Destiny Disrupted (There's Always Tomorrow Book 1) (4 page)

“Ah, now I see why you like her, you’ve always hated girly girls.” Dayne chuckles.

Vance snorts and nods. “Can't fuckin’ stand ‘em.”

“Amen, brother. So this Melina is gorgeous and strong and funny. Sounds like your perfect woman.”

“Mmm, so far. We’ll see how it goes.” Vance mumbles, trying to tone down his eagerness.

“Yeah...Tripp said that you were going to talk to the Chief today. Did you get to?” Dayne asks, changing the subject.

“Yeah.” Vance sighs heavily.

“No go, huh?”

“Nope, I'm stuck on this case. He refused to even listen to my explanation.”

“That sucks, I'm sorry man,” Dayne tells him sincerely then turns back to the TV, unpausing it. “You can do it, though; you just have to stay focused. Kinda like how I’m about to focus on her bouncing tits.”

Vance snickers then nods as he turns his attention back to the TV where the chick on the screen is getting nailed from behind. The porn star has long dark hair and the guy who is fucking her has a grip on it and is pulling her head back. The erotic moans coming out of her mouth and her bouncing tits start to turn Vance on, except that he is picturing Melina's face looking back at him in complete ecstasy.

Vance groans and runs the heel of his palm down the underside of his hard-on, closing his eyes and dropping his head back onto the couch. He can't remember the last time he had sex, probably not since his last girlfriend. For fuck's sake, that is way too long.

“I'm game if you wanna jerk off,” Dayne rasps. “Not like we’ve never done it in front of each other before.”

Vance brings his head back up to look at the TV, the chick now on her back with her legs spread wide, the guy just pounding her. “Fuck it,” he breathes and starts to unbuckle his belt.

Dayne lets out a bark of laughter and flings the pillow still sitting on his lap onto the floor, and then pushes the front of his shorts down just enough so that his erection is freed. Vance can see out of the corner of his eye that Dayne has already started on himself. He leans forward and pulls off his suit jacket, his dress shirt, and undershirt because he will be shooting his load onto his stomach and he'd rather not do that on his clothes. He places his still holstered gun on the coffee table in front of them then undoes his pants and pushes them down to the tops of his thighs. Just as he is about to take himself in his hand, something lands next to him on the couch. Vance looks down to see a bottle of lube next to him.

Vance laughs. “What the fuck?”

“I keep it in between the cushions, just in case.” Dayne shrugs.

“You're crazy, you know that?” Vance says rhetorically as he grabs the bottle.

After pouring a little lube in his hand, Vance does a once over of himself then finds a rhythm. He pictures the girl as Melina and of course, he is the guy. God, he'd love to get her naked in his bed and wrap her long hair around his fist, pulling her head back while she rides him. Vance moans at the thought. He feels his balls tighten as the tingle of his orgasm starts at the base of his spine.

“Fuck,” Vance breathes and picks up his pace, focusing mostly on the head of his cock. The scene on the screen switches to the girl on her knees in front of the guy who is jerking himself off, her mouth open and tongue out waiting for him to come. Vance comes at the same time as the dude on the screen, and he assumes by the grunt and groan that Dayne lets out, he does, too.

“Damn it, I wish that was with a woman instead of you, Van,” Dayne rasps.

Vance snorts and looks down at the mess he made on his stomach, wishing the same thing.

Chapter 4

“I can't believe those leads got us nowhere,” Shawn snaps angrily as he drops down onto his desk chair.

Vance drops down onto his chair as well, his desk facing Shawn's. He doesn’t say it out loud, but he isn't surprised that the leads got them nowhere. Whoever the killer is did a damn good job of not leaving any tracks behind. In the meanwhile, Shawn and Vance are still waiting on the autopsy and forensics reports for everything and anything found at the crime scene. Hopefully, those will give them some more to go off.

Vance rubs his face then hits a key on the keyboard to wake up his computer. Once the screen comes up, he pulls up his work email - his family knows to just email him there since that’s where he always is anyway - and scrolls through all of his new emails: junk, junk, junk, something stupid from his younger brother, Xander, junk, junk, junk, ooh, something from his sister, Mia, that has an attachment.

Vance opens the email from his sister. It reads:

My darling big brother,

Your nieces miss you terribly and want you to come see them. I'm going to have the family over for dinner on the 28th and I hope that you can make it. And the picture is all their idea. They said that you would never be able to say no after seeing it, which I hope is true because I miss you, too, Vance. I wish you would call me more often. You're just always so busy. Please try to be here for dinner on the 28th.

I love you,

Mia

Vance sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. He is getting a headache. That's two days in a row now that him being too busy has come up. Vance opens the picture and can't help but smile. He sees his nieces - Hailey who is seven and Olivia who is four - looking up into the camera with puppy dog eyes and their bottom lips sticking out in a pout. They are so right; there is no way that he can say no. Vance looks at his calendar and makes a note on the 28
th
, which is two weeks from this Saturday. He’s supposed to have the weekends off, but he usually gets called into work for one reason or another.

Vance sends a short email back to his sister saying that he is going to do everything he can to be there and to tell the girls that he loves and misses them, too. He goes back to checking his emails: junk, junk, junk, another stupid one from his brother. Then he comes to one that catches his eye.

It is from an unknown email account, and the subject line says:
I hope you're sitting down Detective Summers.
Vance frowns. His heart begins to pound, a really bad feeling sinking to his gut. He moves the cursor so that it sits over the open button, hesitating for a moment before clicking it.

The image that appears in front of him is horrifying. He cries out as he thrashes back from his desk, causing his chair to tip backward. Vance, along with his chair, crashes to the floor, causing Shawn and a few other people to shoot to their feet. He then scrambles to his feet and stumbles backward until he bumps into a wall.

Shawn rushes over to him. “Van! Are you okay?”

Vance forces the bile back down his throat, but he knows that it won't stay there for long. He lifts a shaking hand and points to his desk. Shawn's brows furrow as he turns and walks over to the desk. Vance puts his shaking hands on his shaking knees, and drops his head down and tries to breathe.

“Motherfucker!” Vance hears Shawn cry out in horror. “Oh Jesus, oh Jesus...” Shawn lets out a pained sound before the sound of him about to lose his lunch starts.

“What the fuck is going on here?” the Chief's voice echoes through the office area. “Summers? What happened?”

Boots come into Vance's line of sight, notifying him that the Chief is standing in front of him waiting for an answer. Vance swallows a few times before he answers.

“I got an email, Sir...it's a...a picture...”

“For fuck's sake, Summers, spit it out!” the Chief snaps angrily.

“The picture is of the victims - the three little girls; two are screaming while the other is being dismembered,” Vance chokes out then starts to retch. Luckily, there is a trashcan next to him. He grabs it just in time and pukes his guts up in it.

“What? Are you saying the killer contacted you?” the Chief bellows and stomps over to Vance's computer.

“It has to be from the killer. I don't know who else would take a picture like that,” Vance rasps after spitting into the trashcan and wiping his mouth.

“Holy shit,” the Chief breathes, and Vance now knows that he saw the picture, too. “Get IT in here and see if they can trace where that email came from,” the Chief orders to someone.

The IT woman spends the next few hours trying to find out where the email came from, but it is untraceable. The Chief is having a fit in his office, Shawn is staring off into space at his desk, and Vance is trying to get the image out of his head. Sitting in his chair, he drops his head into his hands. His stomach is flip-flopping and he is continuously swallowing back the bile that keeps rising in his throat. He wants to go home. He wants to get the hell away from this whole fucked up case.

“Why me, Shawn?” Vance murmurs into the silence after the thought occurs to him.

Shawn blinks slowly and turns his head to look over at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…I don't understand why that email was sent to me. How does the killer know me or know that I'm on the case?”

Shawn stares at Vance for a minute. “That's a good question. Obviously, the guy is a computer whiz to know how to make an email untraceable. And it seems as if he must know you or know of you. I'm betting on the latter. He probably hacked into our system and found out who's working the case.”

“God, I hope so,” Vance says, shaking his head.

The Chief lets Vance and Shawn go home early and tells them to take a couple of days off while they wait for the autopsy results to come in. Vance is definitely grateful for the time to get himself together. He goes straight home, needing a shower and some time to himself.

It is around 4:30 pm when he walks into the kitchen from the garage. The smell of food cooking turns his stomach to the point that he starts gagging. Vance rushes past Ryder, who is doing the cooking, and runs to the bathroom that is off the living room. But Vance has nothing left in his stomach, so he pretty much just dry heaves into the toilet.

“Jesus, Van, are you alright?” comes Ryder's concerned voice from the bathroom doorway.

Vance's abs clench tight as he gags again, unable to answer past the dry heaving; it just won't stop. He can't breathe. His whole body is shaking and his head is pounding.

Strong arms wrap around his chest and stomach and he hears Ryder's voice in his ear.

“Breathe, Vance, come on, you need to relax, breathe...in through your nose...alright, there ya go...again...good...calm yourself.” Ryder soothes quietly.

Vance is finally able to get himself under control. He leans back against Ryder and closes his eyes. Ryder starts smoothing his hand over Vance's hair, which helps him relax a little more.

“You're okay, I’ve got you,” Ryder mollifies.

Vance reaches back and clasps the back of Ryder's neck. Ryder then pats Vance's chest, knowing that Vance is trying to thank him for being there. After a minute of holding each other, they slowly let go and get to their feet.

“Are you alright?” Ryder asks, now facing Vance. He reaches out and claps a hand on Vance's shoulder.

Vance swallows hard. “Bad day, very bad,” he croaks, his throat raw from vomiting.

“Shit, man, what can I do for you?” Ryder asks softly.

Vance can't stop himself from getting choked up. He shakes his head and looks away from Ryder. The grip Ryder has on Vance's shoulder tightens and before Vance can stop him, Ryder is pulling him into his arms. Vance lets go, unable to hold back even if he wanted to. He buries his face in Ryder's neck, and in the most emasculating way, just balls his eyes out. He clutches the back of Ryder's t-shirt. Ryder cups the back of his head with one hand while the other wraps around his shoulders.

“I gotcha buddy. It’s okay, you'll feel better after you let it out,” Ryder coos gently into Vance's hair, giving him exactly what he needs to purge his day.

A few minutes later, the tears have dried and Vance is able to think straight again. He thanks Ryder, which is met with a “nothing you wouldn’t do for me,” then both men move on as if nothing happened.  Vance goes up to his room and takes a shower. He is just about to get into bed for a little nap when he remembers that he is supposed to go see Melina. Fuck! As much as he likes her, he just isn't in the mood to see her. But he promised and he doesn't want to start off a possible relationship with him breaking a promise.

So Vance forces himself to get dressed, pulling on a pair of faded jeans and a plain white t-shirt. After putting on his socks and sneakers, he shoves his wallet into his back pocket and heads downstairs. When he walks into the kitchen, Ryder, Dayne, and Tripp are eating the dinner that Ryder cooked.

“You going somewhere?” Ryder asks, an eyebrow raises in question.

Vance nods and clears his throat. “I promised...” he starts then has to clear his throat again. “...Melina that I'd stop by,” he finishes, his voice hoarse.

“You sure you’re up for that?” Ryder asks, brows now furrowed.

Vance sighs and grabs his keys out of the bowl on the counter. “No, but I promised.”

“How ‘bout I come with you?” Ryder says and pushes his chair out.

“Nah, man, I'll be alright. I'm not going to stay long,” Vance insists and leaves before any of them can argue more.

Vance walks slowly down the hospital corridor toward Melina's room. He is exhausted and won’t miss coming here once Melina is released. He comes to a stop in front of her door, raking a hand through his still damp hair then knocks. Hearing Melina say “come in,” he opens the door and enters. Vance ducks around the curtain to see Melina sitting up in bed, an iPad in her lap. She is in her own clothes - the sexiest raggedy old nightshirt he’s ever seen - and looks as if she recently showered. Not that she could shower with the condition her leg is in, so it must have been some kind of sponge bath. But how did she wash her hair? Oh well, whatever, he’s clearly overthinking things. Her long dark hair is damp, laying in waves over her shoulders. The old nightshirt is doing nothing to hide her beauty. Vance actually thinks that she looks sexy in the outfit.

Melina smiles brightly when she sees whom her visitor is, which makes him feel good. But her smile quickly fades when she sees the condition that he is in.

“Vance? Are you okay?” she asks worriedly, putting the iPad aside.

Vance walks over and sits on the bed next to her hip, facing her. “It's been a really horrendous day,” he answers, his voice still fucked up.

“Are you sick? Your voice is really hoarse.” She put her hand to his forehead as if checking for a fever.

“Nah, just dealing with work stuff is taking its toll.”

“Oh, Vance, you should have just called me. You didn't have to come today,” Melina tells him softly, running her fingers through the hair right above his right ear.

“But I wanted to see you,” Vance murmurs.

“But you look exhausted.” Melina frowns.

Vance just shrugs then watches as Melina methodically rearranges her wires then carefully scoots over and pats the bed next to her. She holds her arms out to him and waits. Vance is too tired to resist so he turns around and sits next to her on her right side. He kicks his shoes off, cautiously putting his feet up on the bed next to hers. She pulls him into her arms, pretty much forcing his head down on her shoulder, then hits the button to tilt the bed back some. He shimmies down a little bit so that he can rest his head on her chest and wrap his arms around her waist, again vigilant not to get too close to her bandaged thigh. She hits another button and the light above them goes out.