Cops - A Duology (6 page)

“You’re still here.” She backed up to the doorway and watched his hand drop. “You should leave, don’t you think? I need to get back inside and make sure everything is okay.”

“I heard the judge suspended your sentence for thirty days.” His gaze was intense. “I hope that gives you the time you need to sort out your problems.”

“Yeah, my lawyer called and said something came up. He told me I wasn’t scheduled for my sentencing until next month.” She turned her head and strained to hear what was going on inside her home as she answered Dick. “It’s a lucky break, because I have family court next week.”

“Great. We should celebrate.” He leaned forward and his badge grazed her bicep.

Startled by his words, she snapped her head around and peered into his eyes. The deep green was mesmerizing. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Sure it is. I want to take you out to dinner, a movie, a walk in a garden. Whatever you’d like,” he murmured.

She was drawn to him. His mouth was so close. It wouldn’t take much to press her lips against his. What the hell? She had more than enough problems.

“That’s not how you ask my aunty out.” Calista appeared behind the screen.

Dick leaned over and stared at the child. “Really? And how should I ask her out?” he said with a chuckle.

“She likes flowers and blue gin. You’re supposed to bring her gifts.” Calista placed her hands on nonexistent hips.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He straightened and brushed a braid behind Indiana’s ear before stepping away. “I’ll see you around, Dirty. Seems I need to bring my A game.”

“Yep,” Calista piped up.

Indiana opened the screen and shooed her niece away. She turned around and Dick was halfway down the stone path.

“I’m not giving up on you, Dirty.” He winked before spinning around and trotting to his sedan. Suddenly he stopped. “I’ll call you when I have a place for Marva.” Dick disappeared around the car.

She listened as the automobile revved and watched the red taillights brighten. His words echoed in her head and she stifled the smile threatening to erupt on her lips.

Maybe one date wouldn’t be so bad.

Chapter Six

Rick parked in front of the courthouse and fed quarters into the meter.

He’d kept his word to Kevin, and found a bed for Marva in a rehab facility in Tennessee. It was a twelve-hour drive getting her there, and he fronted the funds for her to stay for thirty days. The intake specialist assured him she was eligible for financial help that would allow her to remain in treatment for the additional sixty days she would need to complete the program. When he contacted Dirty’s brother, he was assured that the papers were signed and he’d contacted the social worker to give them to her.

It took a little finagling, but he was able to work it out for Indiana so that she could assume custody of her niece and nephew.

Rick set the bouquet of yellow lilies on the hood of the car and leaned on the fender. He checked his watch. Two forty-five, and she was on the court docket for one p.m.

Concerned, he pursed his lips. He didn’t think he had missed her coming out. Granted, it took a little longer to find blue gin in the liquor store than he expected. The woman definitely had different tastes.

His cock grew rigid at just the thought of her. He adjusted his dick discreetly and crossed his ankles. There was something about Indiana Mixon.

She appeared at the top of the stairs, clutching the kid’s hands and wearing a huge grin on her face. Two men accompanied her. One he knew was her partner, and the other guy he wasn’t sure about.

Annoyance skittered through him. Why was he jealous? He didn’t help her to get accolades. He did it because he saw a woman trying to do the right thing for her family, and he wanted to provide assistance. His attraction to her was secondary. Now those kids would have a chance at a normal childhood, and hopefully, Dirty would realize that sometimes life does give you a break.

He sighed and pushed off the car. She’d told him more than once that what they shared was only a fling. She was a beautiful woman no doubt he was the only man interested in her. Now that things were working out for her maybe she’d celebrated with someone else. The last thing he needed was for her to see him.

“Hi.” The little girl trotted down the steps toward him. A few people looked his way as she waved.

“Hey there.” He lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers.

She stopped in front of him and tilted her head. “Pretty flowers. Are they for my aunty?”

Rick opened his mouth.

The child continued without giving him a chance to speak. “Her favorite color is yellow, so you did good.” She leaned in and whispered. “Did you get her favorite drink? She always smiles after having a little of bit of it.”

“I…yeah…” Rick was at a loss for words.

“Guess what?” The kid hopped on her toes.

“What?” He would just go along with wherever the conversation was going.

“Aunty Di is going to be me and Caivin’s new mommy!” Her tone rose with every word. “But she says it’s okay if we call her Aunty because she know we already have a mom.”

“Calista.” Dirty curled her fingers around the child’s shoulders. “I’m sure Dick is very excited to see you, but we have to go.

He bristled under the nickname she had bestowed on him. Had anyone else called him that, he would have planted their face in a wall. Indiana had privileges she wasn’t even aware of.

He swallowed the aggravation and braced his hands on the fender. “Congratulations. Your niece was just telling me you were awarded custody of them.”

“Yes, Things worked out better than I expected. I guess sometimes you just have to have faith and let things happen.”

She directed Calista toward her partner and the fellow accompanying them. “Go with Uncle Marty and Uncle Brice. I’ll be there in a moment.” Indiana lifted her head. “Marty, you and Brice go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

They slowly walked away. She twisted around to face Rick. “I wanted to ask about Marva.”

He cocked his head to the side. All he wanted to know was who the big buff blond guy was. “She’s staying a great place; the rehabilitation hospital came highly recommended. I dropped her off a few days ago.”

“Great. I wanted to take the kids to visit her.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets.

“Marva is in Chattanooga, Tennessee.” An awkward silence filled the space between them. “Look, I’m glad you got what you wanted.” He dragged the flowers across the surface of the hood.

“I thought she was local. The state would never pay for a rehab outside of its jurisdiction.” She narrowed her eyes. “Who are the flowers for?”

He tossed them through the passenger side window. “Would you believe my mother?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Dirty pulled her hands free and placed them on her hips. “It’s amazing how my brother—who has been fighting me for months about taking custody of the kids—suddenly had a monumental change of heart…or how my assault sentencing was suspended.” She started pacing and mumbling to herself. “The social worker said Kevin contacted her and gave her the documents terminating his parental rights but she didn’t initiate the original meeting. Marva can’t afford a private rehab and her parents want nothing to do with her…” Indiana stopped cold. “You!”

“Me what?” He didn’t like the gleam in her eye. “It was great seeing you, but I have some cases on my desk I know need my attention.” Rick stalked around the rear of his sedan.

“Why?” She stepped up to his vehicle and leaned on the door. “Seriously, I really want to know.”

His hand lingered on the door handle. He wanted her; there was no doubt that the taste of her a couple of weeks ago had only whetted his appetite for more.

But ever since he glanced over his shoulder and seen her lying on the ground still gripping that bat, he just couldn’t get her out of his mind. Then after reading her and her brother’s case files, he was intrigued. Dirty had kept them together since Kevin’s childhood, even when she was basically a kid herself. She was still trying to take care of her family. “I wanted to ensure that your family stayed intact.”

A horn honked a few spaces ahead of them. She turned her head and raised her arm before returning his stare. “I promised the kids a late lunch.” Dirty dragged her fingers along the hood of the car as she moved.

“I won’t keep you.” He snatched the door open.

He didn’t set out to become so engrossed with the woman. Their paths crossed—for whatever reason—and he was able to make a difference in her life. She was happy and he should be satisfied.

He wasn’t.

His gaze touched on the bottle of liquor in the brown bag resting on the passenger seat under the flowers. He could definitely drown his sorrows.

“Don’t look so glum.” She covered his hand and an electrical current sizzled between them.

He snapped his head up and peered into her chocolate eyes. She leaned over and glanced into the front seats. “So are the flowers for me?” She straightened.

“Yeah, actually they are.” His heart thudded in his chest as if he just chased a perp across the city on foot. He grasped the door to keep from grabbing her.

She eased into his space ad locked her hands around his neck. “For some reason I cannot get the taste of you out my mouth.” She yanked him toward her, pressing her mouth to his lips. Her tongue invaded his mouth. His rod grew rigid in his jeans. He wrapped his arms around her and took short steps back. She fell into his body, tightening her grip around his neck.

This was sudden, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He broke the kiss. “What about your boyfriend?” Rick looked pass the top of her head. The car was no longer in its spot.

Another honk of the horn, this time closer, drew his attention across the street. The window was down, and her partner leaned out of it. “We’re hungry,” Marty beamed. “See you at the restaurant, Dirty.”

Rick watched the car pull off. “They are leaving you.”

“They know I’m with a cop, so probably the safest place to be in the city.” She shrugged. “Join us. You helped to make the adoption possible.

“I’m confused. Who is the big guy? And why are you so accepting of what you think I did?” He ran his palms along her braids.

“There is no one else that could have helped make everything happen. Are you talking about Brice? He’s engaged to Marty. They have been wonderful helping me with the kids. Everyone has.” She wiped his lips with her index finger. “What can I say? You wore me down. It’s not like we’re trying to get married. After everything you’ve done, though, I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. Come on, Rick, share in our celebration.”

“You didn’t call me dick?” Shock threaded his tone.

She chuckled. “You’re not acting like one.” Indiana pulled away and rounded the front of the automobile.

“Is it too early to discuss breakfast?” He watched as she opened the door and picked up the items from the seat.

“Damn, you got the good gin.” She lifted her head and slid into the seat. “Let’s start with dinner.” She set the bag at her feet and pressed her nose into the bouquet.

Rick slid into the driver’s side. “Where to?”

She twisted his way. “Pizza Land. You know, that place with the puppets and video games?”

“This will be interesting.” He started the car and pulled into traffic.

“Get used to it. I have a feeling you might be around for a long time.” Indiana touched his arm.

“That’s what I’m hoping, Dirty. That’s what I’m hoping.”

Deep down, he wanted the fairytale, too, a family, the white picket fence and all the trappings that came with it. And he wanted it with the woman sitting next to him. When he’d made up his mind to help her, he’d taken the first step.

“Happy Mother’s Day, Dirty.”

“Thank you.” Her smile grew impressively larger. “For everything.” She exhaled and settled down in her seat. “I am officially their mother.”

He glanced over at her. She wiped at tears rolling down her cheeks. “I can do things the right way now.”

Rick brushed his thumb over her cheek. “So can we revisit the breakfast request?”

“Don’t be a dick, Dick.” Dirty burst out in laughter.

The End

Maybe Baby

Chapter One

The sun shone brightly and fluffy white clouds gently rolled through a picture-perfect, baby blue sky. A few trees dotted the concrete landscape adding hints of green to the otherwise sterile environment. Exhaust fumes were ripe in the air as cars zipped in and out from different drop-off areas for the various airlines.

Jethro “Andy” Andersen gazed out the passenger side window of his friend’s car, watching people scurry along the sidewalk with their luggage in tow. His pal and old partner, Rick Livingston, eased the vehicle up to the curb.

It was a great day to travel. Too bad it was family he had to visit.

Andy had his hand on the lever ready to exit the automobile before it came to a complete stop. The quicker he went back home, the faster he could get the hell out of Dodge—or, in his case, Houma, Louisiana. “Thanks for the ride, see you in a few days.” He yanked the door handle and gripped the duffle resting between his feet.

“You’re going on vacation for a week and all you’re taking is an overnight bag?” Rick glanced down at the tote and lifted his head with one brow cocked.

“I don’t plan on being gone that long.”

Rick was the closest person he had to a best friend. How did he explain that it was an obligatory trip, thanks to his grandmother’s constant nagging for him to return home? When he left Houma for the Marines, he never had any intentions of going back. After four years active duty and four years reserve, he eventually ended up in Little Rock, Arkansas, where he’d built his new life.

Ten years and he still hadn’t gone back. He left his ghosts in that town and he sure as hell didn’t want reminders of their existence. But Sadie Mae LaRue, his Memaw, was calling him home. He would swear the old woman had something up her sleeve.

“Uh-huh. Well, the weekly poker game won’t be the same without you.”

“Like you would know,” Andy chuckled, and shoved the door open. “Ever since you hooked up with the hot little tattoo artist, your attendance is hit or miss.”

“Dirty does know how to keep a man busy.” Ricked grinned wide. He became animated, emphasizing his words with hand gestures. “You should be so lucky to find a woman that special.”

Sharp spikes of pain stabbed his chest in the vicinity of his heart, creating an ache he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. Once upon a time, he thought he’d found that one woman that made him feel complete. He was wrong.

Sadness turned to frustration, and then morphed into anger. She was the reason he hadn’t gone back to Houma. To know Silacious Boudreaux was a blessing and curse. She added new meaning to the saying:
can’t live with a woman, can’t live without one
.

He tapped the churning emotions down and focused on something mundane. The card game with his fellow officers was always a welcome distraction. “Bet I make it back before the Thursday game.” Andy yanked the duffle into his lap.

“I’ll take that wager. I got a hundred bucks that says you’ll be gone all week.” His friend snorted. “Get out of here. I promised Calista and Caivin I was taking them to the zoo today. As fun as it is, I am not going to waste my day off busting your balls.”

“I got a better idea, let’s park the car in a long-term lot and catch a flight to Tahiti or Fiji.” Andy tugged the door toward him and lifted his chin in a short nod toward the road. It was better to go anywhere else than to Houma, and Rick was pretty much down for any adventure he could come up with. Hell, Vegas was never the same after their visit. Maybe he could count on his buddy one more time.

“Seriously, you have a plane to catch and I have a date with a couple of rambunctious kids whose aunt has promised me a night of unforgettable passion just because.” Rick sighed. “I don’t need a trip to any island. I already found my paradise.”

Andy shoved the door open. “Dude, you are such a pussy.” He exited the sedan.

“Now, Andersen don’t be jealous. Maybe one day if you take all your vitamins you’ll grow up to be a big, strong man…then possibly you might meet the right woman, too.” Rick peered up at him through wide eyes and he pressed his lips together.

“This is why I hate you,” Andy grumbled, slamming the door to his pal’s laughter.

He watched the sedan blend into the traffic and he sighed. A quick glance at his watch told him he was pushing it. His plane was departing in exactly two and a half hours. If he missed his flight…he could call Memaw and explain he had some problems.

Andy shook his head and spun on his heel. He had a sinking feeling that if he didn’t go to Houma, he might find his grandmother standing on his doorstep and that was infinitely worse. Over the course of his stay in Little Rock, he’d cultivated a certain image, and Memaw’s appearance would have no problem destroying it. Nope, it was best to get there and get it over with. Whatever her issue, he would handle it and be on the next flight out of swamp hell.

With a solid plan forming in his mind, Andy traversed the concourse. He might escape Houma without seeing Silacious and avoid the reopening of bone deep wounds that had barely healed. He tightened his grip on the duffle strap.

He couldn’t forget how she chose his best friend—the man he trusted with everything he held dear. He couldn’t understand it. They had a solid relationship built around a friendship that started in elementary school. Every time he imagined Dante and Silacious together, all he wanted to do was break shit.

Andy toed off his shoes, picked them up, and dropped everything in a bin at the mouth of the x-ray machine. He crossed through the metal detector. Once on the other side of the machine, he lifted his arms and turned as the TSA agent ran a secondary scan with the handheld device.

When he faced her, the cute brunette with a wicked smile winked before waving him past her. He stalked forward and collected his belongings from the plastic tub, glancing over his shoulder at the woman’s backside. She had a nice ass; too bad he didn’t have time for a little diversion to take the edge off.

The closer he came to his terminal, the tighter his chest constricted. He rubbed the spot and stopped at the little sundry store to buy antacids, trying to convince himself he had a bad case of heartburn. It was probably the cold pizza he ate for breakfast. Andy hiked the duffle straps higher on his shoulder and tore the package open, tossing a few of the tablets in his mouth. Fruit-flavored chalkiness coated his tongue.

At the gate, his tongue was cemented to the roof of his mouth and he rubbed it along his teeth to work up saliva. He needed to get a grip. The trip home had him more rattled than he cared to admit.

****

Silacious paced the luggage pickup area, wondering how she allowed Ms. Sadie to talk her into making the hour-long trip to New Orleans for an airport pickup. With the best of intentions, she had stopped to check on the old woman. Next thing she knew, over oven-warm beignets and strong black coffee, Ms. Sadie had guiled her into picking up some kin.

Silacious sighed. Sadie Mae LaRue had skills the CIA could use. She snorted. The elderly woman was sweeter than southern cane tea and older than dirt. It was one of the reasons she had a hard time telling the elderly woman no.

She met Ms. LaRue while dating Jethro, her grandson. Or maybe he was her great-grandson. Regardless, that boy had a heart for the woman, and always made it a point to check on her every couple of days until he moved into Ms. Sadie’s house after his father’s death. After he left unexpectedly to join the Marines, she continued the routine, hoping he’d come back between visits.

Almost ten years passed and he still hadn’t returned.

She’d gone on with life and made a few mistakes along the way, like marrying Jethro’s once-best friend, Dante Smith. True enough, she didn’t love Dante, but with a baby on the way…in the beginning he was kind and took her to most of her doctor’s appointments.

When he proposed marriage, she didn’t see where she had many options at the time. Jethro left before she could tell him she was pregnant, and Dante stepped up like a knight in shining armor, offering to take care of another man’s kid. Dante’s offer had one stipulation; she could never tell Jethro about their child. She countered with another condition of her own—he would love and raise Chase as his own. Seemed like a fair exchange.

As time progressed, it became more like a deal with the devil. Throughout their friendship, she’d never picked up on the signs of his possessive nature. Once Chase was born, Dante became abusive. First, it was with words. They were angry and demeaning, but for the sake of her boy having a father, she accepted his cruelty. As her son became older, Dante’s rants were replaced with slaps and—eventually—fists.

She endured the beatings. Giving Chase a home was more important than any bruises she sustained.

Then Dante turned on her son.

*

It was their anniversary. Dante stumbled home drunk, spouting gibberish about how he should have beat her baby out of her. When she retreated to the bedroom to escape his wrath, he followed her.

Stupidly, she ignored his ramblings and turned her back on him to fold laundry. That’s when he punched her in the head and sent her sprawling across the mattress.

Dante climbed on top of her. His weight bore down on her as he tore at her clothes, ripping at her jeans, and mumbling about giving her a child that he knew was his. Sour breath washed over her face, making her gasp as nausea boiled up her throat. She tried to hold her breath as she kicked and bucked to get free. The faint thud of footsteps made her struggle harder.

Chase, her nine-year-old, burst into the room yelling, and she turned her head, trying to warn her baby to run. She caught a glimpse of his bright flashing tennis shoes as Chase launched himself up on Dante’s back.

She could hear the hollow thud of her son pounding his fists against her husband’s shoulders. Dante’s weight suddenly lightened, and her kid screamed. She twisted around in time to watch in horror as Dante lifted Chase up by the collar and slammed his slim body against the door. His small chest deflated as his breath escaped him.

Anger flooded her system, and the pain Dante inflicted on her disappeared. She was off the bed and without thinking, picked up the bedside lamp, slamming it into his head. He released Chase and crumpled to the floor. She sunk her fingers through Dane’s afro and rammed his head into the wooden floor before climbing over him to get to Chase.

Her husband shook his head and struggled to get to his knees. Swiping at her back, he caught the hem of her blouse and yanked. Fabric ripped as she fought to stay upright. He got to his feet and got a better hold on Silacious. She spun around. Grasping fistfuls of his shirt, she slammed into his chest, jerking him down to her level. Silacious sunk her teeth into the top of his ear.

The metallic taste of iron flooded her mouth as blood coated her taste buds. His shrieks bounced off the walls of the miniscule room. He stumbled back and they both crashed to the floor. She didn’t hesitate.

Rushing to her feet, she scooped up her little boy lying prone in the doorway and ran for the front door. The screen door slammed behind her. Dante was close on her heels. She screamed for help, crossing patches of grass that covered the yard. She knew Dante would kill them if he caught her.

Focusing on placing one foot in front of the other, she prayed her neighbor was home. Jackson Landry, thank God, was there. When Jack stomped onto his porch with his rifle, her husband shuffled back. She collapsed at the foot of the porch in relief.

Everything after that moment became a blur. Authorities appeared, telling her she had to allow the paramedics to check her son. The boy was clutched so tightly to her chest, he whimpered against the tattered remains of her shirt and his breath warmed her skin.

People spoke quietly over her and Chase, making decisions for them as if they weren’t there. When she finally relented, she was immediately yanked up and placed under arrest for child endangerment.

Worse, she had no clue where Dante was.

*

“Hey, hey, lady, you okay?” An older gentleman gripped her shoulder and gently shook her.

Crap.
She got so caught up in her thoughts she blanked out. Fuck, did she miss seeing Ms. Sadie’s visiting relations? She forced her lips into a half smile that probably looked more like a painful grimace. “Sorry, I was thinking about something else.”

“You stood there for quite a while without moving, I thought you might be having some sort of episode.” The guy continued speaking. “Do you need me to call anyone for you?” His gray mustache pulled down as his mouth formed a frown.

“I’m fine.” She looked past his shoulders toward the escalators. Hell had frozen over or maybe it heated up. Either way, she was sure it was the second coming.

Jethro LaRue Andersen was riding down the escalator like he was gliding down from heaven to hang out with mortals. Casually, he leaned on the black bannister like he hadn’t a care in the world, and damn if he didn’t look good. His dark blond hair was close cropped on the sides of his head, leaving the top slightly longer and giving him a boyish appearance. Tendrils of curls tumbled over his forehead.

He’d filled out since she’d last seen him. Broad shoulders tapered down to a slim waist and his jeans were plastered over muscular thighs. Jethro had always been a confident teen, but he’d returned to Houma with swagger.