Unlawful Love: A BWWM Romance

by Tyla Walker

  So instead of facing them, I immediately slip out the back patio door. And frantically think of a place where they can hide Kylie. I try to calm down and think. I can't make any rash decisions right now!

  "Chief, it's Greg. I think we have lost Kylie. I need a team to help me find her. ASAP!" I send the message to the chief, and I immediately look for her.

  My priority is to save her, no matter what.

  Thirteen

  Kylie

  Hello! Hey? What’s up, criminals??? The hell are you doing here...punks? I’m trying to look for the best greeting to throw these two off as they rummage through our stuff. Walking in on them is one thing, but walking in on them while they commit a crime on police officers? This goes down to my weird police encounters, that’s for sure.

  Usually, you run away from police officers, and you don’t dare search on their things. I’m guessing that my cover’s blown. Fuck it.

  “Excuse me, did you need something?” I go for the innocent act, just to gauge their response, and then go from there.

  “Mrs. Jenkins,” the female owner of the resort says with the same innocence, despite the crime they are committing. “You look well.”

  And the Academy Award goes to… I cut off such thoughts, my cover’s blown, for sure.

  “And no need to pretend, we know that you and Mr. Greg Jenkins are both cops,” says the husband with the same air of innocence in him.

  “Oh?” Suddenly, my years of experience and witty comebacks disappear from my mind, and I feel nervous. Shit, my instincts are warning me to stay far from these two.

  In the end, both husband and wife win the award for best actors, while I back away from the two of them.

  I think of the possible escape scenarios. There’s the window where I can surprise them with a sprint, but that’ll risk injury. They’ll catch up before I remove the shattered glasses on my body.

  Another option is I can fight them, but there’s this chill on my back. They’re dangerous people, that’s for sure.

  Something’s not right. The ‘couple’ is way too calm to have a cop catch them on the act. They’re not even nervous, much like how the wife doesn’t bother being quiet at night when she goes through people’s stuff. Don’t they know that we’ve accumulated enough evidence to catch them?

  Unless…

  Before I connect the dots, I feel something hit my head. I stagger forward, my consciousness leaving me as I feel something warm and wet on the back of my head. With the remaining strength I have, I touch it. Its blood.

  Shit. SHIT. No. I can’t… I blink a few times before my vision goes blurry, and I finally lose my consciousness.

  Greg…

  I see Greg in an empty field. I’m not sure where we are, and I can’t make sense of how I got here. Greg, I try to speak. I try to call his name, but any words my mind wants to say are stuck in my throat. GREG! GREG! I have to say it; I have to tell him.

  I have to tell him.

  But he walks away from me, and the ground is swallowing me slowly. I feel a throbbing pain on the back of my head. The feeling of the blood dripping from my hair to my nape is making me dizzier. The cold feeling of death is covering me.

  Is this it? Am I going to die?

  The thought scares me. But then I feel strong arms pull me up from behind; familiar strong arms taking me out from the hole I’m falling into.

  “It’s not your time yet, Kylie.”

  A voice I have forgotten speaks from behind my ear, and the person behind me successfully carries me out completely, freeing me. Warmth soon takes over me, and I can hear the beating of my heart.

  Nope. That’s not my heart beating. It’s my aching head.

  “Geoff!”

  I wake up, and I felt the jolt of life surge through my entire body. Not just that, my head fucking hurts. Damn, I should have stayed dead. Once the throbbing subsides, I scan the area and realize that I’m sitting on the floor, with my hands and legs tied.

  “Jenkins, so nice of you to wake up,” the woman says sarcastically. “You missing should keep your husband busy while we head out. I hope he finds you in time. You should have minded your own business.”

  “And don’t bother saying he’ll catch us first and put his job above yours,” the man says confidently. “A man like that, a man who looks at you that way, well…”

  He smiles like he knows something I don’t. It’s fucking irritating that I spat on him, my saliva mixed with hints of blood splatter on his shirt. I can taste blood inside my mouth. I must have bitten my lips when I fell unconscious earlier.

  The guy doesn’t seem to mind as the two of them took their flashlights with them and left. I hear a door slam and what sounded like a padlock, locking me in. Great, they left. Now think of how you can escape, Kylie. Think.

  First things first, what do I remember? I got hit really hard on the back of my head. Apart from that, I really don’t remember anything else. I’m beginning to think I have a concussion with this terrible headache I’m experiencing. I feel a little lightheaded too, which means I lost a good amount of blood, but not enough to die…

  ...yet.

  No. Nope. No one is dying, and YOU will not die. Just calm down and don’t overthink about what can happen to you. Think about what you can do to get out of this. Geoff is waiting for you. Not Big Geoff, little Geoff. Yes. He’ll probably ask you to watch that movie he’s been anticipating when you get back.

  I talk myself out of panicking. Thinking about my son seems to work as my instincts to survive kicks in. I lean back for a second to catch my breath because I still have this excruciating headache.

  Baby...wait for mommy…

  I see myself sitting in my husband’s dead body when I close my eyes. Then I see Greg sit beside me, his arms embracing me tightly as he places a comforting kiss on the side of my head.

  I passed out for a few minutes. When I open my eyes again, my hands and feet are asleep. I’m also getting cold.

  I seriously need help!

  Fourteen

  Greg

  KYLIE? KYLIE!? WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!!? I'm frantically searching for Kylie. All my calm and coolness flies away, all gone. I can't think anymore, I'm already panicking. How can I calm down? The room we shared during this fucking retreat is a mess. There is a bloody statue on the floor. And no Kylie.

  I've never had a breakdown like this, especially not during work. This isn't even the first time Kylie, or I got in trouble during an assignment. So what's different? Why can't I think straight now? Panic is the last thing a cop should do in situations like this. Not even the last thing a cop should do, it's something police should NEVER do.

  Because right at this very moment, Kylie can bleed to death.

  The thought of losing her got my brains to work appropriately by force. Right now, I can't afford to let panic take over me.

  I march to the bathroom and wash my face. The cold water wakes my senses, and I'm getting my rationality back as I think of what happened.

  Kylie must have walked in on the culprit making a mess of our room. Traces of her footprints indicate she stepped back. But she doesn't know there is another person behind her. This person hits her with the statue.

  Why would they take her away? Why not just leave her on the floor?

  Because they need to escape without me going after them. They took Kylie and hid her because they know I'll go look for her. Shit. This means they know I love her. They will take this time to make a run for it while I look for Kylie first.

  Not on my watch.

  I call the chief who called in reinforcements. They will take care of those criminals. Next is locating Kylie. That couple can't move around this resort without others seeing them. One of the couples most likely saw them take Kylie away.

  My now working brain takes my feet outside the corridor to look for anyone I can talk to. I spot the couple I made friends with during the day one. They can tell I'm worried, and it looks like they know something.

  "We saw
the owners take Kylie, and she doesn't look well." Luckily the witness had a bad feeling, so she asked them what happened.

  "They told me that poor Kylie tripped and hit her head." She shakes her head. "Can't really trust those floors. I know the feeling. I fell on my bum the first day we got here!"

  "True story," tells her husband. "They say they'll be taking Kylie to the medical center part of the resort."

  There is no medical center.

  He gave my shoulder a reassuring pat. "Don't you worry, Greg! I'm sure she's fine."

  I don't want to be rude, so I just smile at the couple and thank them. I'm wandering aimlessly in the halls of this damn resort, and I can feel how my emotions are threatening to burst out of my chest to have my second breakdown.

  Calm down, Greg. Base on the blood I found on the floor, and the story the witness told me about, it has probably been half an hour at least. No, that's not right. An hour, maybe?

  IT DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER NOW GREG MILLER, SHE'S GOING TO DIE BECAUSE OF YOU! I shout in my head as I punch the wall beside me, making a hole as I feel like I'm going to lose my shit completely.

  I flinch when I feel a sting coming from my hand. That was dumb. I shake my hand.

  But it helps, I think. I start thinking straight again as I decide to find the blueprint of the whole resort.

  I find my way to the station and to my office to call for the city clerk. I'm counting every passing second with the thought of Kylie's well-being in my head. Every single fucking time I close my eyes, I can see her bleeding out in different ways on some floor, ground, bed, or whatever. I can picture her slowly slipping away while I have yet to locate where she is.

  I finally found the blueprints from the city clerk. He's not happy with the invitation to come to the office in the middle of the night. Not that I care, someone's life is on the line. And not just any life, it's Kylie's life.

  I scan the piece of paper after spreading it on a flat surface. If Kylie can see me now, she'll say I have turned into a mad man. I let out a dry chuckle as I imagine it.

  Sorry, Kylie. If I do turn mad, it's because I let her die without confessing how much I love her. I tell myself inside my crumbling sanity, regretting every single day that has passed where I didn't say I love you to her.

  I love you, Kylie. I love you to the moon and back. I love you so much if I found you dead… not only will I rip those criminals in half, or impale them, or grind their bodies and feed them to the fucking pigs… I'll probably end up killing myself too.

  My eyes squint at an area in the blueprint. There is a cellar underneath the older part of the resort. Wait for me, Kylie.

  By the time I come rushing out of the office, backup has arrived. We follow the blueprints to where the cellar is. The chief informs me that he also sent cops to the airport to wait for our sweet criminal couple.

  "Thanks, chief."

  "Now, go to Kylie and make sure both of you come back here alive."

  Don't worry chief, I plan on it. I end the call as we are approaching the cellar where I hope Kylie is. The cellar door is hidden by branches and other debris. We dig through. I can tell that some debris blocked this area on purpose. It means people were here, and that means Kylie is too.

  We found it, but it's locked.

  One of the cops with me located bolt cutters, and he cuts off the lock. Then, we all descend on the dark stairs with flashlights, hoping that Kylie is down there and okay.

  Fifteen

  Kylie

  I can’t die here! People are waiting for me! My son and Greg! This is a stupid place to die!

  Adrenalin seems to kick in since I feel like freaking Wonder Woman with how I try to remove the bonds around my hands. I grit my teeth as I continue my motivational speech in my head. I don’t care if it’s not a pretty heartfelt internal monologue, because it fucking works you hear me!?

  The rope finally snaps as I cut through it with a sharp-looking rock I found while crawling in this dungeon. I feel like MacGyver after freeing my wrists. I’ll teach Geoff how to free himself with any objects when we get home. Wait, no. I’ll just make sure THIS never happens to my little man.

  I frantically untie my legs next. Then, I let myself rest for like ten seconds since my horrible headache is coming back. No, you cannot pass out again. Do you hear me, Kylie Jones? No fainting when you’re almost out. I repeat this like a mantra inside my throbbing skull. If I faint again, who knows if I’ll ever wake up?

  So, I stood up, albeit a little wobbly like my legs are made of jelly. I hold on the wall. The staircase is in front of me; I contemplated running up the stairs, but I hear voices. I find myself a weapon, a piece of rebar that had been left on the floor.

  I’m running low on adrenalin, but I keep my feet steady, and my arms ready to swing hard. I hide in the shadows by the stairs, waiting. Just as someone steps off the bottom step, I recognize the voice calling my name softly. Its Greg’s voice.

  “Kylie? Kylie...please be alright.” I can hear it loud and clear. The tenderness in it melts my heart. I’m the same.

  “Greg?” I call out his name with the same tenderness and step out from the shadows, still holding the rebar. I notice that there are several other cops behind him.

  “Are you alone?” he asks as if he’s already threatening anyone who is hiding.

  “I am.” I drop the rebar, feeling the relief replace my adrenalin in my system as I start to fall forward.

  Greg catches me, and he smiles. “Thanks for not clobbering me.”

  I smile back, my hand cupping his face. “Thanks for searching for me.”

  He holds me tight, and I can feel his shoulders tremble a bit. His one hand cradles my head close to his chest, while his other hand secures my back. I can feel his lips press against my forehead softly, sending this sweet pleasure coursing through my body like a cure to all the physical pain I’m feeling at the moment.

  Greg slowly picks me up, and before I know it, I’m already inside an ambulance where the medics begin to take care of my wounds.

  I watch as Greg stands out there, refusing to be farther than a few feet from where I am. It’s cute. He gets a call, but his eyes are still on me.

  It must be the chief.

  Greg suddenly has this idiotic grin on his face as he nods. Then he thanks the chief for the excellent news. I can hear him make a report about my condition as well. Once he finishes his phone call and the medics tell me that I’ll be fine, I’m finally left alone with him. He takes a seat next to the stretcher.

  I’m sure we have a lot of things to say to each other.

  But before I can even speak, Greg interrupts me.

  “Not here.”

  Huh, why not? I believed that we’re on the same page, but I guess we aren’t.

  Instead of what I want to hear from him, or what I wanted to say, Greg tells me about the couple. Base on the phone call he had with the chief, the couple left the retreat but were captured at the airport.

  The woman had cut her hair and dyed it, and the man had shaved his head and face, but the police recognized them.

  “Wow,” I say unenthusiastically.

  “Wow? I was expecting FUCK YEAH, or something close to it,” he replies with a hint of disappointment on his voice.

  “Well, I don’t really want to think about them, Greg. Not one bit. But thanks. It’s good to know that those bastards are finally going to jail.”

  “You’re not happy,” he says to me.

  “I’m not happy.”

  Because this isn’t what I want right now. I want Greg to continue what he did earlier when he caught me in his arms. THAT’s what I want. It’s petty, sure. But I almost died, and I fought so hard to stay alive.

  When I told myself earlier that I’ll tell him how I feel, I meant it. But now that I am okay and can form the proper words, he tells me to postpone it. Of course, I’m not happy. I have enough of pretending to be friends and of keeping myself from being more than just his partner.

  “I
f that’s all, then can you leave me to rest for a bit?”

  Greg doesn’t reply.

  I want to apologize, but then he suddenly stands up and leans towards me. Then he kisses me fully on the lips. No one is around to see because the door to the ambulance is closed, and the driver is away.

  The taste of blood lingering in our kiss is weirdly erotic that my head starts spinning. It’s not like earlier, this is the good kind of lightheadedness. The type that also makes my chest feel so damn good.

  I love his kisses. So. Fucking. Much.

  He pulls away, and I lean in, wanting more. But I stop midway when I see his eyes and watch his mouth move to say—

  “Hey!” The back door opens as one of the back-ups with Greg peeks in. “We want to go out for some drinks, you guys should come.”

  By this time, Greg is back in his seat. A smile lingers in my lips as I think of having more of this.

  Soon.

  Sixteen

  Greg

  We go out to get a drink to celebrate the capture of the bad guys. You'll think it's these guys with us that went through all the shit to get the criminals with how they celebrate. I actually don't mind. No. I actually don't care.

  Kylie is just quietly celebrating with one beer. Our eyes meet from time to time, each of us thinking of the last kiss we shared in the ambulance before we were interrupted.

  She's thinking about it too. I just know.

  My finger rubs the glass of my untouched drink. Our colleagues are so wasted they don't really notice anything anymore. At times, I just feel like these guys will go out for drinks with every chance they get. I like to say I just want to sleep, but I don't think I can do it tonight.

  I don't even notice that a random bar girl comes and sits next to me. All I can think about are those luscious lips of my partner in the force. Kylie. She looks at me like she just heard my thoughts. Unlike earlier, she doesn't look away. Maybe I'm relying too much on our telepathy thing since I try to tell her, I want you.