Chapter 25

Tony

“Our guy is in the lobby,” came over the earpiece jammed in my ear.

“Don’t move until he does, prosecutor’s office wants this air tight,” I said into the cuff of my blazer’s sleeve. I was lead on this, for better or worse, and I was nervous.

“You’re doing fine,” Yvonne said, patting my arm in the enclosed space of the back of the SUV. We were pulling up to the hotel and she pulled her floppy hat down a little further over her eyes. Her dark wig spilling down her back and the big sunglasses obscuring things even more. With the trench coat she had on, she looked like Carmen San Diego but still, I had to agree with Driller. A little make up to make her pale skin tone a little more olive and she was just about the spitting image of my Chrissy.

“Okay, we’re pulling up to the curb now, be ready,” I ordered.

Our driver, another detective from the 12th, pulled up smoothly in the roundabout drive to the hotel. The media was already pressing in at all sides with uniforms holding them back, and I popped open the back door of the SUV in front of the twin sliding glass doors leading into the hotel.

I got out first, back to the camera flashes, a pair of aviator sunglasses on my face to deal with the bright lights. Yvonne slid out awkwardly behind me, her arm in a sling, and I helped her down. She huddled convincingly, shying away from the shouting reporters and I heard her say, “God, how does she put up with it?” just loud enough for me to hear.

“I don’t know,” I answered, and hustled her into the atrium, past the first set of doors; a couple of uniforms closing ranks behind us, to keep the reporters at bay.

We marched purposefully through the next set of doors and that’s basically when the shit hit the fan. When violence erupts, everyone thinks that things slow down, and that it feels like you have all the time in the world to respond, but that’s bullshit. We heard the shout, saw him come in from our left and he was just suddenly there, gun pointed at Yvonne.

My gun was out, there was a metric ton of shouting, and just about every plain clothes officer and Yvonne had one pointed at the dude. Sure enough, he’d made a play, and I was looking at the same guy we’d chased in the hospital, gray hoodie under black leather jacket, he stared at us wild eyed, way too much white showing around them, gun shaking like a leaf in his hands, as Yvonne and I moved as a practiced unit turning, him falling right into play, so that his back was to the front desk and ours was at the base of the broad staircase.

We had ballistic vests on, the reporters crowding the entryway outside the glass doors didn’t. We hadn’t thought the guy would make a play right there in the lobby, in front of so many witnesses, but then again, we hadn’t gambled on how frustrated and angry Chrissy’s eluding him up to this point had made him.

Where did he get the fucking piece!?

That was my first thought, even though my mouth was following procedure screaming “ICPD! Down! Put the weapon down!”

“She’s gotta die!” he screamed back, “You don’t understand!”

At which point Yvonne whipped the hat and the wig off of her head and the guy froze.

“No, no, no, no, NO!” he screamed, spittle flying from his lips, wild eyes gone even wilder. “You can’t take this from me!”

Now the world slowed, he raised his gun with purpose and a surge of adrenaline hit me, “No!” I screamed but it was drowned out by a cacophony of gunfire, my own weapon belching smoke and flame as I pulled the trigger to save not just myself, but Yvonne next to me, but I didn’t want to do it. I don’t think any of us did, still… talk about clear and present danger.

Dude’s chest erupted in arcs of rich, dark, red and he lifted clean off his feet, up and arched back before he slammed to the white tiled floor. I went forward automatically, Yvonne moving with me on his opposite side.

I kicked the Ruger out and away from his body, and it went skittering across the tile where it was stopped precisely under another officer’s boot. I didn’t pay attention much beyond knowing the weapon was secure, dropping to my knee beside the guy. I checked for a pulse and he still had it.

“Why, you dumb motherfucker?” I demanded angrily and he turned his head, choking, Yvonne screaming to call a bus, another voice, indistinguishable from the ringing in my ears, but clear enough to know it was on the radio, barking orders.

The fucker on the ground bleeding out said, “Made you do it… nothing left anyways.”

Shit.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Yvonne muttered and sat back on her heels.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

“Get a bus! Somebody get that bus right now!”

“Start, CPR,” she stripped off the coat and pressed it to his chest and we started giving CPR the best we could, but it was futile. Angel was one of the responding paramedics and took over, shining a light in the guy’s eyes while his partner set up the new machine that did compressions for you.

“No good,” Angel said. “Get him up on the gurney anyways. As far as those reporters know this guy still has a heartbeat and he doesn’t need to die on the evening news.”

They hustled smoothly, just as if the guy was still breathing, not even missing a beat and I grunted, “Thanks. He has a family, somewhere…” remembering what the first letter had said.

“No problem, Youngblood.”

They hustled him out and took off with him, the siren wailing off into the distance. I’d stood up and stared at all that blood on the floor.

Wasn’t the first dead body I’d seen. Just the first one I’d made that way.

“Investigators are on the way,” Yvonne said and I nodded.

“Anyone wants their PBA reps, that’s their right, but this was a clean shoot,” I called. Still, I knew I was calling mine. It was time for all of us to cover our asses.

It was going to be a long night full of paperwork for all of us.

***

I rapped out the code knock on the door to the room that held my woman for real something like way too many hours later. She only had about three hours left before her court appearance and I wasn’t about to let her go that alone. I could maybe catch an hour or so with her before we had to get up and ready for the day… still, after Narcos and Driller let me in, and I caught sight of her through the open bedroom door, my body had other ideas about things than sleeping.

“You alright?” Driller asked.

“Yeah,” I muttered, eyes glued to her shape beneath the covers just about twelve feet away or so.

Narcos huffed a sardonic laugh, “I did the same thing after I killed my first guy.”

That tore my gaze away from her, and I looked up at him frowning, “What?” I demanded.

“Fucked. Found the nearest bitch willing to put out and kept her under me for a day or two.”

“Charming,” Driller said smiling, “but also, a natural reaction. Just do us a favor and close the door.”

I scowled at the both of them but Narcos stopped me with a hand on my shoulder, “Neither of us are making light of the fact you just had to kill a man, brother. I’m just a dick and don’t know how to put things… All I’m saying is doing something life-affirming afterwards is a normal thing.”

He gave me a little shake back and forth and pushed me toward Chrissy. Driller said, “She doesn’t know, we didn’t tell her. We didn’t want her to worry any more than she was, but don’t get it twisted, bro… she’s worried. Didn’t think you’d call but still, figured the not knowing was better than telling her you’d traded bullets with the perp.

I shook my head, “He didn’t get a shot off, but there was no question. Investigation is still ongoing but we all know better. It’ll be declared good. There’s plenty of video footage of it. Media was right outside rolling on the whole thing.”

“Good, that’s good,” Driller nodded.

“Yeah, at least they were good for something,” Narcos agreed darkly.

“You sure you’re okay, brother?” Driller asked and I nodded.

“I’ll be okay, man. Already have my appointment booked with the department shrink.”

“Yeah, the modified desk duty is a bitch,” Narcos complained. “Leaves you too much time to think about it.”

I nodded. That was honestly my biggest fear at this point, that I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it.

“Thanks guys,” I said one more time and the hand fell away from my shoulder. I went into the room with Chrissy and closed the door behind me. I stood at the foot of the bed for a long time, just looking at her.

She was on her back, left arm lying across her stomach, on the blankets which had been pulled to her chest. Her long dark hair fanned out behind her head along the pillow. Her face was turned towards the window and the bluish light from the cityscape outside fell across her features turning her already angelic features, slack with sleep, into something downright ethereal.

She was beautiful in that way that made my chest squeeze down tight, and after the ugly that’d gone down at the Hyatt, her beauty damn near brought tears to my eyes. I couldn’t deny that I was in love with her. Not to myself, and I didn’t want to. I just wanted to figure out a way to cement her as a permanent piece of my life.

I carefully and quietly stripped down and pulled the blankets away from her, climbing into the bed. She startled awake, drawing a deep and even breath as her dark eyes flew open and she turned, adjusting her body so that I could more easily access her, she reached for me and I nudged her knees apart with my own. She parted her thighs willingly and drew me down to her.

“I was so worried,” she breathed and kissed me and I didn’t want to speak. I didn’t want to tell her what I’d done, just yet.

She wrapped her legs around my hips and my cock nestled against her bare sex. She moaned into my mouth, a light breathy sound and writhed slightly, sliding her body up and down against mine.

We kissed and dry humped like a couple of teenagers in the back seat of the car for who knows how long. All I can say is it was an amazing feeling, and there wasn’t anything dry about her when I went to slip inside of her.

I broke the kiss and made sure she was looking at me when I did it, telling her exactly how I felt, telling her, “I love you,” as I sank into her slowly.

She held to me tightly, her hands drifting to my face, holding me there so she could look back, searching for something, what I didn’t know, but I could see the flood of her own emotions filling her dark eyes as she raised up to kiss me, before drawing back and murmuring, “I love you, too.”

I drew back and thrust forward, a little more intense than I’d ever taken her before, but she didn’t seem to mind. Instead, she drew me down on top of her, nipping my shoulder lightly, her thighs tightening around my hips, her hand drifting down my body and gripping my ass, pulling me deeper.

I let the fog of love, lust, and pleasure take over as I set a strong and steady rhythm to my strokes and we just stayed like that, working each other’s bodies, trying to stay considerate and quiet for the guys outside. Her moans soft, her gasps rich and like music to my ears. I worked her up, taking her higher and higher with me until finally I reared up and seating myself deep, played her clit with the pad of my thumb.

She couldn’t keep entirely quiet when she came, but that was okay. I didn’t need her to, and it was kind of nice letting the guys outside know that she was mine.

There wasn’t anything else I prized more at this point than my ability to make her make sounds like that and it so moved me, I wasn’t far behind her, pushing my shirt she had on out of the way, pulling from her body, and coming in jet after hot, white jet over her flat and toned stomach with it’s adorable, slight little pouch, right over the top of her pubic bone.

God, she was beautiful, and I knew it’d only been a few weeks, but I hoped she would be able to score another morning after pill, because while I wanted children at some point, with this woman, if she didn’t, I would be okay with that, too. It was her body, and I just loved that she gave me the honor and privilege to play with it, and her, like she did.

I bowed over the top of her, pressing our bodies together, sticky with my come, and didn’t care. I kissed her mouth, her chin, the side of her neck and growled beside her ear, “I want to grow old with you.”

She gasped lightly and drew my face up to look at her, “I’d like that,” she murmured, but she was frowning and I could see it was with concern. Then she asked, “Tony, what’s wrong?”

I swallowed hard, chickened out, and tried to deflect, asking “Why do you ask?”

She traced gentle fingertips along my cheek and came away with moisture, showing me and whispered oh so quietly, “You’re crying…”

I jerked back and swiped a hand over my face and sure enough. I bowed my head and laughed a bit brokenly and took a deep breath and let it out.

“Tony, what happened?” She asked gently. “What’s wrong, you’re starting to scare me.”

I shook my head and let myself be true with her, scared of the consequences, but I should have known I shouldn’t be… “Curtis Wetmore is dead,” I told her. “I had to shoot him. I didn’t want to, but when he realized it wasn’t you, he’d pulled on us and he was going to shoot. They’re calling it suicide by cop… I killed him, Chrissy.”

“Oh my god,” she breathed and pulled me down to her. She held me, not just with her arms but wrapping her legs around me too. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry…” she breathed and I just buried my face in her hair by her shoulder, pressed my lips against the soft skin where her shoulder met her neck and let her take care of me… because I know guys are supposed to be strong all the time, but we sometimes needed these moments, too.

Chrissy delivered in the way only she could. Holding me close, making soothing sounds, and just being her. Warm, beautiful, understanding, and nurturing. She held me and loved me despite the terrible thing I’d just done and it was precisely what I needed.