by Amy Faye
He hands the baby over to Anna. Her arms wrap around Ava. It's really her. It's really Ava. Beautiful girl. Pretty girl. Ava smiles at her mother. Anna can't stop grinning, can't stop looking at her little girl.
She doesn't notice what's going on until she hears Mr. Queen grunt hard. That brings her eyes up, even as she steps back to keep the baby away from harm.
The big guy has a fist embedded in Mr. Queen's gut. The kidnapper squats down and bends the old man over his shoulder, and then stands up underneath him, and the former mayor—currently looking good to win a congressional seat from the incumbent—goes with him.
"Go on, get out of here," the guy says. The strain of carrying changes his voice a little. Squeezed and nasal. She'd almost say it sounded fake. But none of that matters, not really.
They'll figure out what happened to Mr. Queen, in the end. But right now, she's got her daughter back, and that's all that Anna is worried about.
It's not fair to Mitch, not to care about his father. It's definitely not fair to the old man, who never said a sour word to her. But that doesn't change how she feels about it.
She hefts the girl in her arms a little, bringing her higher up. Right by her face. She leans down to press a kiss into the baby's forehead, and then turns to start back. They'll want to know all about what happened, when she gets back.
So if she wants to spend as much time as possible with the baby girl, then she'll have to take her time now. She squeezes a little tighter. Her head's a little light from the sheer thought of what's happened the past few days.
She has her daughter back, though. No way are they going to have even as much trouble getting Mr. Queen back as they did with Ava. Because there's nobody in the world who'd dream of hurting him.
Not like Ava. Nobody would get themselves hurt to protect Ava. Nobody but Anna, Detective Meadows, and apparently Mr. Queen.
Chapter Eighteen
It wasn't hard to see, through the night-vision binoculars, what was happening. What was hard was figuring out a way to do something about it. And figuring out what the hell it all meant.
It wasn't hard to figure out what Mitch's reaction would be. He'd either be angry that Anna hadn't somehow figured out a way to stop it—because everything was her fault, all the time—or he'd be disinterested. Those were the only two emotions he had about any of this.
Either it's all a big hassle for him, a big embarrassment for him, or it's not something worth thinking about at all. The thought puts Josh into a bad mood right off the bat. He turns the binoculars towards Anna. He can't see her face through the infrared, but she's got something in her arms.
From the size, from the way that she's so wrapped up in it, it's not hard to know what it is. When a bright orange shape reaches out, up towards Anna's face, it all but confirms.
His heart flutters in his chest. Thank God. They've got something, at least. Things went bad. But they've got a long time to deal with that. They'll want way more than a few petty million dollars out of a billionaire's pocket.
Never mind that there would be more than one major source of funding who would love to have a sitting congressman who knows exactly how much he has to appreciate from them. That by itself would be worth tens of millions. Hundreds of millions of dollars.
Josh sets the binoculars down.
"Where are you going?" He looks down at Sherry as he pushes himself up.
"I'm going to meet Miss Witt. That boy is going to give her hell when his daddy ain't with her, and you and I both know it."
She doesn't argue. She doesn't argue because she knows he's right, in spite of the fact that she might not want to think about it. Nobody wants to think about it, but that doesn't change reality.
Josh stuffs his hands into his pockets and shifts his weapon out of the way. It seems like no matter where he's got it, it's always in the way. Maybe the answer is a shoulder holster. Some guys prefer them.
Still, that would be weird, too. Uncomfortable. And he wouldn't be able to walk around without his jacket on without advertising it to the whole world, which isn't exactly what he wants either.
He makes good time getting there, but they were a long way back. Anna, who only had a hundred yards or so to go, can't take that much time. Which means that by the time Detective Meadows gets there, she's already back there with Mitchell.
Josh isn't in a position to hear the whole conversation, but things can't have gone too far.
"—thinking, were you?"
"I'm sorry, Mitch, I didn't mean to—"
"I'm sure you're real sorry, you dumb bitch. I can't fucking believe they trusted you with this. Didn't they know how bad you'd fuck it up? Haven't they seen how much you've fucked up everything else so far?"
Anna's curled herself up around the baby, now. Like she's trying to form a protective shell around the girl. Though it's Mitchell's little girl, and though he's never seen her in his life, he doesn't seem to have any interest in looking at the kid.
"Cut it out, Mitch." Josh's own voice surprises him. It's got a hard edge to it. A threat that he's not going to put into words, but one that he's absolutely willing to put to the test.
"You must have seen. She let them take my dad. This bitch can't even—"
Josh's hand balls up in Mitchell's shirt. The shirt by itself probably costs more than the detective's suit. More than he makes in a month, probably.
"Do you know how to shut your mouth?"
His right hand is a tight fist. He keeps it at his side, but every sinew in the arm is ready to snap all at once to drive a punch into the younger Queen's face.
Mitch's face is twisted up in a mask of fury. There's not a single sign of fear on his face. The threat of violence might not have connected yet, and it probably won't until Josh follows through. He hasn't decided not to, yet.
"Get your filthy hands off me. What did she do to get you on her side? She fucking you? What's it like eating someone else's leftovers?"
Josh isn't aware of what happens until a moment later, when he wakes up to the sight of Mitch Queen on the ground, his own body pressing the boy into the dirt. His knuckles hurt where the skin's split on the boy's skull.
Mitch looks like someone's smashed his face in, but as Josh slows the pounding as his consciousness returns, the boy's face twists into a smile.
"Fuck you, you dumb sack of shit," he says. There's blood on his teeth when he smiles. "Get off me."
Josh gets off him and stands up. He ignores the stinging in his hands.
"You're not hurt, are you?"
Anna shakes her head, but she's got her eyes on Josh. She's got a strange look in her eyes. It might be fear, it might not.
"I'm going to get you back to the police."
"Are you—is that—are you going to be in trouble for that?"
Josh looks over his shoulder. Mitchell spits into the ground. It's hard to make out colors without much light, but the spit is dark-colored.
"Doesn't matter," he says. His voice is soft. Josh leans over and looks at the baby. She smiles up at him and he can't help smiling back. "Is this Ava?"
Anna doesn't look up at him when she answers. "Yeah, this is her. She's a sweet-heart, isn't she?"
"What a cutie," Josh says. He steps back. He shouldn't be getting this close. He can't deny how good it feels, though. In the morning, things can go sideways. He can get busted back down to patrol.
But for now, he's at least got something going right for him.
Chapter Nineteen
There's something very strange about the entire thing that transpired there in the darkness. No doubt, it was seen—when Josh walked back up to the van, nobody said much. He had an 'I don't want to talk about it' look on his face, and people seemed to notice it.
Anna, however, noticed just about everything else. But not that. She had been thinking on more than one occasion that Josh reminded her of Mitchell. The temper, the bull-headedness.
The way that he acted like he was in charge. Of course, it was worth noting
that in both cases, they were right. It was easy to notice the way that she acted around both of them, too.
With Ava back in her arms, it was easier to see things clearly. Easier to think. It wasn't going to stay that way, but for the moment, her panic levels were through the floor. Practically zero. Anna hadn't felt this good since she was a little girl. And maybe not even then.
She did her breathing anyways. She felt deliriously happy—which, if Linda heard her say that, she'd just say that it was a little bit manic. She'd say that Anna needs to keep her head on her shoulders.
It's not over yet. She's going to have to figure everything out all over again. She's going to have to buckle down and get back into her life. The panic will come back. It's not gone forever, and it's probably not even gone for very long.
But it's gone for now.
She'd compared Mitchell and Josh many times. It was hard not to. They both acted similar. They both had been the only men she really knew, the only men that she'd ever been in a position to rely on.
The differences—if there were any, which for all she knew, there might not be—wouldn't show themselves right away. That, though, back there… that was a difference.
Mitchell had never stood up for her, not once. Once or twice, he'd gotten dangerously close to it. But he'd never gone through with it. She wondered, vaguely, if he ever would.
Not that she deserved it. She shouldn't get funny ideas in her head about things like that. It's too dangerous, too flighty.
She shook her head. No. Stop thinking that way. She can't afford to keep beating up on herself. No way. Can't afford it at all. She won't keep doing it. No chance.
Deep breath. In, one two three. Out, two three four.
She slips into the car beside Josh. They should have brought Ava's car-seat, but she just… it hadn't occurred to her. So Anna holds her in her arms and Josh drives slow back to the apartment.
They drive in silence. Even Ava is quiet. She's tired. She can barely keep her eyes open, even as her mother smiles down at her, playing with her eyes and making silly faces.
If she falls asleep before they get home, she'll wake up again as soon as she's set down. That's how it always goes. But if Anna can just keep her awake a little longer…
The car eases slowly to a stop outside the apartment. The engine stays running.
"Aren't you coming inside?"
Josh looks at her like the question doesn't make sense. "I just thought… let me get you something to drink. A coffee. Or a beer. Or something."
She can see him deciding. And she can see when he decides he will, an instant before his hand moves over and his wrist flicks the keys into the 'off' position and pulls them out.
Ava squirms, momentarily alerted by the jingle of keys. She doesn't have enough energy to really investigate, though, and a moment later she's drifting again. Anna opens the door and holds her daughter tight. She'll be hungry, no doubt.
Soon, she'll want to be fed, once she's slept a little. But until then, she's too tired to think much. She fusses a little as Anna reaches for her own keys, in her purse. The jingle draws less squirming and less attention this time. Sleep is right around the corner.
Anna fits the keys into the lock and opens the door. Detective Meadows catches it and holds it open as she steps inside. The lights of home are a comfort. Anna heads up to the second floor, and the detective isn't far behind.
She gets inside only a moment after Ava's eyes drift shut again, and this time they stay shut. Her mother makes a bee-line for the crib and sets her down, laying the blanket out over her and tucking it around the sides.
She doesn't hear the sound of Josh's footsteps coming up behind her, but she feels it when his arm encircles her waist as he leans over. It feels sexual, like he's claiming his territory. He probably isn't thinking of it that way, though.
"She's lovely," he says softly.
"Yeah, she is." Anna can't take her eyes off her daughter for a minute. Just the fact that she's right back where she belongs.
For a couple of hours, she's got peace. For a couple of hours, she doesn't have to worry any more about what's going to happen next. Ava's back, and there's nothing to worry about. Nothing at all, nothing in the whole wide world.
Anna doesn't know who moved first, but she knows that by the time her lips pressed against the detective's, they both knew what they wanted.
Hormones and emotions and everything be damned. There could be a thousand ways to explain why she's doing what she's doing. Linda might not approve, but it's not her decision, it's Anna's.
Her body fits into his comfortably when he wraps his arms around her. The softness of her body compliments his hard lines and muscles, even as his hands start to explore further across her skin.
His fingers find her aching nipples and trace a circle around them. It draws out a gasp. He doesn't pinch them. Instead, his hands dip lower, lower still, until his fingers trace the waist of her jeans.
"Are you sure about this," he says. His voice is low and soft, and he doesn't look like he's going to be upset if she says no. But that doesn't mean that she's going to change her mind.
Anna nods and presses a kiss into his collar bone, where his shirt separates. He undoes a button on her jeans and the zip comes undone loudly beneath it. The jeans come off easily. They were tight a few months ago, and yet now they feel almost as if they're threatening to fall off. They do.
Josh pushes her back onto the bed, and she lets him. It's hard to know what to expect from the detective. He's unpredictable in all the best ways. When he lifts up her hips and dips to her knees, his mouth finds her folds…
Anna's head presses back into the heavy fabric of the comforter and her eyes roll a little in her head. Is this what it feels like when a guy goes down on you? She's been missing out.
His tongue dances a circle around her clit, each little movement sending a heavy jolt of pleasure right through her. Her vision's blanked out, her body turning off anything that's not essential to making sure that the pleasure continues unabated.
His fingers find the spot below and he probes there, as well, the feeling of fullness complimenting the pleasure that his tongue is giving her deliciously. Nothing else matters, not right now. Her muscles tighten up, more and more, as orgasm approaches.
And then, all at once, her body goes slack again. She lets out a long breath as his mouth continues to pleasure her as the orgasm rolls through her body in waves.
She hears Josh's zipper being undone, somewhere far away, and knows what's coming, and there's nothing that Anna wants more than to give it to him.
Chapter Twenty
Josh Meadows looks down at the girl beneath him, her shirt pushed up over her plump breasts and her eyes out-of-focus with pleasure. She smiles up at him.
He could fill a book with the number of rules he's breaking right now, but it doesn't matter one God damned bit. She turns her head to the side to take his cock between her pretty lips.
The searing heat that envelopes him threatens to send him over the edge right then and there, a pleasure that he can't possibly resist.
"Fuck," he growls, his hips moving on their own to try to get as much of that pleasure as he can take. Anna's mouth moves with him, taking that in stride.
Her breasts pool deliciously on her chest, her nipples swollen and dark and perfect. His thumb dances across one again and she pushes up into the contact without stopping her ministrations.
He moves his hands lower again, dancing past her waist and down to the place where her legs meet, his rough fingers teasing the tip of her clit. Her hips roll up to meet his movements, her mouth moving with renewed vigor.
"Jesus Christ, Anna—your mouth. Fuck."
She moans with him in her mouth. His cock stiffens more than he thought possible. The beautiful woman pulls off of his cock to take a breath for an instant. She leans back forward an instant later, but Josh has another plan in mind.
He moves between her hips, her legs propped up around his
waist. She feels him lining his hardness up with her, feels him threatening to push inside.
"Are you sure about this?" He repeats it again, even though his entire body screams to just do what comes naturally. His mind is telling him that everything he's doing is wrong—that he shouldn't even be thinking about doing any of the things that he's doing.
He can stop, but he won't. Not unless he hears the words from her mouth. Not unless she tells him that she doesn't want it. She doesn't. She traces a hand down the lines of his chest and purrs to fuck her.
He pushes inside. The walls of her pussy already grip him tightly, as if they're trying to milk him for all he's worth. The heat sears into him. His cock twitches painfully, but he keeps himself buried hilt-deep inside her for a moment, to let her adjust.
The way that she rolls her hips tells him that he's waited long enough. He pulls out a little way and plows forward again, pushing deep inside. Her body reacts, a soft moan ripping from her lips even as she tries to stay quiet.
"Jesus, fuck, you're tight," Josh growls. It's hard to believe, the way that her body grips him and tries desperately not to let go.
He moves hard inside her, his entire body tense and taut like a spring that's been pressed as tight as it will go. Her heels press him into her, driving his cock deeper inside with each thrust.
Every time he pulls back out her body only knows enough to try to stop him, to grip him tight and pull him back inside. To take as much pleasure as she can possibly get.
Anna turns and twists beneath him as he slams home once more, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh ringing through the bedroom. Her body moves to meet him with each thrust until finally, with one last thrust, he pushes inside and spends himself.
His cock spasms hard as rope after rope of cum shoots into her. Anna's eyes flutter for a moment as she tightens around him, as if her body is trying to swallow his sperm, to bring it deeper inside her.
Finally she lays her head back, her breaths coming short and hard and ragged. Josh lowers himself down on top of her and presses a kiss into her lips.