about their cell phones. One of them could call into 911, but the rest had to be turned off. Despite the worry she was sure the parents would feel, the chances of a cell phone making a noise or somehow alerting the gunman of their location wasn’t worth their lives.

  The gang activity in this area was bad enough, but school shooters were completely unpredictable. Most times they were troubled kids on a suicide mission, feeling they were at the end of their rope. In the academy, they actually did a whole week on studying the psyche of troubled teens and what pushes them to violent behavior.

  More often than not, they were the victims of bullies. She knew them being victimized didn’t give them the right to snap and take people’s lives, but she sure as hell wondered how many innocent lives could have been saved if today’s youth weren’t so hung up on the status quo and just were a little nicer to one another.

  It was always afterward people would say that they missed the warning signs. She prayed her old high school didn’t have a student struggling with a crisis so severe that they’d come to the school with no intention of coming out of it alive. A gangbanger she could handle. They had purpose in that they were always trying to get something, or get themselves out of a jam. Gang members could be negotiated with.