Justice for Mickie

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Justice for Mickie Page 5

by Susan Stoker


  Cruz’s hand lifted, as if it had a mind of its own, and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. He fingered the short strands hugging her nape, thrilled when she didn’t pull away from his light touch. “I don’t think you’re a nerd, Mickie. Lots of people don’t like the bar scene. I hate it, as a matter of fact. There are too many people, the noise is too loud, and drinking to get drunk never held that much appeal for me. What made you choose psychology?”

  Mickie tried not to shiver each time Cruz’s fingers brushed against the nape of her neck. Holy hell, if just the slight touch of his fingers made her horny, she was in big trouble. The chemistry between them was off the charts. It was crazy, but felt good at the same time. “I just really enjoyed learning about what made people do the things they do, and after a while I’d taken so many psych classes it just made sense.”

  “So, you like to know what makes people tick?”

  “Yeah, but I couldn’t find a job I liked. I know I’m way too picky, but I just couldn’t see myself working as a social worker, or school counselor or something. Working at the car dealership isn’t exactly my dream job, but it’s entertaining sometimes and you’d be surprised how often I use what I learned in school.” Mickie laughed, obviously recalling some of the antics of the customers she dealt with. “What about you? What made you go into the security field?”

  Cruz took a sip of his drink and tried to figure out what to tell Mickie. He really wanted to tell her the story of how he’d decided to go into law enforcement, but he couldn’t go into as much detail as he might’ve if she knew he worked for the FBI. He’d have to tread carefully.

  “To understand why, you have to know a bit about me first. My mom passed away from heart disease when I was young. My dad remarried a couple of years later and I never really knew any mother other than Barb. We moved around a lot when they got married. We lived on the east coast for a few years, then my dad got transferred to Ohio. Then Barb took a job in southern California, so we moved again, but they quickly found out that the fast pace of life there didn’t suit them, so we moved to Maine and that’s where I finished high school.

  “They’re still there, retired and loving it. They live in a small, conservative town. Nothing much ever happens. My parents weren’t rich, but they weren’t poor either. I had everything I ever wanted as I grew up, so did most of my friends. The only real crime I had any experience with was petty theft every now and then.” Cruz chuckled. “Well, that and underage drinking.”

  The waitress interrupted his story with their food. Once she left and they’d both dug into their lunch, Cruz continued between bites.

  “My sophomore year in high school, we were in California, the only year we were there. One of my classmates’ little sister disappeared. She literally was there one day and gone the next. There was a lot of speculation about what happened to her, but I think we all knew she wasn’t going to come home. Avery seemed like a good kid. I didn’t know her, but I heard her brother talking on the news one night, begging whoever took her to bring her back. She liked singing, dancing, dogs, and had a gazillion stuffed animals. I watched the news and read the papers about her disappearance. Before too long, the stories changed from interviews with her parents and brother and news about the search parties that had been organized, to other more recent sensational stories, like murders, climate change, and of course, politics.

  “I never forgot Avery though. It was only about three weeks later when a couple hiking in the woods, nowhere near our town, found her body. A beautiful little girl, gone. To make a long story short, she’d been killed by a man who’d been kidnapping young women and kids all over the place. He’d been in our town a total of ten hours. Ten fucking hours. That’s all it took for him to ruin at least four lives. Avery’s parents divorced and her brother ended up joining the Navy.”

  “That’s tough, Cruz. What did that have to do with you getting into security?”

  Her question was a legitimate one, and Cruz tried to explain without giving anything about his career as an FBI agent away. “The police officers in our town weren’t prepared for an in-depth investigation into Avery’s disappearance. Her parents begged for help in finding their daughter, but after a token search, they said there wasn’t much more they could do because there just wasn’t any evidence. I guess stranger abductions are rare, and some of the toughest cases to solve. I saw firsthand how important it was for everyone to do something. Being involved in the search for Avery, and seeing how everyone came forward to help, really struck something in me. I know being in security isn’t like being a police officer, but even if it’s just helping little old ladies get their purses back after they’re snatched away, it makes me feel good.”

  That last part was pretty lame, but Mickie seemed to buy it.

  “That’s amazing, Cruz.”

  He merely shrugged. “The best part of the story was that I saw on social media that Avery’s brother recently found the asshole that killed his sister. He’d been hunting for him ever since he’d graduated high school. He’d apparently joined the Navy and become a SEAL and with some of his Navy SEAL buddies, they finally killed him. I never kept in touch with Sam, Avery’s brother, but I bet if I’d stayed in California and finished high school there, we would’ve been good friends.”

  “That’s an awesome story. Seriously. And you shouldn’t feel bad about what you do. I mean…I don’t know exactly what you do; I’m sure it’s not like you’re a Texas Ranger or anything, but I’m assuming you do your best to keep people safe now.”

  He let the Texas Ranger comment go, but made a mental note to tell Dax what Mickie had said…he’d get a huge kick out of it. It was obvious she hadn’t meant it as it came out. “Stopping shoplifters or patrolling for trespassers is a long way from solving serial-murder cases.”

  “Yeah, but if there weren’t people like you around, then it’d be chaos. Who knows what would be stolen or destroyed? It’d be anarchy.” She smiled. “The teenagers would have a field day. Just the other day I saw a security guard make a group of little old ladies walk the correct way around the mall. Without people like you, the world would go crazy, I tell ya.”

  Cruz smiled. She was adorable, assuming he was a security guard and trying to make him feel good about it. There were some really good men he’d worked with over the years who were in the general security field, but he’d been honest when he’d told her it was a long way from solving serious cases.

  “What’s the craziest thing you’ve seen?” Mickie asked with her chin propped on her hand and leaning on the table. He loved the way she paid complete attention to him. She didn’t seem to care about her cell phone, or what was going on around them. It was refreshing. He decided to feel her out a little bit. He knew she was worried about her sister, but he wanted to prod a bit deeper.

  “I saw a drug deal go down one day.”

  “Oh my God! Really? What’d you do?”

  “I called the cops. I followed the guy who sold the drugs, figuring he was probably more involved than the kid who bought them. Drugs. I can’t stand drug use and what it does to families and to the user. Using is an insidious thing. At first it seems harmless, it makes people feel good, makes them feel invincible. The kid who bought the drugs didn’t look like a hard-core druggie. He was probably getting it for a party or something. But drugs can easily take over a person’s life. Each time, the fall gets longer and longer and they’ll keep pushing their boundaries when it comes to what they’ll do for that high.”

  Mickie put her now-empty plate to the side and asked earnestly. “It sounds personal for you.”

  “It is. My ex-wife got mixed up in it.”

  “I’m sorry, Cruz. That sucks.”

  “Yeah.”

  His response was whispered and Mickie could hear the sorrow in his voice. She put her hand on his forearm and squeezed gently.

  Cruz sighed and put his hand over Mickie’s. He could feel the body heat emanating from her palm through his sleeve and penetrating d
irectly into his blood stream, or so it seemed. “She got hooked in high school, but I had no idea. She portrayed herself to me one way, and all the while she was prostituting herself to get money for more drugs.”

  “Wow. How long were you married?”

  “Too long. I should’ve seen it.”

  “Cruz, you loved her. At least I’m assuming you did.” Mickie waited until he nodded, then continued. “You gave her the benefit of the doubt. It’s what you do when you love someone. You make excuses for them when they do things and you forgive them when they hurt you.”

  “Like you and your sister.”

  Mickie snorted. “Yeah, like me and Angel.”

  Cruz went back to the previous subject. “My ex is still here in San Antonio. Every now and then she gets arrested for prostitution. I feel like I’m the laughingstock of all my friends. They all know about her.”

  “I’m positive your friends aren’t laughing at you, Cruz. They probably feel bad for you, but that’s way different than feeling sorry for you or laughing at you.”

  Cruz brought Mickie’s hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it. “Thank you, Mickie. I’m sorry I’m such a downer. I didn’t mean to dump all this on you on our first date.”

  Mickie laughed low in her throat. “This is one of the most interesting first dates I’ve ever had.” At Cruz’s skeptical look, she continued quickly. “Seriously. Most of the time the guy wants to talk about how great he is and how lucky I should feel to be with him.”

  “I don’t know how lucky you are, but I feel lucky as all get out that you’re sitting here with me.”

  “I’m not sure you know me well enough to feel lucky you’re here. I have my own sob story when it comes to my ex.”

  “He was an idiot.”

  Mickie laughed at his immediate and honest-sounding response. “I’ll agree with you on that one.”

  They smiled at each other. Cruz hadn’t let go of her hand since he’d kissed it and he tightened his grip on her fingers. “Seriously, Mickie. I can’t imagine what happened to make him decide not to be married to you anymore. From where I’m sitting, you’re pretty amazing.”

  “Thanks, Cruz. That means a lot.”

  “Enough that you’ll go out with me again?”

  Mickie laughed. “Probably.”

  “Just probably?”

  “Well, probably leaning heavily on the definitely side.”

  Cruz’s voice got soft and rumbly and Mickie shivered at the promise she could hear in it. “Good. I have to say, I’m looking forward to getting to know more about you, Mickie.”

  “Me too.”

  “Can I call you?”

  “Yes, I’d like that.”

  “And you’ll keep in touch in the meantime?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

  They stood from the table and Cruz helped Mickie up. He stepped back and led her out of the restaurant with his hand at the small of her back. Mickie didn’t know what it was about the gesture that made her feel cherished, but it did. Maybe it was because Troy had never really touched her outside of the times they were in bed, but Cruz’s hand against her felt wonderful.

  They walked side by side down the sidewalk next to the water until they got to a staircase that led up to the street.

  “This is me. I’m parked down the street up there,” Mickie said.

  “I’ll walk you all the way to your car.”

  “Really, Cruz, it’s fine, I can—”

  “I’ll walk you all the way to your car,” Cruz repeated, his voice unrelenting.

  Mickie looked up at his face and saw he was serious. “Fine, but it’s really not necessary, it’s the middle of the day.”

  “It’s necessary to me.”

  Mickie smiled and simply nodded, giving in gracefully. They continued up the stairs and down a street until they got to a small public parking lot, where Mickie had left her car.

  Stopping at the driver’s side door, Cruz turned to Mickie. He took both her hands in his and brought each one up to his mouth. He kissed the back of her left and turned her right hand over and kissed the palm. “I’ve had a good time. Thank you for coming, Mickie.”

  “Me too. I’ll text you and we can talk more this week. Okay?” Mickie didn’t step away from Cruz, liking the feeling of her hands in his.

  “That sounds great.” Cruz leaned toward Mickie slowly, giving her time to move back. When she didn’t, he briefly touched his lips to hers. He wanted to linger and savor their first kiss, but he didn’t. He drew back and squeezed her hands once more before letting go. “Go on and get in. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Bye, Cruz.” Mickie opened her door and Cruz shut it behind her. She started the engine and turned to see Cruz was still standing near her car. She gave a small wave as she prepared to head out. He gave her a chin lift in return. Mickie pulled out of the space and headed toward the exit of the lot. She looked back once and saw Cruz headed down the street, back in the direction of the River Walk.

  It’d been an interesting date. Intense at times, but she’d enjoyed being with Cruz and being the focus of his attention. She definitely hoped he’d call.

  Chapter Five

  “Oh yeah, take that ass. Give it to her.”

  Cruz threw back the last of the beer in the bottle he was holding and tried to ignore the actions going on behind him. It’d been five days since his date with Mickie and he’d never felt so unclean…maybe except for the time he’d gone to his doctor to be checked for any sexually transmitted diseases after learning the truth about Sophie.

  This shit had to end. He had to figure out where and from whom Ransom was getting his drugs, see if he couldn’t shut down the Red Brothers and get the hell out before he became a person he couldn’t live with anymore.

  Cruz was sitting around a table with Ransom, Tick, and two other prospects. Ransom was going over the prospects’ new assignments. Every other day they were tasked with some sort of bullshit job, to prove their loyalty to Ransom and the MC.

  It was ten in the morning, and behind them were three of the other members of the club and a girl who Cruz hadn’t seen around before, but who couldn’t have been more than twenty years old. Bubba had her bent over a table while Dirt and Camel cheered him on. They’d each had their shot already, and Cruz knew whoever walked into the room next would most likely take his turn as well.

  Almost all of the men in the club were large, either tall and muscular, or overweight, and able to protect themselves and their president. The club whores were probably pretty at one point, but over time, through lack of proper diet, drug use and the abuse they took at the hands of the club members, they’d morphed into shells of the women they used to be. Most were average height, some were almost certainly underage, and because of the drug use, none carried much extra weight on their bodies. It made Cruz’s stomach seize to watch as the MC members took their turns with them. Seeing the women helpless underneath the large, unrelenting bodies of the men fucking them was something Cruz knew he’d never forget.

  This morning, Bubba and the others had tied the woman’s ankles to the table legs, about three feet apart, and her wrists were bound with some sort of cord behind her back. They’d stuffed a ball gag in her mouth and Cruz had seen the drool pooling under her. She wasn’t struggling at all, however, merely lying limp on the table as each of the men fucked her.

  The woman’s eyes were vacant. She was out of her head with drugs and most likely didn’t even realize what was going on, or if she did, she didn’t care, only waiting until the men were done so she could get paid in more drugs. None of the men wore a condom, and Camel and Dirt had ejaculated all over the woman’s back and hands when they’d orgasmed.

  The entire scene was disgusting and obscene, and Cruz couldn’t help but see in his mind first Sophie, and then Angel, lying across the table instead of the drugged-out woman.

  “Got that, Smoke?”

  Shit. “Sorry, what?” />
  Ransom laughed heartily. “You’re a bit distracted this morning, Smoke. You’re wishing you could join in, aren’t you? Well, too fucking bad. You know prospects don’t get to fuck. Club pussy is only for the Hermanos Rojos.”

  Cruz tried to look suitably chastised. “Sorry, Pres.”

  “Now, fucking pay attention. I don’t like to repeat myself. Today you assholes are gonna take Angel out and sweet-talk her and her bitch friends. I gotta move this shit along. She’s annoying as fuck and this needs to happen sooner rather than later. I promised my supplier this new market would be hot. It’s taking too fucking long.”

  Thankfully, Tiny, another prospect, asked what was on Cruz’s mind. “How will being nice to this bitch move things along?”

  Ransom’s fist came across the table and landed in Tiny’s face almost before Cruz even saw him strike. Tiny, ironically named because he weighed at least three hundred pounds, didn’t really move with the force of Ransom’s fist. His head went back, but that was about all that budged.

  “What was that for?” he whined, holding his palm to his face.

  “Because you don’t ever fucking question me, prospect. ‘Loyalty to One.’ And I’m the fucking ‘one.’ If I tell you to take a shit in the middle of the River Walk, you’ll do it without fucking asking why or whining about it. That’s how this works. Once you prove you’re loyal to me, and only fucking me—and part of that loyalty means you don’t question me—then maybe I’ll consider patching you in. Until then, you do what the hell I say, whenever the hell I say it. And today, the three of you are gonna pick up Angel, take her to Smoke’s fucking mall to meet her rich-bitch friends, and you’re going to show them how gentlemanly you can be. As a parting gift, you’ll give Angel some joints and encourage her to share with her friends.”

 

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