All This Time

by Marie Wathen

  Kris huffs wanting to argue, but moves her ass and we are on the interstate heading toward Birmingham in my Camaro, which I haven’t driven since this case began. Luckily and quiet easily, I get Kris talking about her job and a new guy that she met at a nursing conference in Charlotte, and she completely forgets that she wanted to ask about what’s bothering me.

  “So, is it love?” I ask sitting in the booth across from Kris watching the blush edging up her neck as she begins telling me about the amazing Tate Sylvester.

  She smirks then drops her eyes to the leftover slice of pizza lying on her plate, trying to hide her joy. “I don’t know Sam. We’ve only just met. Do you really think anyone falls in love that fast?”

  Chewing on my final slice of heaven on earth, I bob my head up and down then say, “No. That’s just bullshit that romance writers feed the masses.” Suddenly, my protective instincts kick in, but I keep them in check because I don’t want her cynical about love the way I am. “Is that what’s happening here? Was it love at first sight?”

  I watch her expression shift from worried to happy as she recounts the day that she met Tate and all of their fantastic dates. The sparkle in her eyes tells me that she is most definitely teetering on the falling in love side of the relationship seesaw. A weight begins to lift from my chest. I’m happy Kris found someone. She devotes every minute of her life to working hard so that she can help pay her half of the bills. It makes me sick knowing that she doesn’t have to do it. I make more than enough money to cover expenses for the entire house, but she was adamant about keeping everything fair when we moved in. The woman is as stubborn as a mule.

  “Are you done?” she asks, placing her napkin on her now empty plate.

  I nod and we make our way through the crowd congregating at the front door of Davenport’s Pizza. We reach my car in the back parking lot before she launches her attack.

  “So are you going to tell me what’s going on with you? We can’t spend the whole day talking about me.” She smiles proudly for directing our conversation back to me as she sits down in the passenger seat.

  “Kris, I’m fine. Everything is fine,” I sigh starting the car and blasting the air conditioning so that we can get some relief from the blazing heat. Seeing her eyebrows pinch together, I know that she won’t relent so I toss her a bone. “Fine, I haven’t been feeling well for the past couple of weeks, but it’s probably just stress.”

  “Stress?” she places a hand on my arm and with a tremble in her voice, she asks, “why are you stressed Sam? Has something happened? Can Russ do anything to help?”

  She means well, I know she does, but Kris doesn’t have any idea about the shit that really happens in my line of work. She’s an innocent, completely pure of all the damn hell that runs rampant in my tarnished world, and I plan on keeping her shielded. Never will I expose Kris to the murkiness and filth, and I vow to kill the bastard that ever does.

  “Kris, you know I can’t talk about specifics.” She nods and a frown plays on her lips. “But…”

  “What?” I don’t answer immediately and she begins to whine, “Oh, damn Sam give me something. A crumb, please!”

  Her eyes are begging and the smile on her face is so sweet forcing me to bend my rule. Kris is the kindest person I know and it’s only out of concern for her that I keep most things to myself. I just can’t stand the thought of someone tainting her, especially me. But when she looks at me this way, how can I refuse my best friend anything?

  “Alright, you win. I am apparently boosting Russ’ game inside.” I smile proudly, and she twists in her seat, fully facing me. “Before I came on board, he wasn’t involved with the higher ranks like he is now. He credits me, but I doubt it’s that simple.”

  “Hmm, so these higher ranks?” She pauses, slipping into deep thought before saying, “I’m just trying to work this out in my head. You have ranking officers in the drug world, right?” I nod, wishing now that I hadn’t said anything at all about my job. “Okay so if Russ isn’t in the ranks then he’s what? Like some sort of enlisted, like in the military? And if so does that mean he has to do things that wouldn’t be considered everybody’s favorite job?” She pauses again staring straight at me, but I don’t respond. “Sam, does that mean you have to…” Her eyes flick down looking at her folded hands lying on her lap.

  I laugh softly and reassure her, “Kris, I don’t have to do anything. Everything is fairly laid back.” Her eyes lift up meeting mine again, but her eyebrows are still pulled together tightly. “Seriously honey, I went out to a club a few times and I get to work in a tattoo parlor.” I roll my wrist around and show her the new ink I got last month. Those two tidbits of information encourage her, so I keep telling her about the good stuff, what little there is, I’ve experienced over the past seven months. For the next fifteen minutes, I allow her to slip into my forbidden world and she is glowing from it.

  “Yeah, I can see how you could get so stressed out. Um, lifestyle of the rich and famous called and said they want their life back.” Kris giggles and finally the heaviness I was feeling earlier wanes away with each of her tiny shoulder bounces.

  Her green eyes sparkle with flecks of yellow again confirming that we’re okay. “Sam,” Still smiling, Kris grabs my hand flips it so that it’s palm up and she places hers over it. “I love you. Thank you for sharing with me. Promise, that when things are bothering you that you will share something, anything with someone, but not just anyone. Share with someone who you truly care about. One, only people who care about you will actually listen. Two, it’s not healthy to hold these things in too long.” She offers me a heavy sigh mixed with a smirk and I know that whatever she is about to reveal after all of that wisdom will most likely be crap. “And three, if you do keep it in too long someone could get hurt when your head explodes.”

  Kris chuckle-snorts and I punch her arm. “Oh, shoot, I can’t forget the most important point. Four is you need sex.” I freeze staring at her, but barely hear the words still rolling out of her mouth. Shit. She grins foolishly and I swallow hard. “It will make you feel one hundred percent better, Sweets.” She narrows her eyes on me, glances down at our hands feeling the dampness pooling in my palms. “What? What’s wrong?” Then it hits her. “Oh my god you had sex!” Kris shouts, jarring me out of my ice cube state of mind.

  “What?” I shake my head, “No!”

  “Sam?”

  “I said, no.”

  “You’re full of it.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Sam…”

  “Kris…”

  “I’ll just keep going on and on about it until you finally relent and tell me everything, or we can just cut the long, drawn out process now and you can tell me the juicy details now. Either way it’s up to you. So what is it going to be, huh? Are you going to tell me who he is…?” Pausing, she twists around in her seat, and looks out the front window while her smile continues growing, “Never mind.”

  “What?” Something is fishy. Kris never gives up, like ever.

  “Oh, nothing,” she glances back at me, “I’m going to let it go.”

  “Bullshit, you never let it go. What gives?”

  She shrugs. “I’m just not going to push you. So this is me, letting it go.”

  I nod unconsciously and she just turns away, looking out the damn window with that damn knowing smile plastered on her face. Fuck, she’s going to ask Russ.

  Chapter Twelve

  September

  “Finally,” I groan blissfully slipping under the thick, foaming bubbles skimming on top of the hot tub nestled against the wall on the back patio. Russ opens the sliding glass door and pokes his head out spotting me getting comfy.

  “Don’t fall asleep.” He smirks knowingly and then reminds me, “It may be a few hours before I get back.”

  “I’m good,” I moan happily, saluting him with my glass and then sipping my whiskey. “Be sure to lock the front door when you leave. Oh, and say hello to that prick for me.”
>
  He chuckles. “The Captain will get a kick out of that one.” He closes the door and I drop my head back against the edge of the tub, feeling the tension ebbing away with each stream of hot water jetting out against my sore muscles.

  This morning Russ and I slipped off to the training center and took in a F.A.T.S course, Fire Arms Training Simulator. After running through several shooting scenarios, my dumb ass decided to take a pounding from our on-site martial arts instructor and now I’m paying the price with a fat lip and some bruised ribs. Chilling for an hour or so in the tub will work out most of the soreness. Hopefully the ice pack I held to my mouth for thirty minutes earlier will help reduce some of the swelling.

  After the week I’ve had with the trap house getting busted, and the police arresting Murph and Wise for distribution charges, and then seizing the house, leaving Momma in the incapable hands of Department of Human Resources, I decided that a night off alone is exactly what I need. Losing the house puts a damper on our case, but it’s only temporary because Decks promises that he’s actively working on relocating our crew. However, with the two guys indisposed for the time being, we are forced into a small hiatus.

  Seizing the opportunity of my short break, I contacted a health care facility yesterday and had Momma moved into one of their small apartments. I had my attorney set up a trust so that her expenses would be taken care anonymously. I may be a hardcore bitch on the outside, but inside I’m the respectful young woman my Gran raised me to be, and I believe in taking care of those who deserve help. Momma’s heart was broken when the county took away the only thing she had left in this world after losing her husband five years ago. After spending so much time getting to know the sweet woman and her treating me better than my own mother ever has, I just couldn’t stomach the idea of her being in a rat infested HUD home.

  Scrolling through the radio channels on the attached stereo, I find one playing some Miles Davis and crank it up. I fetch my tumbler and close my eyes again absorbing the warm sounds, drink and water. Bobbing my head, I relax as the trumpets and snare soothes my mind of all the monotonous bullshit and I sink deeper into the roaring bubbles. Early autumn temps can get cool in north Georgia at night; rolling, scalding hot water is smashing on this one.

  “That’s an interesting song choice,” a deep sophisticated voice rumbles in the night air, scaring me out of my serene state. Instinctively, I reach for my gun, but stop when I recognize the figure appearing out of the shadows along the edge of the house, invading my private retreat.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I snap frustratingly as I thrust forward, switching off the blaring music. My quick movements force a large gush of water over the rim of the tub, soaking the intruder’s expensive leather loafers and I can’t stop my pleased smile. A devilish grin spreads across Blues’ face when he looks up from the waterlogged shoes.

  “Oh, I’m enjoying the sights and sounds on this cool September evening. “All Blues,” by Miles Davis? Nice selection and I am flattered that you’re still thinking about me.” I refuse to be drawn into that lame attempt at provoking me.

  Grabbing my towel, I stand and wrap it around before slipping over the edge of the tub. Truthfully, I am pissed that he knows the name of the damn song, and wouldn’t you know it has his freaking name in it. I stifle the vulgarity popping off like fireworks on New Year’s Eve in my head, pulling an indifferent half-ass smile.

  “Why are you here?” Getting out of the warm water and covering my nearly naked body from so I could block his smoldering eyes seemed like a good idea when I hatched it, but the cool temperature blast has me reconsidering that harebrain plan. My skin prickles instantly with chill bumps, or at least I think it’s from the cold. I rub my hands over my arms, warding them off. Blues notices and inches closer. “And why didn’t you use the front door like a proper gentleman?” I ask, feeling vulnerable about him skulking around our backyard at nine o’clock at night.

  He stops a few feet in front of me, smelling warm and woodsy, and looking damn sexy as hell in his black business suit and crisp white shirt. Blues wearing casual clothes is a challenge to my sanity, but seeing him dressed in tailored Armani will be the death of me. I nibble on my bottom lip anxiously. Smiling roguishly and shoving his hands into his front pants pockets, he leans against the white patio column, completely comfortable with invading my sanctuary. Damn this infuriating man.

  “I rang the doorbell twice. When no one answered I started for my car, but then I heard the music coming from back here. So I decided to let myself in through the side gate.” Frustrated by his ease of doing whatever he damn well pleases, my eyebrows draw in and my attitude can no longer be contained.

  “I should call the cops and report that an intruder just broke into my house,” I hiss, standing firmly in place, when all I really want to do is rush forward, wrap myself around his incredible body and then rub against him like a kitten. My body is no longer my own. Heat flares deep within my core and I moved several steps toward him without even realizing it.

  “Ah, but this isn’t your house. Now is it?” Something dark moves through his facial features and I can’t quite classify the look, but it causes me to settle down a bit.

  “Rad isn’t here and I don’t know when to expect him back. I think you need to leave Mr. Sloane.”

  Strolling tentatively toward me, Blues lifts his hand to my face and I see annoyance beginning to roll like destructive waves through his dark ocean blue eyes. “Did he do this to you?” he growls, gliding his thumb over the sensitive spot on my lip.

  I fight like hell, and somehow force my mind to remain completely in control even though my body is a traitorous bitch. Weakly, I clutch my hand around his, moving it away from my mouth while taking a small step backward. Feeling a little lightheaded, I sway and reach across for the hot tub. In doing so, my towel drops to the ground so I bend down to pick it up, but I move a little too fast. Sharp pains stab my right side and I wince.

  “What the fuck?” Blues growls, grabbing my arm gently. He lifts it and discovers a football shaped bruise running down my ribcage. I took a big boot to the side when I lost balance during my workout. That’s something he will never know about. I jerk away from him and cinch my towel tighter this time.

  “I will kill that little bastard,” he grumbles in a menacing and absolute tone.

  Blues reaches out and touches me again, placing his large hands around my forearms before sliding them up to my neck tenderly. He tilts my head back so that I’m looking directly into his eyes, now soften with concern for me. Stroking both thumbs over my jaw, he just stands here staring. The buzzing feeling his loving caress sends through my body threatens to weaken my resistance. What the hell is he thinking? Is he remembering our one night together over four months ago too? Shit. What the hell am I thinking? Having sex with him once was bad enough I cannot allow it to happen again. Ever.

  “No, Rad didn’t touch me.” Completely uncertain of his reaction to my excuse, I stare harshly and offer, “I fell.”

  “Angel,” he growls a warning, “Don’t lie to me.” Pushing away his hostility, he looks longingly at me and a shiver soars from my feet all the way up to my hair and he feels it too. I sigh at my lack of self-control when around him.

  Softly placing my fingertips over my lips before answering him, I whisper, “Please. It’s none of your business.” Stepping out of his grasp and moving to put a lounge chair between us, I tighten the towel around my body before asking, “Are you going to tell me why you are here so late?”

  He continues to stare at me, his eyes appearing to hold some amount of sympathy while battling against something else altogether, something I can’t quiet identify. Because you don’t know him. An overwhelming feeling of foreboding sinks into my chest. He shouldn’t be here and I shouldn’t want him here. I can tell that he wants to push the issue of my bruising, but thankfully he doesn’t. Between two blinks, the enchantment-spell is suddenly broken and Blues’ disturbed attitude morphs at nearly lig
ht speed to all formal.

  “I won’t keep you out here in the cold. Please have Rad call me,” he insists sharply, reaching into his breast pocket, retrieving a business card and then handing it over to me. “I have a delicate matter that requires immediate attention. Seeing that my other guys are all indisposed, I need for him to handle it.” This is it! Russ is getting bumped to transporter.

  Biting back my excitement, I close my hands around the card, careful not to make contact with any part of him, and then give him a tiny head nod. Shifting my eyes toward the patio doors leading into the house, I am weirdly apprehensive about escorting him inside and toward the front door. I’m not sure if it’s because the guy is bad news and welcoming him inside sets my nerves on edge, or if it’s the fact that we’d be all alone, away from prying eyes, and I might just take advantage of it. Don’t risk it. Apparently sensing my internal battle, Blues decides for me. He steps backward, angling his body around and facing the direction which he came.

  “I’ll let myself back out the way I entered. Good night Angel.” Without a backwards glance, he steps around the corner of the house and I release a heavy breath.

  Securing the towel around me once again, I notice that my hands are trembling. “What the hell is wrong with me?” I pick up my drink and down it.

  My body responds to Blues like he is mine. Why? I don’t want him. Yes, I needed him once, but I will never want him. In this world there is no room for secret love affairs between cops and criminals. For the first time since starting this job I actually wish Blues wouldn’t have gone to the dark side.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Are you okay honey?” Natalie asks, topping off my wine, again. I take the large goblet and gulp before answering her question. I need an extra minute since I’m still in shock and uncertain of what to say, or do.