Ballistic (21 page)

I was in kindergarten the first time I could explain it. Like a whoosh when you lose your breath. I looked around and everyone was else was okay, but when my teacher spoke to Nathan again there was the whoosh. Hanging his picture up for the art show he asked her if she liked it. She said she loved it but didn’t mean it. The more I thought on it, I whooshed a lot when she spoke to Nathan. He still spelled his name backwards and the teacher said “it’s okay” and that he was smart. The whoosh came again, so I ask her if she likes my picture and she says yes and there was no whoosh.

That night
, Nathan’s mom came to the show. Nathan didn’t have a dad, I guess. He showed his mom his picture with the backwards name and she said she loved it. Whoosh.

“Mommy,” I
said, tugging on her sleeve.

“What Halina?”

“That’s Nathan’s picture next to mine,” I show her pointing. “Isn’t it pretty?’

“It is,” she
said, glancing at it. “He did a great job.” Whoosh.

“You’re lying,” I
told her. “You’re not supposed to lie, you said so.”

“I am not lying,” she
said in her mean voice “It’s not nice to accuse.”

Then,
I was even more confused. Maybe the whoosh was the truth? Being five and a half was hard. Tugging her sleeve again I point to my picture when she looked at me. “Do you like my picture?” I asked her. “I drew us. It looks just like us right?”

“Yes, Halina,” she
said, smiling. “It looks just like us.”

Whoosh.

Blinking rapidly it was all I could do not to cry. The whoosh didn’t feel good. It felt like my tummy had too much sugar in it or I was on the tilt-a-whirl. I didn’t like how lying made me feel, so I didn’t speak for the rest of the night.

Over the years I’ve watched Venessa hype the crowd from a distance, making sure I wasn’t seen. But for the first time since graduation
, we’re all together again. But I’m the only one of us who knows what’s about to go down. This is one of those situations where I’m more concerned about Max than Jules. She’ll find the opportunity in this, which is the point. I’m just making sure that happens. Jules is DEA, she’s big guns. I need her in a power position and even though it wouldn’t appear being arrested puts her in any position but fucked, it does. Even if she’s not officially DEA anymore, there is no way her team will let this stand, I’m counting on them to get her out if she doesn’t make it happen on her own first.

However, if I hinted to the guys that Jules was about to be arrested (publicly) for a dirty cops murder, Rogan and Rafe would tear the department apart while Max destroyed everything else. No, this needed to happen. I needed to see for myself how far the DPD was willing to go and plan
accordingly. While Venessa changes tracks, I look over at Jules and see she’s lit up. She’s smiling because she thinks she’s having a good time with us and leaving for a honeymoon in the morning, only she isn’t.

Anthony has Max and Rafe in the back
are discussing whatever bullshit he could pull out of his hat, while Rogan is Venessa’s sentinel.  She nods at us to take the dance floor and that’s when I hear it.

“
I Wanna Rock”

I Wanna Rock

I Wanna Rock

I Wanna Rock

Pushing each other out of the way to see who can reach the floor first, as always, it’s Jules. She’s mean when she wants to dance. Actually we all are, but Jules is
really
mean and she pokes in the kidneys which fucking hurts. As the song plays, we sing along and then it kind of overtakes me and I start really getting foul. By foul I mean working my ass. What? I have a big ass, so? Once I find a rhythm, my ass has a mind of its own. Then the chorus comes and I look up to see Venessa with her fist in the air and Rogan’s face all sorts of red. I’m guessing he’s going to need some time adjusting to the four of us. We get that a lot.

Screaming to each other
, Face Down Ass Up, That’s The Way We Like To Fuck!
We don’t miss a beat. Luke Skywalker is fucking amazing. Like you don’t know the track and practice the lyrics for moments just like this, please…

Laughing, twerking and some other white girl shit that has no name, I temporarily forget what’s going to happen until it does and when it did, it happened too quickly. Out of nowhere
, four cops surround Jules, wasting no time cuffing her. I know these cops and they aren’t rookies, not even close. Yanking her back really hard, I see her wince and immediately run to the back to keep Max away from the scene and to keep my own face hidden. Sprinting with all I’ve got, I see Macy’s long ass legs reach the door before I do. “Jonas! Max! The cops have Jules!”

Not good.

Max barrels past all of us, parting the crowd like Jesus to get to his wife. Anthony and I hang back, watching it unfold. Seeing how rough they’re being with her has Anthony holding
me
back.

“Stay
,” he orders me.

Max screams to let them near her and when they see Rogan and Rafe barely holding him back
, they allow it, sort of. Max looks so lost, asking her what to do. She tells him to call her team.  Giving Jules the look, the one that says go with it, that this has to happen, I take a deep breath while watching them drag her away. Then I look at Anthony and whisper, “And so it begins.”

She gives me that look back that tells me she gets it
, and we exit the club quietly once they drive off with Jules. We drive home quietly and when Anthony climbs on top of me in his bed a couple of hours later, I was quiet then too.

That night laying there
, if I believed in that sort of thing, I would tell you that I had a premonition. And in it, one person brought the DPD to its knees.

And that one person was me.

But I don’t believe in premonition, I believe in ammunition.

To put this to bed, I’m going to need more of it.

Looking over at him, I realize that even though the list of people I care for is small, I would move heaven and earth to protect them. Anthony Gallo is officially #1 on that list.

Because in my premonition, I lose him.

When I left Max and Venessa to fend for themselves, I assumed Halina Tomek would be a very professional woman. That would be a no. Watching her work, she rarely spoke to anyone. When she’s forced to talk she was very clipped and extremely sarcastic. The officer’s gave her a wide berth and she seems to like it that way. It doesn’t stop them from staring when she bends over, but if they want her, they certainly don’t act on it.

Probably because she would rip their heads off for trying. Venessa made her sound adventurous and mythic
, but she looks childlike and bitchy. I was going to give up, I really was. I decided I built her up in my mind and allowed it to get carried away, wanting something that wasn’t real. But last night when she wrapped up her case early, I followed her, never expecting to see her at a homeless shelter for women and children. When her truck pulled up, she hauled in her body weight in plastic bags. Looking through the side window, I saw a woman who was giving mothers a break, playing with the kids and really fucking happy.

She was laughing. She was joy in its purest form when she laughed.

Venessa said it seemed like lies physically hurt Lina and that’s why she thought she stayed mostly to herself. Looking closer, she didn’t engage the adults much, but those kids. Fuck, she loved those kids. Especially one little girl with brown hair that was attached to her. Feeling like a complete dick, I realized I misjudged her. That night when I went home, I decided the next day, I would look at her with fresh eyes.

Lina kept to herself
. I wanted to know what I could do to be the one she let in.

For a week she’s been watching every move the DPD makes. She’s using programs she shouldn’t have access to and has made a point not to answer any calls from the girls. Bottom line is, she’s even more focused now then she was before. Jules is in prison and from the sounds of it
, the good captain wasn’t letting her out anytime soon. This morning she called Bishop filling him in on what she knows and he made it very clear the team is on its way, including Jules’ boss Mack and that she’ll be out by dinner. Bishop asked her to keep feeding them intel and she’s agreed. He asked her to keep it to herself and not share with the others and she agreed with that too. How do I know this? Well, because I haven’t left her side all week. I can’t. If I did, she would waste away up here. So for now, I offer silent support, cigarettes and the occasional meal when she gets hungry. This is important. I know she has to see this through and I would do whatever it took to help her.

Hours later when her phone rings
, she lets out a small “yes” when she disconnects which tells me Jules is free. Getting her attention took some doing, but when I yanked her by the waist forcing her to straddle me, her eyes focused, and she was mine again. “Max will be happy,” I tell her rubbing her neck.

“Things will move faster now,” she says
, leaning into me. “This is the scramble. All the players trying to find their spots at once. Like duck, duck, goose, but not really.”

“You need to take a break,” I tell her
. “You did well, but it’s time to call it a night.”

“I can’t,” she argues
. “I just said it’s a scramble, we have to be diligent. I’m the goose at this party.”

“You’ll be goose,” I counter
. “After you rest.”

“But---“

“You are coming to bed, with me, right fucking now Lina,” I demand while pulling her toward our room. “I’m not doing this with you tonight, you’re benched, got it?”

“Okay coach,” she yawns into her hand
not fighting me as she undresses. “Maybe we could cuddle?”

“You want to cuddle?”

“Or not,” she whispers, climbing in next to me. “I like it, with…you.”

“We can cuddle
, Sherlock,” I whisper, pulling her to me. “I like it with you too.” When she doesn’t answer me I pull her hair back and see she’s out, mouth open and completely exhausted. Slowly removing her clothes, I take her down to her underwear, get out of bed to put them in the hamper and when I came back I can’t resist taking another photo of her. She’s clutching my pillow like she knows I’m gone, but the pillow is the next best thing. Stowing the camera in the drawer, I get back in bed when she attaches herself to me and speaks in her sleep “nie opuszczaj mnie nigdy” and I pull her tighter. She asked me to never leave her. If only she knew it wasn’t a possibility. It’s not me leaving her that concerns me, it’s her leaving me.

As I drift myself, I know it’s time to tell her the truth.

“What do you mean you don’t like baseball?” I sputtered. “Everyone like baseball!”

“No,” she
said, handing me the tickets back “Everyone does not like baseball. I especially don’t like watching the Tigers.”

“Do you know how hard I had to work the scalper with one leg over to get these bitches?”

“Lina,” she said, smiling. “I’ve never liked baseball. This was sweet of you, but the little bit of time I get with him I don’t want to spend at Comerica park.”

“Unfuckingreal,” I groan
ed. “Fine.”

“Maybe you have someone you’d like to ask?”

“Negative,” I mumble. “It’s cool, Red, no big deal.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, I’m not mad. You’re right, they’ll probably lose anyway.”

“Lina wait,” she
said, as I walked away.

“Red,” I throw over my shoulder
, “go to Max. It’s fine I get it. Tell him I said ‘sup.’”

I don’t know why I was upset. I had no right to be.
She’d tried her best to make time for me, but I thought the three of us catching a game would be fun. She wants his attention. I may not have a Max in my life, but on some level I understand it. Looking at the tickets in my hand, I approach a man sitting on cardboard and hand them to him. “Here,” I offered. “Scalp these and don’t take less than $40.00 a pop. These are third base line seats.”

“God bless you,” he
said, emphatically.

“Yeah right,” I snort
ed, walking away. God doesn’t even know I exist. Even if he did, he doesn’t work in my neighborhood.

No more breaks, now it’s crunch time. Just as I was sitting down to start making calls, Anthony comes into the room wearing a Cabrera jersey and tosses a foam finger at me. Looking at it, then back at him, I can’t figure out why I’m holding an orange foam finger in both hands. I’m still tired despite sleeping in, so I ask him what I missed.

“Detroit plays New York today,” he says
, lighting up. “Granted, they’ll get crushed, but it’s a perfect day for a game. I bought tickets which means you and I are spending the afternoon heckling the home team.”

“You bought us tickets for a ball game?” I ask
, choking up. “But I don’t have a jersey.”

“Who’s your favorite player?”

“I don’t have a favorite, but Felix Hernandez’s facial expressions are fun to watch.”

“He plays for Seattle,” he laughs
. “Okay, so who’s your favorite Detroit player?”

“I can’t answer that,” I offer
, “because I don’t have one.”

“Do you like the Tigers at all?”

“It’s not about the team so much as it is the game, I guess. I just love watching baseball.”

“Holy shit,” he whispers
, standing me up, giving me a look I can’t decipher. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Cabrera is your favorite?” I ask
, lighting my own cigarette.

“Actually
, no,” he says, laughing. “It fit and it was on sale.”

“That’s fucking funny,” I giggle
, waving the foam finger in his face.

“I’m a funny guy,” he says
, leading me around the desk.

“Are you ready for bad food, warm beer
, and my company?”

“You had me at
‘my company,’” I tell him, kissing his mouth. “Thank you for doing this. I never had anyone to go with before.”

“Well
, now you do,” he whispers, kissing me harder. Changing into more baseball friendly clothes, I meet him in the kitchen in record time. He tosses me a mitt and my confusion over it must have spoken for me.

“I like being prepared,” he says
, grabbing his keys.

“Obviously,” I laugh
, tucking it under my arm.

“It’s a lefty,” he points out
. “If you can shoot left handed, you can catch a fly ball left handed too.”

Snuggling into his side
, because I am so damn happy he did this for me, I tell him, “I can do all sorts of things left handed, Coach.”

“I know,” he says
, kissing my forehead. “Believe me, I know.”

Driving over to the park we
find a spot in the lot so the walk is minimal. It’s a weekday game, so the crowd is small. Grabbing two beers, two dogs, and some popcorn, we settle into our seats to wait for the big event. I meant it when I said I loved baseball. I love watching it, analyzing it, and wondering who will come out on top. Baseball is one of those sports where no matter how well stacked the team is, upsets happen all the time. I love watching the upset. The ‘how in the fuck did they pull that off’ games? But even though I’ve roamed these streets all my life, I’ve never been here. I always admired it from a distance and I thought I was content with that. It was a dream I had given up on.

But here I am.

It’s beautiful.

It’s electric.

And it’s real because of
him
.