Leaving her was torture. I had such plans for today. Teasing her relentlessly among them. Getting her nice and frustrated until she begged for it. So many times last night I almost caved. As I pleasured her with my mouth and my fingers, it took every fiber of my being not to slip right inside her.
If I hadn’t gotten the call that I’ve been waiting for, I wouldn’t have lasted another hour with this game I’m playing. I can’t get enough of her, but I want to follow through with my original plan. When I finally have her, I want her to know it’s not just mindless fucking.
Until I see her later, it’s time to focus on Smyth. The homicide detective on Ella’s mother’s case is in New York on a personal matter. His name is Will McGee. We haven’t been able to connect yet except for a brief initial phone call. He called and asked since he was here if I preferred he come in to speak to me in person. Of course, I had to drop everything to see him. I need to see where he is in the investigation. I plan on giving Farley the facts tomorrow and having McGee handing over the case file today is great luck.
Search warrants were issued for Smyth’s residence and offices at each of the three gyms. From what I’ve been told so far, files, flash drives, laptops, and hard drives were all seized. Frank’s cellphone was found in Smyth’s personal safe at home. The last call Frank made was to Smyth, the same night of his disappearance. Forensic teams shut down The Pole. Splatters of Frank’s blood were collected in the back office.
Smyth has been formally arrested and was denied bail, more so for his protection. I couldn’t give a fuck about his safety, but the fact that he is neatly tucked away in a prison cell means he’s away from Ella. Even I’m not naïve enough to believe that would stop him if he did have something to do with her mom’s murder…and if he did, why?
Once I share my findings with Farley, he will want to speak to Ella. She isn’t going to be happy that I kept all this from her. My argument is simple.
She can be stubborn. She can be difficult. She can be naïve.
Most important, I will not let anything happen to her.
I arrive at my precinct a few minutes early. As I wait for McGee, I text Ella to let her know when to come by my place. A few minutes later, she responds just as McGee is brought in to see me. He’s a nondescript middle-aged man.
“I’m glad you were available on such short notice,” he says, shaking my hand.
“Me, too. Please, have a seat.”
He sits across from me, placing his briefcase on the table. “I try to keep Ms. Parker informed as much as possible. I’m afraid there isn’t much we know. Understandably, Ms. Parker’s recollection of the night has been patchy and not very helpful. The murderer wore gloves, as well as a facial covering. The only identifying marks that Ms. Parker saw was his tattoo. Her neighbor, Mr. Roland, scared him off by firing two shots when he got into the house. He saw the suspect from behind as he fled out the back door. He was large, of big build, probably six two or three.”
He hands me a thin file, too thin. The desire to find this prick boils my blood. I open it, and it takes me less than a minute to read the fact sheet.
The victim was Virginia Parker, age forty-two. She was born in Danbury, New Hampshire, population just over one thousand people. On the ninth of September in 1990, she delivered a baby girl, Ella Regina Parker, at New London Hospital, Danbury, New Hampshire. From the year Ella was born until she was nineteen, they moved eight times. Virginia was a medical assistant, mostly employed by pediatricians. Final residence at the time of her death was Shirley, Massachusetts with a population of six thousand.
I purposefully choose not to delve deeper into the file. I want to comb through it once McGee leaves.
“Do you mind if I make a copy of this?”
He shakes his head. “That’s yours.”
“Thank you.” I retrieve my card. “I will be sharing this with my supervising officer. His name is Agent Nick Farley.” I also hand him Farley’s card as well. “He’s currently traveling and will be returning tomorrow.”
McGee nods. “Can I ask you a question? Does Ms. Parker know you contacted me?”
McGee knows I’m seeing Ella, he knows I’m a narcotic’s cop who’s investigating a drug trafficking case with connections to a murder case. He knows that the suspect has the same tattoo that Ella saw on the murderer. Otherwise, he knows nothing else.
“No. I didn’t want to upset her. I will be telling her soon, once I speak to Farley. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t share that information with her.”
“Sure thing.”
He leaves after promises are exchanged to keep each other informed.
I sit staring at the fact sheet for a very long time. Filled with dread, I robotically flip the page to reveal the photo on file of Ella’s mother. It must have been recent. Her resemblance to Ella is uncanny. The photo of the crime scene is horrific, as are the evidence photos taken throughout her house. When I flip to the photo of Ella from that night, my fist clenches in rage. Her injuries make her unrecognizable.
A newfound appreciation swells for Andrea. Ella had no one. She was left alone, broken, and forever damaged. If Smyth isn’t responsible, I will find who is.
It’s true that the probability he’s connected is slim to none. I just can’t shake the unsettled feeling I have. I looked right into his face when he saw Ella. There isn’t a doubt in my mind he recognized her. It could very well be that he saw her at the gym. I’ve even considered the fact he liked what he saw, and the look that flashed across his face wasn’t recognition, but instead lust. That would be a valid argument if Ella hadn’t also reacted so strongly.
While I have the interrogation room to myself, I dial Rob’s number. I need to fill him in before we meet up at the briefing tomorrow. I can’t handle both he and Ella being mad at me for keeping information from them.
He answers on the first ring. “What’s wrong?”
He knows I wouldn’t be calling if there weren’t a good reason. “Are you sitting?”
“Crap, I hate when you start with that question. Yeah, I’m sitting.”
“Good. I have a lot to tell you.”
I watch her with amusement as she looks around my apartment. The beaten image of her from that horrific night keeps flashing in my mind, and I keep pushing it away. With the facts I know, I’m able to view the entire incident from start to finish as if I was hovering above. It’s so vivid and so real that it feels as if I were in the room watching the whole thing unfold. It brings me to a very dark place.
I try replacing the visuals with visions of her beautiful, naked body beneath me, her waking up beside me in my bed tomorrow, and of her sitting at my table having a relaxed breakfast in the morning. It works for a while, and then the darkness comes back.
She lifts a photo of Jonathan, Beth, and me. “You look alike,” she says while smiling at it. “How long ago was this?”
“It was taken just before I left for New York, about eight years ago. He was still a scrawny teenager then. We look more alike now.”
“Another heartbreaker on the loose?” She teases before asking, “Is this your aunt?”
“Yeah, that’s Beth.”
“She’s very pretty. Does she have a family?”
I wipe my hands and walk over to where she stands. “Jon and I were her priorities. Once Jon left for school, she finally started to focus on herself. She is now living with her long-term boyfriend, and she’s very happy.” I study the picture. She doesn’t resemble my mother much except for the hair coloring. “My aunt missed out on so many opportunities because of us,” I say out loud. “If she didn’t have to drop her life to come be with us, she’d no doubt have a house full of kids somewhere, right now.”
Ella’s eyes fill with compassion. “Ben, I’m sure she doesn’t regret her decision.”
More darkness fills my thoughts.
“Ready to eat a very mediocre meal of overcooked spaghetti and jarred sauce?”
“Sounds yummy. I can’t wait.”
Conversation is light, and the topics are pretty general. She tells me of her job responsibilities and what a typical day is like working with Andrea. She mentions Razzo and a chill runs up my spine. I completely forgot she and Andrea were handling his account. That fact wasn’t significant before the incident with Smyth.
“Do you meet with Razzo often?”
“Twice so far.” She picks up her wine glass. There’s a faraway look in her eyes. “He’s a nice older man. Very dedicated to the success of his gyms. I can’t believe someone of his generation thought up the Social Workout concept.”
I desperately want to tell her everything. I want to fill her in on the Politto case, the meeting with McGee, and on Razzo’s connection to the mob. I also want to beg her to please never leave her apartment, and while she’s at it, to never leave my side.
My blood pressure rises dangerously. My head isn’t here with Ella. It’s in the briefing tomorrow. I’m running through my thoughts, organizing them to ensure I don’t forget any details.
The unknown of how this is all connected is consuming me.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asks, watching me closely.
“Yeah.” I take her hand in between both of mine. I need to feel her, to connect with her as a reminder that she’s here with me. She’s quickly becoming the most important thing in my life. Is it because of her, or is it because of my superman complex and the need to protect her?
Personally, I don’t give a fuck either way.
My cell rings with a call from Jonathan. “It’s my brother.”
She picks up the plates. “Answer it. I’ll take care of these.”
“Hey, bro.”
“What’s up? I haven’t heard from you in awhile.”
“Sorry, dude. I’ve been busy at work.” Ella returns to retrieve what’s left from our meal. Before she hurries away, I catch her around her waist. She looks surprised when I sit her on my lap. “Um, can I call you back? You’re kind of interrupting me.”
She raises her brows and shakes her head. “Talk to him,” she whispers.
“Is that a chick? Is Nat there? Did you decide you miss her magic pussy?”
“Dude?”
“What? It’s a legit question. Besides, you’re always asking me who I’m banging.”
I look at Ella’s face and tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. She smiles, but the confusion is obvious in her eyes.
“Show some respect for my girlfriend.”
Shock replaces her confusion. She probably thinks I lost my mind, and I’d have to agree. I don’t care. I’ve lost it in a good way.
“Whoa!” Jon yells so loud, Ella hears him. But the shock that still registers on her face is not from my brother’s obnoxious scream. It’s from my words. “What’s her name?”
“Ella.”
“Is she hot?”
“She’s beautiful.”
“Can I talk to her?”
“Fuck off, so you can charm her? No way.”
“You know she’d pick me.” He laughs on his end while Ella fails to hide her smile. “Well, tell Ella I say hello and look forward to meeting her.”
“I will. You good?”
“Not as good as you, but yeah.”
“Okay, bro. I’ll call you in a few days.”
“Ciao,” he says. I can see his grinning face in my mind.
The minute I disconnect the call, she kisses me. “That was surprising.”
I tuck the same hair that keeps escaping from behind her ear. “Do you object?”
“No, I don’t.”
Her lips part when I skim my thumb across them. A bombardment of confused thoughts plagues me, but the one thought that excels above the others is how much I want her. It’s a desperation I’ve never felt before. It’s a must-or-else kind of feeling that I’m not familiar with. All I know is that I must have her now.
“I’ve tried to ignore how badly I want you.” I swear relief floods her features. “You too?”
“Ben, I wanted you last night.” She kisses me and adds, “Okay, I’ll be honest. I’ve wanted you since you kissed me on the balcony. When you tucked me in that night, I wanted so badly for you to come back.”
“Really? I thought you were pissed because I kissed you.”
“Well, I was.” She shakes her head slowly. “But mostly, I just wanted you.”
“Fuck, Ella. I wish I knew that.”
Her tongue swipes at her bottom lip, catching my attention.
“You do that when you’re nervous.”
“Do what?”
“Lick your bottom lip. You also twirl your hair when you’re concentrating.” I kiss her hard on her lips. “And you sigh right after I kiss you.” I kiss her again for a long while.
“Ben.” She stares at me intently. “You’re driving me crazy.”
“We haven’t started, yet.” I lift her and carry her to my room. “I hope you took a nap. Last night was just a preview.”
I gently put her down beside my bed. “All kidding aside, Ella are you ready for this?”
“Yes.”
“We can wait.”
“I don’t want to wait.” She stares into my eyes as she slowly unbuttons my jeans. “I did a lot of thinking today. I realized I can’t fight this anymore, nor do I want to.”
“I feel exactly the same.”
Piece by piece we remove each other’s clothes. By the time she drags my underwear off my legs, it feels like I can cut glass with my cock.
We stand at the foot of my bed, taking each other in. My primal instincts bubble to the surface as my inner prick tries to take control of this situation. I can’t blame it. It’s always taken the wheel when fucking a chick. It’s hard to change habits that are ingrained.
But this is Ella. She’s not a random chick who means nothing to me.
I take her hand to lead her to the bed. She follows and I can tell she’s nervous. The fucking kicker is, I am, too.