Don't Call Me Sweetheart

by Codi Gary

  Officer Greg Fornier slapped Luke on the shoulder and took a deep breath. “You smell that, Jessup?”

  “Yeah, so put on more deodorant,” Luke quipped.

  “Nah, not that real-man smell my wife loves. I mean the smell of heroism.”

  Luke chuckled. Fornier was five years older than Luke, with thinning brown hair he kept closely cut, and twinkling blue eyes. The guy was always cracking jokes and keeping the atmosphere light when they needed it, and the guys loved him for it.

  “Shit, Fornier, your delusions of grandeur are making you sound like a screwball.”

  Fornier grabbed his chest as though Luke had broken his heart. “Laugh all you want, but I am telling you, at the end of today, we’re gonna have our names all over the news for saving lives and kicking ass.”

  Several officers around them laughed and cheered, and Luke just rolled his eyes as they jogged out to the SWAT van. While they drove, Voight went over their tactical approach and all thoughts of Marley went out of his head. His mind cleared, just like he’d been able to do since his first combat mission. All emotions turned off, and as they came out of the van and got into position, Luke was ready.

  Voight got in front with his shield. “We’re going through the side door. The negotiator has been trying to call and no one is picking up. Let’s move.”

  They moved tightly down the narrow alleyway in sync, and then one by one through the door. Two on one side, three on the other. They made it into the main lobby before they heard voices.

  “Grant, we’re fucked. We got to get out of here.” This guy’s tone was high and nasally, the type of whine that grated on Luke’s nerves.

  Another voice, deeper and melodious replied, “There is no way out. It’s either a bullet or prison.”

  “Then let’s just walk out of here,” the first man said.

  The sound of a hard slap echoed through the quiet as a new perp growled menacingly. “Get your shit together, man. I’m not going back to prison.”

  There were at least three of them. One was ready to die. Suddenly, Captain Rankin’s voice boomed from the outside. “This is the Los Angeles Police Department. Send out the hostages and put your weapons down, or we will be forced to come in.”

  “Jesus, Grant, come on—”

  “Shut the fuck up, or I’m going to put you down on principle,” Grant the Growler snapped.

  The second guy tried to reason with Grant. “He’s right. We’re done for and I’m not ready to die.”

  “Then you two walk out like a couple of pussies. I’m getting paid or I’m going down, but I am not letting them put a pair of cuffs on me ever again.”

  Luke couldn’t see any hostages from his vantage point, and shook his head at Voight. Voight cursed quietly over the com, and signaled for Luke and Fornier to get in position on the other side of the room. They crawled behind the teller desks, out of sight of the perps, until they reached the far end. Luke heard a noise, and looked up at what appeared to be an office door. If he stood, the three men would see him, and if he opened the door, they might panic and run, or worse, start firing.

  The captain’s voice boomed through the glass windows on the front of the bank. “This is your last warning. Give yourselves up or we will take you out.”

  Voight’s voice whispered through his ear piece, “Four bogies at forty-five degrees. Wait for my signal.”

  Damn, Luke was sure there’d only been three.

  “That’s it, I’m out of here,” the Whiner said.

  Luke heard a clattering and then footsteps before the blast of a gun erupted.

  “Take them out,” Voight said in his ear piece.

  Luke came through the swinging door and stood up. He had mere seconds to take in the scene before they noticed him. One man was crying over another, who lay prone and writhing. Two others with guns, standing several feet away, were watching dispassionately and hadn’t heard Luke and Fornier move.

  Voight and the rest of their squad were moving into position. Luke hollered, “Police! Put your weapons down, and hands on top of your head.”

  The two with guns whirled his way, and before they could even get their guns all the way up, he fired.

  Luke shot the one on the left, and he screamed, dropping his semi-automatic as he clutched his arm. The other man squared off, and Luke could tell he was weighing his chances. This must be Grant.

  “Don’t do it.”

  But the man started to raise his gun. Luke and Fornier fired, and then out of the corner of his eye, Luke saw Fornier fall.

  Voight and the rest of the squad fired, and Luke blasted until the suspect was on the ground. Then he went to Fornier’s side and his stomach sank.

  Shit, his neck was covered in blood. The perp had gotten a lucky shot off, right in the throat. Luke put pressure on the wound, talking to Fornier all the while he choked and gasped.

  “Come on man, it’s just a scratch. You’re gonna be fine. Remember, we’re going to have our names in the paper. Hell, I bet every news outlet is gonna want to interview us. Your wife is gonna be so damn proud of you.”

  Fornier coughed and red splattered the inside of his face cover.

  “Officer down!” Luke shouted, staring at the blood seeping between his fingers and over the back to drip on the white tile of the bank. “We need an ambo in here now!”

  The blast of a gun registered just as something hit Luke in the back, sending him falling forward over Fornier, his slick hands leaving streaks of red over the hard floor. Pain erupted from the spot, and he couldn’t catch his breath.

  He’d been shot.

  * * * *

  Marley kept pace alongside a groaning Rylie, grinning at her friend’s dramatic carrying on. They’d driven out to Marley’s favorite trail behind the middle school, with all of the hills and cross-country trek. It reminded her of running in high school. It was exhilarating and made Marley feel as though she could keep going for hours.

  Rylie was less enthusiastic.

  “You’re fine, we only have a half mile left,” Marley said.

  Rylie slowed, her breathing ragged. Sweat dripped down her temples and over her ruddy cheeks as she huffed. “A half mile? I can’t go another half mile. I’ll die.”

  Marley was tempted to roll her eyes, but managed to control the urge. No sense in pissing off her friend when there were so many places Rylie could bury her body.

  “You will not. Besides, you were the one who wanted to come.”

  Rylie glared up at her as she came to a stop, her hands going to her knees as she sucked in air. “I said I wanted to go for a jog, not the length of California.”

  Marley jogged backward and the eye roll emerged despite previous concerns. “Come on, I can see where we parked the car. It’s the length of a Katy Perry song.”

  Marley was almost certain he was going to have to carry Rylie back to the car, when suddenly, she burst into a run.

  “Katy Perry can suck my balls!” Rylie yelled over her shoulder.

  Marley whooped and hollered. “Go, girl, go!”

  Picking up speed, she raced Rylie the last fifty feet, and beat her to the fence by several steps. They slowed to a walk as they reached Rylie’s car, and Marley laughed as Rylie laid her head down on the hood with a sigh. “Boy, am I glad to see you.”

  Marley leaned a hip against the passenger side, gulping from her water bottle before pouring some of the cool liquid over her face. As she shook the droplets off, she said, “I take it you’re not going to go running with me tomorrow morning either?”

  Rylie didn’t even lift her head up to answer her. “I’ll go running again when hell freezes over.”

  “Well, I’m pretty sure the devil is alive and well and working at Something Borrowed,” Marley said.

  Finally, Rylie stretched up, her arms rising above her head as she shot Marley a balef
ul look. “Oh, come on, Dustin isn’t that bad. Plus, he’s cute, rich, successful—”

  “Egotistical, self-centered, a dick head.”

  “All I can say is he’s been pretty nice to me and as the authority on dick heads, I feel like he’s just misunderstood.”

  The mention of Rylie’s abusive asshat boyfriend made Marley grip her water bottle tighter. “Seriously, why don’t you leave Asher? He doesn’t appreciate you, you’re obviously miserable, and frankly, he doesn’t deserve you. At all.”

  Rylie went to the driver’s side door and pulled her keys out of the pocket of her sweats. “He wasn’t always this way. I guess I just keep thinking things will get better.”

  “Meanwhile, you’re putting your life on hold for someone who needs to have his ass kicked.”

  Rylie opened the door with a sad smile and hit the unlock button for Marley. “Can we please talk about something else? Like your love life for once.”

  Marley snorted as she slid into the passenger side. “Ha, that’s a short conversation.”

  “Come on. You’re hot. You’re single and you go to weddings every weekend with tons of single dudes.”

  “That I cannot date.”

  Rylie sighed heavily as she started the car. “Oh, what Kelly doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

  Marley almost choked. Rylie would never break the rules; she was too much of a people pleaser, no matter how big she might talk.

  “You can run your mouth all you like, tough girl, but I know you. You would never go behind Kelly’s back and risk your job.”

  Rylie’s expression changed to one of sadness. “Only because my job is the only thing I have for myself.”

  Marley reached out to squeeze Rylie’s arm, and noticed her friend’s wince. “Did I hurt you?”

  “I’m a little sore from doing weights last night.”

  Something told Marley she was lying, but unless she tried to pull off the long-sleeved work out shirt, she couldn’t call her out. Marley’s jaw clenched in frustration. If Asher was hurting Rylie, there was nothing anyone could do if Rylie wouldn’t talk about it.

  “You know you can always stay with me, right? If things are really bad.”

  Marley watched helplessly as Rylie dashed a tear from her cheek. “I’ll be okay. Really. I’m fine.”

  “Yeah, cause that’s convincing.”

  Rylie backed out of the parking lot and headed back into town, ignoring her statement. Marley flipped on the radio, hoping to lighten the mood with some tunes. The lyrics to “Love Shack” pumped from the speakers and Marley grinned, pretending to hold a microphone to her mouth.

  Rylie glanced at her then back on the road while Marley belted out the words, and she could tell Rylie was suppressing a smile. When the chorus come on, Rylie joined in loudly, “Well, the Love Shack is a…”

  The two were giggling and serenading each other until Rylie pulled up to Marley’s place just as the song ended. Marley leaned over and gave her a big hug. “You know I love you, which is why I worry so much. A lot of people would walk through fire for you. You don’t have to be alone in this. You can ask for help.”

  “I know. I promise, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Then I will stop hovering.” Marley stepped out of the car, waving as Rylie drove off and went into the house. Her little gray house with white trim was the perfect size at just the right price. She would have saved money a lot faster staying with her mom, but as much as she loved her, Marley liked her own space.

  And there was no way she would have brought a guy home to hook up in her old bedroom. The pink canopy bed alone would have been a real mood killer.

  She walked through the door and found Butters sprawled on the couch with his legs straight out, his eyes opening slowly as she made her way over to him. Running a hand across his soft fur, she tsked, “You think you run this house, don’t you?”

  His ears flicked in response and she laughed, stripping off her sweaty shirt when she reached her bedroom. She flipped on the TV as she peeled off her work out clothes and laid out her dress for the day, a teal blue chiffon sundress with lace around the neckline. It was just after nine, so there wasn’t much on besides the news. She liked it for background noise.

  The minute she turned the shower on, Butters came racing into the room, and sat outside the glass doors, his little tail bobbing impatiently.

  “Dude, no, this is my shower. Get your own.”

  He completely ignored her, of course. With a heavy sigh, she opened the door and he hopped in, shaking and jumping around in the water. It was the craziest thing, but from the first time she’d bathed him in the sink, Butters had loved the water and never passed up an opportunity to sneak in before her.

  “Okay, that is enough mister. I have to get ready for work and I prefer my shower hotter than tepid.”

  Butters hopped out slowly and shook, while Marley bent over to dry him off with a towel. Finally, she was able to take her shower, letting her mind drift as she rinsed off the soap and shampoo.

  It had been three days since Luke left, and so far, she’d managed to secure a place for the bridal shower, book the band that Sonora had dubbed the least horrible, and reserve a suite in Tahoe for the bachelorette party. It had taken a lot of finagling and ass-kissing, but she had to admit, she was pretty awesome.

  An hour later, Marley walked into work, and found Sonora and Dustin in her office. Sonora was sitting in a chair with her hair swept to one side, showing off her bare shoulders in a creamy white sundress. Her legs were crossed and a pair of strappy sandals encased her delicate feet. Dustin leaned back against Marley’s desk, his arms folded over his expensive charcoal gray suit. His blue eyes twinkled when he looked up and found Marley in the doorway.

  “Good morning, Marley. We were just talking about you.”

  Marley’s mouth tightened and her eye started to twitch. “Dustin. Sonora. I hope you were saying good things.”

  Sonora fluttered her lashes at Dustin. “I was just telling Dustin how you’ve managed to pull so much together in a short amount of time.”

  Marley doubted it, unless Sonora had told him out of disbelief. “It’s my job. Now, Dustin, is there something I can help you with? Because if not, I believe Sonora and I have a meeting.”

  “Of course.” Dustin stood up, nodding at both of them. “Ladies, enjoy your day.”

  Once he was out the door, Marley sat down across from Sonora, who appeared irritated.

  “Did I interrupt something?” Marley asked.

  Sonora’s face flushed even as she sniffed. “Don’t be stupid. I am happily engaged.”

  Marley sat down in her office chair and spread her hands out. “Then what have I done to piss you off so early?”

  Sonora straightened, and pinned Marley with a critical gaze. “I wanted to be sure whatever is going on between you and Brent’s Neanderthal best man has been squashed.”

  Marley fought back the urge to tell her to eff off and it was none of her business, but unfortunately, it was. “Yes, of course. To be honest, it wasn’t anything really to begin with.”

  Sonora cocked her head to the side, but Marley wasn’t buying the fake concern bit. “Good. I was afraid you might be upset.”

  “Upset about what?” Marley asked.

  “Oh, there was a bank robbery this morning and Luke’s team went to…what do they say? Neutralize it?”

  Marley’s heart started pounding erratically.

  “Anyway,” Sonora continued, “I guess he was shot.”

  Oh my God. Oh my God. Her stomach bottomed out and she waited for Sonora to say more, but instead, she seemed to be studying her cuticles.

  Finally, unable to stand it anymore, Marley snapped, “Are you just going to sit there or tell me whether or not Luke is okay?”

  Sonora had the audacity to appear smug. “I thought
there was nothing going on between you.”

  “There isn’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be concerned.”

  Sonora stood up with a smirk. “He’s fine. All parts in working order. But I forget, you don’t care about that.”

  Sonora headed for the door while Marley’s every fiber wanted to know more, to ask a thousand questions about Luke’s condition and if he’d be back this weekend.

  But there was no way she could push for more with Sonora, and the whole situation made her feel powerless.

  “Chop chop! We have lots to do today.”

  The only satisfaction Marley could hold onto was that Sonora’s dress was wrinkly and clinging to her backside in a most unbecoming way.

  Chapter 11

  On Saturday, Luke winced as he opened the door to the bakery in Sweetheart. He’d agreed to go taste cakes for Brent, who had other wedding duties to perform, but he was still pretty sore from the hostage negotiation. His back had been bruised when the bullet had flattened against his bulletproof vest, but it was a good lesson: Never turn your back on a suspect.

  Fornier needed surgery, and although he’d lost a lot of blood, he was supposed to make a full recovery. The whole squad had been in the waiting room while he was in surgery, and when he woke up, he asked for Luke, thanking him for keeping him alive.

  That was the part of the job Luke hated. The fact that they were always taking the chance that they wouldn’t make it back anytime they left the house. Maybe he was getting old, or the violence was just becoming too much for him. For fourteen years he’d served his country in one way or another, protecting it. It might be time to slow things down.

  He figured eating cake for an hour was a great way to start, especially since Marley was filling in for Sonora. Luke wasn’t proud that he was excited to see her. It seemed no matter how many times he said he was over it, they ended up thrown together.