Forged Under Blue Fire: Indigo Knights Book VIII

by A. J. Downey

  He got up and made to come over and I frowned at him. “It’s not done yet! You can’t come look.”

  “Sor-ry! I’m gonna head over to the food trucks and get us something to eat, you know what you want?” he asked.

  “Surprise me,” I answered distractedly, working on some edge of sky.

  “Copy that,” he said and wandered off.

  He came back with an overloaded Cuban sandwich, which of course was to die for. I stopped long enough to eat, suddenly famished and asked, “What time is it, anyway?”

  “Something like two o’clock,” Oz declared.

  “Oh, wow. No wonder I’m hungry.”

  “Yeah, but are you happy, though?”

  “You know what?” I said. “I am. I really am.”

  He smiled down at me and leaned over, stealing a kiss. I giggled lightly and said, “No peeking, yet.”

  “Alright, alright. You better hurry up though. I want a dance with my woman before I have to go back on shift.”

  “I think that can be arranged,” I murmured.

  I finished eating and Skids and Coco swung back by. Coco tucked a flower behind my ear and offered to watch my stuff for me while Oz and I took a spin around the dance floor. I thanked her and for a while it was just Oz and me.

  “You having a good day?” he asked.

  “A very good day,” I agreed. “Sorry if I’m so boring.”

  “Nah, you’re never that. I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

  “It’s a beautiful culture and the vibes are really good, everyone is super proud of their heritage and so willing to share it with the rest of the community. It’s a really beautiful thing that’s going on here.”

  “The Cuban people are a passionate and resourceful people,” he said.

  “Absolutely, and it’s really carried over and showcased here. I mean, one of the cars I passed earlier? I heard them talking about how it didn’t have an engine when the guy bought the shell, and so he improvised and adapted a boat motor to power it when he couldn’t find one.”

  “Ah, yeah, just like they do back home,” Oz said.

  “Are you originally from Cuba?” I asked. Realizing we had never talked much about his early childhood.

  “Naw, I was born in Virginia. My mom, she was American. It was my pops who was from Cuba. His parents were smart and jumped ship with him before things got real fucked up. He and my mom were high school sweethearts.”

  “Were?”

  “Yeah, he died when I was sixteen. Knifed on the way home from work over five dollars in his pocket.”

  “Oh, my God! I’m so sorry.”

  He made a dismissive face. “Don’t be. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my pops, but he was a flawed man. Drank too much and sometimes hit my mom. Ah, boy. She’s an iron lady, my mom.”

  “Yeah?”

  “A house with two teenage girls and a teenage son, husband murdered, cut down to only one income overnight? Yeah. She didn’t take no back talk from none of us, I’ll tell you what.”

  He chuckled.

  “What?” I asked, a slow smile spreading my lips at his expression. He’d thought of something in particular, it was plain to see.

  “Right, so my mom is short, only something like five foot three, right?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “So this one time, when I was like seventeen, I was at the kitchen sink and I can’t remember exactly what I said, but I was back talkin’ her somethin’ fierce. We were arguing about something dumb – I really can’t remember, but she –” he started laughing and I smiled bigger, patiently waiting him out.

  “She pulled the stepladder over and got up on it and man, that slap came down from outer space – pow! Right across my cheek, like handprint raising up and everything. And she gets down off that stepladder and was like ‘good, now go put some Vaseline on that and get your little ass out to that school bus on time boy, or I’m gonna make you walk.’ She was not playin’.”

  “Oh, my God!” I choked on a laugh picturing the whole thing.

  “Yeah, it’s pretty funny now, wasn’t so awesome back then. Man, all them kids made fun of me that mornin’ and I gotta say, I deserved it.”

  “That’s crazy!” I declared. “My mom would have never dreamed of doing something like that, although I’m pretty sure Mia and I more than earned something like that a few times.”

  “See,” he spun me out and back in, “that’s the difference from ol’ white folks families and black folk. Black folk just don’t care. You earn an ass whoopin’ you gonna get your little ass whipped. Southern mommas like my momma, they just don’t play.”

  “I’d imagine not,” I said. “Especially becoming a single mother so suddenly like that.”

  “True. Right up ‘til then, it’d always been my dad to hand out the punishments.”

  “Sounds like your mom was doing the best she could.”

  “Oh definitely, she was. Ain’t nobody denyin’ that. I got nothin’ but mad love and respect for my mom. She’s downright amazing.”

  “I can’t wait to meet her someday,” I said.

  “My sisters drive me nuts, but there ain’t no reason we can’t ride down on some weekend soon.”

  “Weather is supposed to start turning, soon,” I mentioned.

  He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “So, we rent a car for the weekend. Ain’t no big deal.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” I said. “That’s not a bad idea.”

  The song ended and we broke apart to politely applaud. The next number was much faster, and I begged off.

  “Sure, you want I can get you something to drink?”

  “That would be amazing, see you back over by my painting?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right over there.”

  “Okay, cool.”

  He gave me a quick kiss and I smiled, drifting through the crowd back the way we’d come. I was just nearing the electrical box when I heard my name, “Elka! Elka Köhler!”

  I sighed in frustration and turned, scowling hard as Anthony Rivers, the blogger who had accosted me at work came trotting up.

  “Looks like you went out of town last weekend,” he said with an oily smile.

  “In case you hadn’t noticed it was in an attempt to avoid you,” I said dully.

  He smirked and I frowned harder.

  “Can’t run forever,” he said.

  “Don’t have to talk to you, don’t want to talk to you, how about you just leave me alone?” I demanded.

  His grin turned nasty and I rolled my eyes. Hopefully Oz would get back to me sooner rather than later.

  33

  Oz…

  I heard the slap as I was threading through the crowd, halfway back to Ellie. There was a universal ‘Oooooh’ from the onlookers and so you know that had to hurt. I sighed and didn’t even imagine it could have been her but then I heard her voice rising in anger.

  “I’ve asked several times to be left alone by you and now I’m telling you! Leave. Me. Alone! I don’t want to talk to you. I won’t answer any of your rude, sexist, and inappropriate questions – take the hint and fuck off!”

  A cheer went up as I pushed through the crowed and some dude was standing back from Ellie, a tape recorder in one hand and the other pressed to the side of his face. The crowd was cheering, and Skids was holding Ellie back, a couple of the uniformed officers on OT blocking the side streets were coming up in tow behind some kid someone had sent their way for backup.

  Shit. One of ‘em was Bartle, a Blue Templar and a real fuckin’ asshole.

  “What’s going on here?” he demanded as the crowd parted, and he stepped up behind Ellie.

  He took a look at dude as she turned to me. I passed my drinks off to some random chick who was a bystander and went to my girl. Ellie immediately huddled against me, miserable.

  “Did she assault you?” Bartle asked the dude and the dude made a great show of wobbling his jaw back and forth and nodding miserably.

  Bartle brought
out the cuffs. “Whoa, hey now – that ain’t really necessary is it?”

  “No! You need to arrest that guy! He put his hands on her first!” a feisty little Cuban lady with a heavy New York accent barked. “She was just defending herself!”

  Ellie held to me tighter as a real dustup ensued. A bunch of the bystanders all started talking at once as I put heads together with Skids and asked what the hell had happened. He said he didn’t know, he was over by Ellie’s paints, on his phone, when the shit went down. The feisty New York Cuban honey gave me the rundown, said dude had grabbed Ellie’s wrist and shoved his recorder in her face, said a bunch of shit that would make her mamma blush and Ellie had been cringing back from him and finally lost it. She’d open-handed slapped the creep and the rest I already knew – sort of.

  “He’s the reporter that came to my office,” she mumbled miserably, tears streaming down her face.

  “Shit.”

  Yale was here, and he was arguing with Bartle who had his hands up.

  “That’s not my job,” he said. “She hit him, that’s assault, the rest is all up to you guys.”

  Yale had his hands on his hips, staring at the cracked asphalt, a scowl on his face as he thought furiously, but I could see the way this was about to go from a mile off. Bartle, the fucking prick.

  “Coco, go find Chrissy,” I ordered and Coco bobbed her head and trotted off without a second glance in search of the former defense attorney who, until she’d flipped sides, had been the best in the business. Skids was on the same page as me, nodding as he ran through the series of events over the phone.

  “Baby, these here officers are gonna arrest you,” I said calmly and Elka’s eyes went wide as she stared up at me. “Don’t you say anything to anyone about nothing, you hear me?”

  She nodded her head a little too fast.

  “I mean it. Nothing at all, to anyone. You wait for me or Chrissy. You understand me?”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice mournful as Bartle hooked her up. She jumped and winced as he slapped the cuffs on her and I scowled.

  “Hey!” I barked. “Take it easy, man. Jesus.”

  “I don’t tell you what to do with perps once I hand ‘em off at the jail, Jones. You don’t tell me how to do my job out here,” Bartle grated. He was spoilin’ for a fight, but I wasn’t about to give it to him.

  Elka looked back over her shoulder looking lost as they led her up the street. I looked back at Yale who thrust his chin at me and said, “Go, I’ll cover.” I nodded and trotted up the street after my girl, Chrissy materializing out of the crowd blocking the path of the two dipshits that had her in custody.

  One of the off-duty cops was getting a statement from the motherfucker she’d clocked, Skids standing by and listening to everything.

  “You’ll get your chance at her in the courtroom prosecutor.”

  “You mean I’ll get my chance at you, officer. I’m Ms. Köhler’s defense attorney. Elka, as your attorney, I am advising you to speak with no one.

  “Okay,” Elka said, fresh tears leaking from her eyes. Backdraft and Lil appeared behind me, flanking me to either side.

  “Come on,” Lil said grabbing my elbow. “I’ll get her bail.”

  “Thank you,” I breathed. I didn’t know how I was gonna swing that. “You’ll get it all back, I promise.”

  “I don’t have to worry about that, Oz. Let’s just get her out before she has to go through too much of the process – I mean, I’m not sure how all that works.”

  How it worked, was for a simple assault like this, was she would get booked, wait around a while, and a judge would review and set a bond amount remotely. We paid and she got bonded out before she even had to hit the orange overalls.

  Lil ordered up an Uber and we got to the jail pretty quick. Just as Bartle was pull in’ out the garage, waving at me through the windshield as he turned to go back to his post. I was straight fuckin’ steamed but couldn’t do shit about it. It was up to the arresting officer’s discretion after all, problem was, Bartle didn’t fuckin’ have none. I was looking forward to the day he passed through my jail under arrest for the dirty dealings I know he had a hand in. It was only a matter of time.

  Let Karma sort that motherfucker out.

  Lil and I trotted down into the garage and went into intake. Miller looked up from behind the counter and frowned.

  “What’re you doing here?” he demanded, and I felt my shoulders sag with relief.

  “Could ask you the same thing.”

  “I got a kid in college, I’m pulling all the OT I can get.”

  “Wish I was here on a social call,” I said thrusting a chin past him where Elka was being printed.

  “Some dumbass reporter got all up in my girl’s face, scared the shit out of her, she slapped the holy hell shit out of him and Bartle brought her in.”

  Miller hung his head, letting it bounce on his shoulders twice. He sighed.

  “You know the grind,” he said and I nodded.

  “Lil and I are here to post bail as soon as you got a number,” I said.

  “I got you. Why don’t you both have a seat over there, I’ll see what I can do about expediting the process a little – for real,” he added as a distracted afterthought.

  “What did he mean by that?” Lil asked.

  “Usually when we tell a person comin’ in we’re gonna expedite the process for ‘em what we really do is drag our feet. Depends on how much of an asshole they’re bein’.”

  “Charming,” she said with a smile.

  “A lot of these motherfuckers don’t seem to get we ain’t a concierge service. We protect and serve the people out there, you get in here it’s not supposed to be a trip to club fed. Ain’t no camp cupcake up in here. You pass through those doors in cuffs, it’s game over. You runnin’ with the big dogs, now.”

  Lil put a hand on my back and rubbed it back and forth comfortingly, giving me a side-hug squeeze.

  “I know you’re worried about her, but I’m sure everything is going to be fine. Just make sure to give her a lot of extra love when she gets out. Take her home, draw her a hot bath, and make her some tea or something.”

  “You’re the boss,” I told her, and she kind of was – at least when it came to the romantic shit. It’s how she made her bread and butter, after all. Writin’ all them damn books of hers, getting movies made out of them. It’s why I didn’t think twice or even sweat it when she offered up to pay Ellie’s bond, whatever it was. Lillian Banks made bank. She had enough to spare and then some and probably wouldn’t even miss it while it was gone.

  We waited for two hours before Miller came to call us back and knowing how things worked, that was fast as hell. It still took too damn long for my tastes. Ellie sat in the DMV style rows of chairs, handcuffed to the metal frame work on one side as was protocol, twisting in her seat to follow me and Lil with her eyes, expression softly pleading.

  I gave her a nod, promising with my gaze that I would be getting her out of here in no time.

  Her bond was two-fifty. Not bad at all. Lil paid it with cash from her wallet and we were led back out to wait in the lobby. Around fifteen minutes later, Ellie was buzzed out the security door and she flew right into my arms.

  “Not how I ever pictured seeing you at work,” she mumbled against my chest and she shuddered in my arms.

  “I know that’s right,” I said disgusted.

  “I have my court date,” she turned her head so she could look at Lil and said, “Thank you for bailing me out.”

  “No problem,” Lil declared. “Just don’t leave the state,” she said with a wink.

  Ellie sighed. “That’s just what I want to do right now. I never should have lost my cool. I’m so embarrassed.”

  “Come on, let’s get out of here,” I said.

  We went out and hoofed it up to street level. Once there, Lil ordered up another Uber to take us back to the festival where I could get my bike and Ellie could get her stuff. Skids said it was at the v
endor booth with the guy selling paintings.

  “Listen, you ain’t got nothing to be embarrassed about,” I told her when the car pulled up.

  “Except that makeup,” Lil chimed in. “Get in the car and we’ll get you fixed up.”

  “Oh, God!” Ellie cried, sniffing and patting her cheeks. “I must look awful.”

  “A little bit,” Lil agreed. “Nothing we can’t fix, though.”

  Lil fussed over Ellie in the back of the Uber, cleaning up her face with makeup wipes from her purse and giving her some fresh powder, eyeliner, and mascara to even things out. By the time we pulled up to the festival, Ellie was mostly back together, and the sun was sinking below the horizon, casting long fingers of shadow as it dipped behind the buildings.

  We got out at the main entrance, Yale and Youngblood at the barriers, welcoming us back with glad cries. The rest of the Knights were comin’ up the way between the classic cars that were left. Owners still lingering and talking, some closing up their hoods and doors getting ready to take off.

  “Thank you!” Lil called back to the driver as he waved us off.

  Ellie tucked herself into my side and I put an arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her hair which was coming undone without her bobby pins to hold it. They’d been taken at the jail. Protocol.

  “How you doing?” Skids asked us.

  “Embarrassed,” Ellie muttered and wouldn’t really look at him.

  Skids sniffed. “No need to be, not after what he said to you. We got it all on video and his own recording is apt to dime him out.”

  “Really?”

  “Yup. This is a slam dunk,” Chrissy said, and she straight had her barracuda game face on. “You got a court date?” she asked.

  “One of them.” Ellie handed over her sheaf of discharge paperwork from the jail and Chrissy started to immediately devour them, her eyes rushing over the lines of text in a thorough read-through.

  Yale sighed. “It’s out of my hands on prosecution on this one. I have to recuse myself for obvious reasons – there was no guarantee it would have landed on my desk anyway.”

  “You’re just a cog in the machine like any one of us, man. Don’t sweat it,” I told him.