The Distance Between Us (Mac Security Series Book 3)

by Abigail Davies

  I lean against the kitchen counter, wincing at the bangs coming out of the other room. I have no doubt that she’s angry, she’s a fiery one, something I’m not used to and sometimes I don’t know how to react to her.

  She comes back into the kitchen, placing something down gently on the counter. “She’s gone, Charlie.” And with that she walks out of my house, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

  My eyes move to the picture she placed down and guilt overtakes me.

  I shouldn’t be doing this with Kitty.

  A knock on my office door brings me back to the here and now. “One sec.”

  I lift up off the chair, walking over to the sofa along the back wall in my office and gently setting Kitty down before covering her with one of my jackets.

  So much has happened since that day, so much time has passed and things are different now.

  “Sarge?” Kurt’s voice comes through the door and I pull it open.

  “Yeah?”

  “Call just came in.”

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” I tell him, shutting the door and looking back at Kitty.

  Things from here on out are changing, I’m ready to be with her, all of her, but if I’m honest, I’m scared. I’m scared of losing her, I’m scared of getting in too deep, but most of all I’m scared to love her. Letting myself go there again is a big deal and I need to know that I’m ready because I’m either all in or all out, and deciding which one I am doesn’t come easy.

  I shake my head and pull the door open, raising a brow at Kurt, silently asking him to fill me in.

  “Car found torched out by Wayward.”

  “Let’s go,” I tell him, grabbing my jacket and heading out of the precinct.

  By the time we get there, Sanchez and Leroy are already there, and Jane and Derrick are on their way.

  “Looks like the guy was already dead before the fire started,” Lieutenant Durk tells me as he pulls his fire helmet off his head, wiping his forehead with his arm and huffing out a breath. “There’s no evidence that he tried to escape, and if he was alive, he would have fought like hell to get out of there.”

  “Thanks,” I say, stepping toward the torched car. All that’s left of the body are bones and burnt skin. The smell almost makes me gag but I hold it in, needing to assess the crime scene.

  “What are forensics saying?” I ask Leroy as he walks over to me.

  “Four gunshot wounds found so far, one between the eyes that for sure was the kill shot.”

  I widen my stance, looking out at the scene. A fire truck packed with firefighters is getting ready to leave, tape cornering off the car and detectives along with uniformed officers gathering any evidence around the scene.

  “We need to know who this is, get forensics to get it back to the lab asap.”

  I turn and walk away, heading back to my car. Things like this are happening more and more lately and I can feel something swirling in the air. My gut tells me something big is about to happen, and my gut is never wrong.

  “Sarge?” Jane calls as I go to get into my car. “Shooting has just been reported two blocks east.”

  I jump in my car and speed out of there, Jane and Derrick on my tail. My foot goes to the floor on the gas pedal as I speed a couple blocks over, running stop signs to get there faster. My foot slams onto the brake pedal as I spot a body in the middle of the road and I manage to come to a halt a few feet away from her. I push my door open, jumping out and running to the person.

  Her face comes into view and for a second I lose my breath, she can’t be more than sixteen.

  My eyes scan her and zone in on the blood flowing out of her abdomen. My instincts kick in and I go down to my knees, pressing my hands against the wound, trying to stem the bleeding.

  “Get an EMT!” I shout to Jane and Derrick as they pull up.

  The girl tries to say something to me but it comes out a gurgling mess so I lower my head, asking, “What was that?”

  “My… brother,” she croaks. “Where’s my brother?”

  I look up at Jane as she comes closer and crouches down to the girl.

  “What’s your name, sweetheart?” she asks.

  “Fe-Fe-Felicity.”

  “Okay, Felicity. Help is on its way.”

  She turns her head to me, the light in her eyes slowly disappearing. I can feel her life dissipating into nothing and my gut churns. It’s not fair for someone this young to die. She should have lived another sixty years or more, growing old, getting married, carrying a baby, being a mother, a grandmother. She shouldn’t have been shot and left to die in the middle of a dirty road.

  “Stay with me,” I tell her, pressing harder on her stomach and swallowing past the lump building in my throat.

  “My brother, Brandon, he… he…”

  Her chest lifts on a breath and I wait for it to rise and fall again, but it doesn’t. Her body stills, her eyes open and lifeless.

  “Felicity? Felicity!”

  The sirens of the ambulance blare in the background but I can’t move my eyes from her face. I should have gotten here sooner, I should have done more. This isn’t right, someone this young shouldn’t be dying on the streets. This is my fault for not keeping the streets safe, it’s my job to do that and I’m failing.

  “Sarge?” I ignore Jane as she tries to get my attention, I ignore the EMTs as they kneel down next to me, checking her vitals. I want to scream that there’s no point in them checking because she’s dead. There’s nothing they can do to bring her back.

  My hands lift from her stomach as they prepare to put her on the gurney and I stare down at them. The red blood coating them flowing to my fingertips and dripping down to the road. I watch the drips, each one making me that much more angry. I’m gonna find who did this and make sure they’re put behind bars for a very long fucking time.

  I move my head, the hardness of whatever I’m lying on causing an ache in my neck. My head feels fuzzy and it takes all of my strength to lift it to see where I am. I crack my eyes open, bringing my hand up to my face and wiping the sleep away from them.

  The streetlight shining through the window has my heart rate spiking and my body shooting up from the position that I’m in. Where the hell am I?

  “Kitty?”

  I gasp and spin around, my eyes connecting with Charlie’s as he sits behind his desk, a glass of what looks like whiskey in his hand.

  “Charlie?” I grab onto the edge of the sofa to center myself, taking a calming breath. “What happened?”

  His face is a blank canvas, not one emotion showing and it’s when he looks like this that scares me the most. I can never get a read on him, never know what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling.

  I pull the jacket that lays over my legs up and around my shoulders, warding off the chill in the room. Although I don’t know if the chill is in the room or if I’m imagining it because of Charlie’s vibe.

  “Why did you come here?” he asks, bringing his glass to his lips and taking a sip, his eyes not leaving mine.

  “What?”

  He huffs out a breath and places his glass down, running his finger around the rim. “Why did you come here?”

  “I…” I bite my lip, wondering if I should tell him what’s going on in my mind. “I don’t want to be at the compound right now, it’s just… too much.”

  He tilts his head to the side; the only indication I get that he’s heard me.

  My leg starts to bob up and down involuntarily as I wait for an answer, although I don’t really know what to expect. It’s not like we’re together. We just fuck, he made that clear a long time ago. Why did I even come here?

  “I should go.” I stand up, leaving the jacket on the sofa and walking to the door. The ten steps there feels like a hundred and as soon as my hand is on the doorknob, he calls out.

  “Stay.”

  I take a deep breath, my brows pulling down into a frown. The squeak of his chair has my breath stuttering and then I hear his footsteps ge
t closer, but I don’t move, I wait, uncertain what is really happening here. Hell, I don’t even know what’s going on in my own mind right now.

  “Stay with me,” he whispers.

  His hand rubs up my back and over my shoulder then down my good arm and to the hand that rests on the doorknob.

  “Are you sure?” I whisper back, afraid to talk too loud.

  “Yeah.” He moves even closer, his front to my back and wraps his arms around me, burying his face into my neck and kissing the space between where it meets my shoulder.

  I close my eyes, leaning back against him and basking in the feel of being wrapped in him. I’ve only ever felt safe while I’m in his arms. No one else has ever made me feel like this and it’s why I stay, even if it means I only get a part of him and not all of him, because having that small part is better than nothing.

  “Okay,” I say, turning in his arms.

  He smiles and it changes his whole face. That smile has become my whole world over the last few years.

  I lift up onto my tiptoes and press my lips against his softly. He pulls me closer, deepening the kiss and running his tongue over my lips before I open my mouth, giving him access to all of me. He swipes his tongue against mine and grips my waist harder, but it ends all too soon and he’s pulling away, grabbing his keys off his desk and pulling me through the door before I know what’s happening.

  We walk through the precinct and past the woman at the desk who wouldn’t let me in earlier, I don’t miss the sneer on her face as we walk by hand in hand, but I don’t let it bother me. He helps me into his SUV, jogs around to his side and jumps in, reversing out of the lot and taking my hand in his as he drives.

  I can’t help but watch him as he maneuvers the car. There’s something so sexy about the way that he grips the wheel with one hand as he leans his elbow against the door, his other hand gripping mine. The way his legs move as he presses on the pedals, his thighs tensing and untensing.

  My teeth bite into my bottom lip at the thoughts running through my head. It’s been awhile since we had sex and I’m definitely needing it again. I’m not some sex fiend, but holy mother of God, he’s sex personified and he doesn’t even try to be sexy. It’s just how he is.

  The streetlights illuminate his face as we drive past them, giving him a look of darkness, of terror that I’ve never seen before. Something has happened today, something that has affected him and my mouth opens to ask him what’s wrong but closes again, my mind catching up and thinking better of it.

  Working for Ty at MAC Security means that I’ve seen a lot of evil. I’ve witnessed people get tortured, shot, hurt, raped. I’ve seen so much, but I know that what we try to do at MAC is good; we try to catch the bad guys that the cops can’t because the case is inactive, or they can’t get the evidence they need to get a conviction. It doesn’t mean they can’t get it, just that they can’t get it in the right way, the legal way.

  The itch to get back to work is there, I want to get back to helping people, to getting people off the streets that no-one else can. I just need my arm to fully heal so I can get back to doing what I do best, so that I can stop taking the pills.

  I’m good at what I do, I know that.

  I was brought up to be arm candy, to be someone’s wife, to help someone achieve their political goals, but I never wanted to be that. I wanted to be my own person. I wanted to help people, I wanted to be somebody. I became that, but since I’ve been shot I can feel it slowly dwindling away. I’m becoming somebody else, someone who I said I’d never be, but I can’t see a way out.

  “You hungry?”

  I blink at Charlie, my brain taking a while to register what he just said. “Yeah, I could eat.”

  “Good.” He winks, pulling into Wendy’s and jumping out of the car.

  I watch as he walks inside, my eyes not moving from him.

  The roar of an engine gains my attention and my head whips around, seeing the tail end of a car and my pulse skyrockets. That was Jonny I’m almost sure of it, I wouldn’t forget his car, it’s one of a kind.

  With everything else going on I completely forgot about Jonny, he knows who I am now and what I was doing when I was undercover. Even though he was a job, I spent a lot of time with him and he made sure I was protected. He became a friend and I can’t help the guilt that claws its way up my throat at not being honest with him about everything.

  “Ahh!” I screech as the door opens and my hand flies to my chest.

  “It’s just me, Kitty Kat.”

  “Sorry,” I breathe out. “Was stuck inside my own head.”

  He chuckles at me and hands me the food, the warmth warming my legs to the point where it feels like it’s burning them. I place it down onto the floor and lean back as Charlie pulls out of the lot. I’m on edge and the bottle of pills in my pocket is the only thing that’s making me feel any kind of relief.

  “You okay?” Charlie asks when he stops at a red light.

  “My arm is hurting, I need to take my painkillers.”

  He leans over and hands me one of the drinks that he placed in the holder. “Take some.”

  I smile and pull the pills out, taking the drink from him and swallowing two. When he turns away and starts to drive again I pop out another two and swallow them down as well.

  I stick the photo of Felicity—the girl who was shot—on the whiteboard and take a couple of steps back, leaning against one of the desks. I twist the top on the whiteboard pen back and forth, back and forth as I stare at it. Her eyes are bright and full of life, so much potential there and now it’s gone.

  The sound of footsteps behind me alerts me to all of the guys coming in and I stand up, walking back to the whiteboard and crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Felicity Jacobs,” I say, writing her name above her photo. “I want a complete profile on this girl. Her family, her friends, where she went, what she did. I want to know everything and anything about her.”

  I turn around and face them all, narrowing my eyes and throwing the pen down on the desk next to me.

  “Jane, find out who her brother is, the one she was asking about.”

  “On it, Sarge.”

  I cross my arms over my chest, bowing my head and taking a deep, calming breath but I find it hard to not see her lying there, her eyes still open as the life had vacated them. I can still feel her blood on my hands, I can still hear her voice clearly.

  “Sarge? The forensics came back on the burnt car.”

  I look up at Kurt, waiting for him to say who it is. He pulls a photo out of the printer tray and walks to the board, placing it next to Felicity and saying, “Brandon Jacobs…” He pauses, his eyes meeting mine before he says, “Felicity’s brother.”

  The air stills in the pit, not one person says a word and all we can hear is the squeak of the pen as Kurt writes his name on the board. My chest heaves; I can only come to the conclusion that their deaths are connected, there’s no way that it’s a coincidence.

  “Find out all known associates, interview the parents, school friends, find me something to go on!” I storm out of the pit and into my office, slamming the door behind me causing the blinds on the window to rattle.

  I’ve seen things that people never want to see while working for the police force. They haunt me at night. The bloody bodies, the beaten women who won’t press charges against their husbands. Women who have murdered and got away with it, children who have been left abandoned.

  I’ve been shot at more times than I can count, but luckily, I’ve never had a bullet puncture my skin. I’ve had my nose broken countless times and I’ve given chase to suspects more times than I’ve eaten, but it’s all worth it when the guilty are behind bars.

  A knock at my door gains my attention and I look up in time to see Leroy opening it. “Me and Sanchez are gonna head out to the school.”

  “Keep me informed,” I tell him.

  He taps on the doorframe twice, tilts his head in acknowledgement and leaves.

&n
bsp; Scraping my hands down my face I take a deep breath and log into my computer. Several windows pop up that I didn’t close down yesterday and I huff at myself. I always forget to close the damn thing down properly.

  I go to close them down but stop at the file that’s still open with Jonny’s photo on it. Scrolling through I try to see something on him, not caring that I get engrossed in all of the information. However much this case is taking up my time, I’m still determined to get something on Jonny. Kitty has asked me repeatedly to leave it alone, to forget about it, but I can’t. I feel helpless and the longer he’s out there the more my fingers itch to find something on him.

  The obnoxious ringing of my cell echoes off the walls and I pick it up, pressing the answer button when I see Leroy’s name.

  “Mackenzie.”

  “Sarge? You’re gonna want to come down here,” Leroy says.

  I frown at the screen on my computer, have I really been searching for something on Jonny for the last hour? It feels like minutes ago Leroy was leaving to go to the school.

  “On my way,” I tell him, making sure I close down all the windows this time.

  I head straight to the school where Leroy and Sanchez are and park next to where they stand outside the main doors with a woman dressed in drab clothes.

  “This is the principal,” Leroy says in greeting. “Could you tell Sergeant Mackenzie what you told me?”

  “S-sure,” she stammers and pushes the glasses she wears up her nose. “Felicity and Brandon are… were twins, they were in foster care. Last time I heard they were over at Wayward.”

  My pulse spikes at the mention of Wayward, the place where all the criminal activity seems to start and end.

  Leroy nods his head at her, silently encouraging her to continue.

  “Felicity came to me last week, asking for help. She said there was something bad happening in her foster home. I told her I’d help, that I’d get in touch with their social worker.”

  “And did you?” I ask, widening my stance and crossing my arms over my chest.

  “I called her and left her a message, asking for her to meet with me but she never got back to me, and neither Felicity nor Brandon came back into school after that.”