Bend ~ Molly McLain

by McLain, Molly

  “That’s because you don’t know any better.” His dark eyes narrow. “Suck me, fuck me. That’s your motto, right? Have you ever even spent the night with a woman? You know, without skipping out at two in the morning with your tail between your legs?”

  “This guy,” I laugh, looking at Dez. “Give him a little shit and he festers right up.”

  “You just wait.” Will’s scowl morphs into a smug grin. “One of these days, some pretty little thing is gonna knock your cocky ass right to the ground.”

  Fat fucking chance. I know better than to get roped into that shit. Unlike him.

  “Whatever.” I wave him off and grab my towel. “You two have fun planning for your prissy little dance this weekend. I’m gonna go clean up the streets.”

  I don’t wait for either of them to come back with another jab. Why? I don’t live my life around other people. I do me before anyone else, aside from when I’m wearing my badge. Maybe it makes me an asshole, but that’s how I roll. Take it or leave it.

  Two weeks into the month and we’re already down almost two grand in missing inventory. That’s more than all of last quarter combined, and if I don’t come up with some kind of explanation, headquarters is going to have my butt in a sling.

  Pushing aside the figures, I grab my phone. Ben or my dad directly? Both feel like I’d be giving away a little piece of my soul and, right now, with Chloe’s bottom line slowly dying, I need to preserve all the humility I can.

  “Ugh, this sucks,” I groan to myself, thumbing the phone on and scrolling to my contacts. Not to mention, if I call Dad, he’s going to want an answer about the ball. It isn’t that I mind going with him—I love spending time with him—it’s just the company he keeps.

  Trent Clark, case in point.

  My thumb hovers over Ben’s name for a solid thirty seconds before I click on it and cringe the entire time the phone rings in my ear.

  “Never thought I’d see your name on my caller ID again,” that familiar male voice sneers in the phone by way of greeting.

  I pinch my eyes shut and take a deep breath. I never thought he’d actually answer. “Hey, Ben. How are you?”

  “Pretty shitty according to you, but maybe you’ve forgotten.”

  Ugh. I’m such a horrible person. “Ben, you know I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “Eh.” He sighs through the phone. “Doesn’t really matter now, does it? You’ve moved on, I’ve moved on . . .”

  He has?

  “You knew that though, right? I assume that’s why you’re calling.”

  Um . . .”Actually, no.”

  His laugh is low and smarmy. Kind of slimy, if I’m honest.

  “Tally didn’t tell you?”

  Tally? How could he possibly know I’m calling about her?

  “I’ve been seeing her for a month now,” he goes on. “Gotta tell ya, Kins—she hasn’t complained once about the way I fuck.”

  Oh. My. God. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  He laughs again. “You know, maybe you being a greedy, stuck up bitch actually worked to my advantage. Not only did you walk, but you opened my eyes to—”

  Click. I end the call and drop the phone onto my desk.

  You are not an awful person, Kinsey. You only told him the truth. A truth you thought he could handle, six months into your relationship. Your comfortable, albeit less than orgasmic, relationship.

  And now he’s screwing Tally. Could this possibly be any more messed up?

  “Knock, knock . . .” Jana ducks her head into my office with a big, goofy grin on her face. “Thought you should know that there’s a big, beefy cop at the register asking to speak with you.”

  “My dad?”

  Jana’s face sours like I just force-fed her cat food. “Oh, my God, no. Eww.”

  “Eww?” Clearly the conversation with Ben has screwed up my ability to comprehend.

  “I was just going to ask if he’s the one who’s packing in the pants, but now you’ve ruined my fantasy. And made me a little queasy, too.”

  “Trent is here?” I push to my feet in a rush. No one can know I’m talking to the police about the missing stock. “Um . . .” Think, Kinsey, think. “Do I, uh, look okay?” I ask, patting at my hair, and going with the first thing that comes to mind: Pretend that Trent Clark isn’t here on official police business.

  Jana’s eyes brighten once again. “You look freakin’ amazing.” Then she squeals. “See, I knew this would happen.”

  “You knew what would happen?” I ask dumbly. Again, the brain just isn’t functioning like it should be apparently. Freaking Ben.

  “You and the hot cop. Now I get why he kept pulling you over!”

  Oh, no. No, no, no. There isn’t a single spark between Sergeant Hardass and me. You know, other than he’s sexy as crap. But that’s just bad boy fantasy stuff. In real life, I can’t stand him.

  “Can you send him back here, please?” I ask, feigning what I hope looks like a nervous, girly smile.

  Jana nods eagerly, then disappears, leaving me to absolutely panic. Tally isn’t working today, right? And other than Jana, I have Samantha on the floor. Between the two of them, the entire Mile will think I’m banging a Metro cop by the time he actually leaves. Um . . . okay. It’s only marginally better than the truth, but a little better is better than no better.

  “Thanks, Jana,” Trent’s low chuckle carries down the hall a second before he appears in my doorway with a shit-eating grin on his face. He meets my eye, then not-so-discreetly glances back down the hall. Presumably at my best employee’s ass.

  “You’re such a pig,” I sneer, hurrying around the desk to close the door behind him. “And what the hell are you doing here, anyway?”

  “I have an interview to finish,” he says casually, making his way to a poster on my wall. The new fall line displayed on Chloe’s top models. I find it motivational, though I’m sure his interest is much less refined.

  “I told you yesterday that I was no longer interested in speaking with you,” I say firmly, trying to keep my eyes above his shoulders, which makes me no better than him at the moment, but he doesn’t need to know that.

  “Doesn’t work that way, princess. If you call the police with an issue, it’s my job to, at the very least, gather information about your concern.”

  “You can’t just report that I changed my mind?”

  “I could, but then it’s kind of like that little boy who cried wolf, you know?” He moves from the poster to a picture of me and Dad in Florida a couple years ago. The summer we spread Mom’s ashes in the ocean. “It also looks bad for me if I can’t provide a more detailed report, but let’s not make this about me, huh?” He flashes a bright grin, followed by a wink that sends shivers down my spine.

  “How have you kept your job as long as you have?”

  “Come on now, Kins. Just because my work ethic challenges your prudish take on life doesn’t mean you have to hate me.”

  Did he just call me a prude? Seriously?

  I swallow down a snappish response and lift my chin. Get him out of here as fast as possible. Don’t egg him on. “Let’s make this quick, shall we? I don’t need you hanging around, drawing attention.”

  He shrugs and drops his big body into the chair across from mine. With his legs spread wide in those slightly snug black slacks, it’s harder than ever to keep my gaze on his. And from the sparkle in his eyes, he knows it.

  “So, you said something about theft yesterday?”

  I nod and reclaim my seat. “The inventory doesn’t match the sales. Now, we account for a certain amount of petty theft, especially since stealing personal garments can be so easy. But this damage is more significant.” I slide my loss spreadsheet over to him, but he barely glances at it.

  “Do you have any unusually regular customers? Someone who might be slowly swiping shit from under your nose?”

  I bite my lip. “I guess I didn’t think of that.”

  “An employee, maybe?”
>
  I nod. “There’s a girl named Tally who closes a lot. I have no concrete reason to think it’s her other than my gut.”

  “You have cameras installed?”

  My face goes warm. “Yes, but they’re . . . not currently working.”

  “Seriously, Kins? You’re the captain’s kid and you don’t abide by retail rule number one?”

  “They went down in a storm a few months back and I just . . . never got around to fixing them.” I’d been more concerned about the break-up with Ben. Sue me.

  He shakes his head and sighs. “So why do you think it’s her?”

  “Because the daily numbers match up when she doesn’t close, and they’re only off when she’s here. Also, the mall’s main surveillance shows her coming and going from the store after she’s closed up.”

  “Get your cameras fixed. It’s as easy as that.”

  Except it’s not. “That might take a bit.”

  He frowns. “Then I’m not sure what you want me to do here . . .”

  “I know!” I push a hand through my hair. “It’s just . . .” Ugh. “Look, I want to get the cameras fixed, but the mall’s maintenance manager isn’t exactly my biggest fan.”

  Trent blinks at me. “What, did you tell him to fuck off, too?”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  “Maybe if you were nicer to people—”

  “He’s my ex, okay?”

  A crooked grin kicks up one corner of the smug cop’s mouth. “Well, that explains it then.”

  “Can we get back to the issue at hand, please?” God, this man . . .

  “Fixing your cameras is part of the issue. Shouldn’t security take care of that?”

  I give a heavy sigh. “Yes, but the problem isn’t the cameras themselves—it’s something with the wiring, which is a maintenance issue. But, that aside, isn’t there something else that can be done?”

  “You could catch her red-handed.”

  “Oh, sure.” I roll my eyes. “And then what?”

  “Uh, call the cops?”

  Obviously, he’s never met Tally, whose biggest inspiration in life happens to be Rhonda Rousey.

  I shuffle the papers around on my desk anxiously, and then mutter, “My luck they’d send you over.”

  Trent leans forward, one eyebrow cocked. “What was that, princess?”

  “Nothing. Look . . .” I hate this whole situation. Especially feeling like I’m backed into a corner, not just by Ben, but by a cop who doesn’t take me seriously. Unfortunately, Hardass is my best option right now. “I have an idea.”

  He flashes that megawatt grin again. “I’m listening.”

  “DID YOU PICK UP YOUR dress blues from the cleaners yet, Sergeant Clark?”

  I glance up from the endless stack of paperwork on my desk to see the captain looming above me, his arms crossed over his broad, barrel chest.

  “No, sir. Sorry to say that I can’t make the ball this weekend. Death in the family.” Pretty sure it’s the same line I used last year, but I doubt the old man remembers.

  “You don’t say? I sure hope it wasn’t your grandmother again. Poor woman’s died three times in the past five years.”

  Well, hell. I flash my best grin. “You got me, Captain. Truth is there really isn’t a funeral. I’m actually driving out to Cali for my cousin’s wedding. I didn’t want to say anything . . .” I lean forward and speak in a low—but not quiet—voice, “because he’s marrying Sergeant Smith’s ex.”

  Dez’s head snaps up from the desk beside mine, a pinched what the fuck expression on his face.

  “Oh, really?” the captain chuckles. “If you’d put half as much energy into your paperwork as you do coming up with these bullshit excuses, you’d be off patrol by now. Maybe even looking at Investigations, seeing as there’s an opening coming up.”

  No shit? “Who’s leaving?”

  “Afraid that’s privileged information, Sergeant. It’s possible an announcement will be made at the ball. Not that you’ll be there to hear it.” He winks and Dez laughs.

  I’d have to be twelve-years-old or three sheets to the wind to buy into that ploy. “Huh. Shame about that.”

  The captain’s eyes narrow for a moment, before he turns to Dez. “How about you and Vaccaro?”

  “Wouldn’t miss the ball for the world, sir.” Dez gives a thumbs-up, but we all know the captain’s not really asking about him, anyway. “And Will’s so excited, he can’t stop talking about it.”

  Captain Malloy’s grin all but splits his ruddy face in half. “That’s what I like to hear. Men who respect this job as much as I do.” With that, he swings a pointed glare back to me, then walks away.

  Dez starts cackling like a goddamn hen as soon as Malloy hits his office. “Poor fucking Will. Dude doesn’t stand a chance.”

  Poor Will is right. Captain isn’t going to give up until he gets what he wants, and that’s his baby girl paired up with a man just like him. Someone who respects this job, which apparently isn’t me, all because I refuse to dress up in a monkey suit and suck ass all night long. Pay no mind to the fact that I’m a damn good cop or that I have more motivation and initiative than ninety-five percent of the guys who work Metro. Many of whom are currently sitting around, shooting the shit and slurping coffee, rather than doing any actual work. Not that Malloy gives a shit about that.

  “Kinsey’s a hot little thing, though.” Dez leans back in his chair, still grinning. “She’s probably got a closet full of that sexy lingerie she sells, too.”

  Yeah, but does she have anything more than a smokin’ body to go with it? A woman can dress up in lace and garters all day long, but if she doesn’t have the attitude to back it up, the effort is lost. Kinsey’s got a bark, I’ll give her that much, but my guess is that’s all she’s got.

  “Don’t let Will hear you talk about his woman like that,” I joke—loudly—as the man himself strolls into the office in ripped up jeans, a wife-beater, and a flat-billed cap. He’s working today, so he must be trying to blend in. Probably running undercover in a drug case. Or, if he’s lucky, hookers.

  Will flashes a toothy grin and drops a plastic bag on my desk. From the scant amount of fabric and lace and my expertise in the area of feminine delicacies, I’m guessing it’s a thong.

  “Look familiar?” He leans forward, palms on my desk.

  “Shit, man, I’m sorry. I’ll have your mom be more careful next time she’s over.”

  Dez roars with laughter, and Will continues to smirk. “Funny, smart ass. At first I thought they were your cousin Stacy’s, but then I remembered—she doesn’t wear panties.”

  My sarcastic expression fades and I give the desk a shove. Not hard enough to knock anything over, but enough to let him know I think he’s a fucker. Have since the night he took my favorite cousin’s virginity, nine years ago.

  “Found these in the hotel room yesterday, under the vic.” He continues to glare at me, like he’s expecting something. I have no idea what.

  “Look, man, I know I’m a panty whisperer and all, but I can’t tell you anything about these.”

  “Look closer, fuckwad.”

  “No thanks.”

  He rolls his eyes. “They’re from Chloe’s. Along with a bag full of similar shit we found stuffed in the closet.”

  I snort. “So maybe your dead guy had a fetish.”

  “Or maybe he knew a little something about merchandise disappearing. You know, the case you’re working?”

  Dez slides his chair over, eyebrow cocked. “What case?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I snarl, before glancing back to Will. “Pretty big stretch, thinking your dead guy is in any way related to Kinsey’s situation.”

  “Kinsey?” Dez again. “The captain’s Kinsey?”

  We both ignore him, and then Will finally cuts to the chase. “Since you’re such an inquisitive guy, sure, I’ll tell you what else we found.” Grabbing a chair, he spins it around and straddles it in front of my desk. “The shit in the closet st
ill had tags. One of those waist shaping things had a security sensor, too.”

  “Corset,” Dez corrects, and this time, Will and I both turn and glare. “What?” Our friend smirks. “Just because I look sweet and innocent, doesn’t mean I am.”

  “Ain’t a damn thing innocent about your ass,” I mutter before giving the plastic bag a closer look. The thong’s an extra large and, Jesus fuck, there’s something white and crusty on the front panel.

  “Disgusting when you don’t have a name to go with the jizz, isn’t it?” Will makes a face and I shrug.

  “Could be the vic’s.”

  “On that note, I’m out.” Dez shudders and wheels himself back to his desk.

  “We’ll know for sure when the labs come back,” Will replies. “In the meantime, I thought you might want to know about the panty stash. Just in case it ends up being tied into your case.”

  My case. Like the scrap job he tossed me is anything like he does on a daily basis.

  “Hey, you hear anything about someone leaving Investigation?” I ask, keeping my voice down in case the captain decides to grace us with his presence again.

  Will shakes his head. “Not a thing. Why?”

  “Captain dangled the golden carrot in front of him before you came in,” Dez speaks up, and Will throws his head back and laughs.

  “Fucking glad I missed that!”

  I throw the panties at his face and grab my coffee cup. Friggin’ empty. “Don’t you have someplace to be?” I grumble. Will does these little drop-ins for the sole purpose of pissing me off, I’m sure of it. He has the job I want and he rubs it in every chance he gets.

  “Actually, I’ve gotta drop my blues off at the cleaner before I go under for the night, so yeah, I do.”

  I manage to keep my reaction at a grin, but Dez fails miserably at holding back a howl of laughter. “Such a suck ass!”

  Will’s face turns the same annoyed shade of red it always does when someone hints about him crawling up the captain’s ass. Or Kinsey’s ass. “Fuck the both of you,” he snaps, getting to his feet, the red panties in hand. He shoots me a glare as he twirls the chair back into place in front of my desk. “Do me a favor and actually try on Kinsey’s case, huh? It’s my ass on the line if you screw it up.”