Enemies and Playmates (20 page)

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Authors: Darcia Helle

BOOK: Enemies and Playmates
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Suzanne pursed her lips. Her bottom lip trembled. She didn’t quite meet Alex’s eyes.
“Is this jealousy, Suzanne?” Alex asked. “Rather unbecoming on you.”
“I didn’t know. How long have you and Katrina…?”
“Are you recalling our first months together? The mid-day rendezvous?”
“I thought we had something special.”
“Special?” Alex chuckled. “Spare me, Suzanne. You walked into this with eyes wide open.”
“But Alex, please -”

“Don’t.” Alex held his hand up as if to ward off the words. “Your job is secure. As for your appeal…” He shrugged. His tone was harsh. His words clipped. “You’re getting old, Suzanne. Tiresome. And I do as I please. I always have. You know that.”

Suzanne’s eyes welled with tears. Alex shook his head. He had no patience for emotional scenes today. No reason to placate Suzanne’s delicate feelings. He owned her. And like many other things he owned, he was growing tired of her.

Alex strode past Suzanne. He slipped into his Burberry London Fog trench coat. “I have a personal errand to run before meeting Katrina,” he said. “I will not be returning today. Now make those calls.”

 

***

 

Nearly six p.m. and still Jesse sat in the stuffy, slightly chaotic police station. The very same station he’d walked out of barely two years ago. Of course, that was not before telling the lieutenant to shove the badge up his ass. Not one of his finer moments. He’d lost all restraint that day. But he’d never regretted his decision.

Jesse propped his feet on Tim’s cluttered desk. Hard to believe Tim could work in this mess. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched the speed dial for Lauren. The sound of her voice gave him a little chill. He said, “I just called to see how you’re doing this evening.”

“I’m doing great,” Lauren said. “The roses are beautiful. Thank you.”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you, too. Been busy today?”

Jesse glanced around the room. Cops lost in paperwork, making calls, working on laptops. He simply sat on his ass, waiting. “Yes and no,” he said.

Lauren chuckled. “A challenging day?”
“You could say that.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He could almost smell her perfume, taste her kiss. He shook his head. Definitely a lovesick puppy. “I just miss you.”
“Me too.”
“What time are you coming over tomorrow night?”
“About seven,” Lauren said. “Is that good?”

“Any time is good.” Jesse spotted Detective Robert Foster across the room motioning him over. He held up a finger signaling Foster to wait a minute. “I’ve got to go,” he said into the phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Jesse crossed the room. Foster’s expression was a good indicator of what Jesse was up against. He said, “I know you won’t work with me on this.”

Foster groaned. “Jesse, we’ve known each other a long time. You know the rules as well as I do.”

“Rules are broken every damn day.”

“Yeah, well not for those of us who want to keep our job. I can’t do anything. The only way I can help is if you turn the case over to us.”

“Not a chance.”
Foster threw up his hands. “What do you want from me? And what’s with this personal crusade you’re on?”
“Who is the car registered to?”
“Dominic Forenzi.”
Jesse sighed. “I don’t think it was him driving.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Foster said. “You want us to go pick this guy up and question him? You want to press charges for harassment or something?”

“Hell no. But thanks anyway.”

Jesse turned and strode off. What a waste of time. He’d been hoping for an inside scoop. Something he could sink his teeth into. But he’d known it was a long shot. No one in their right mind wanted to get caught helping the rebel who’d defected from the force. Especially when the case involved high profile people who normally had a hands-off status.

How much further was this whole thing going to go? His head ached. He rubbed his temple with one hand while fishing his keys from his pocket with the other. He needed food. And sleep. He’d prefer Lauren and an evening of slow sex.

Jesse was less than two feet from his car when he realized footsteps were pounding behind him. He turned just in time to see a large fist coming straight at his face. The punch caught him on the edge of the cheekbone. The force of the blow sent him stumbling back a few steps. Spots of light exploded behind his eyes and his teeth throbbed.

Jesse regained his senses and, in that split second, saw the glint of steel coming at him. He dodged to the left and the knife grazed his arm, slicing effortlessly through the sleeve of his leather jacket. His favorite jacket. And that really pissed him off.

With a quick lunge forward, Jesse grabbed his attacker’s wrist and slammed it against the side of an SUV. The guy yelped and his hand went limp. The knife clattered onto the pavement, then skittered beneath the car.

The guy wrenched his hand free and made a move. He wasn’t all that big, though he was wiry and surprisingly strong. Jesse, however, had twelve years of martial arts training. He’d taught self-defense for five years. And he was running on enraged adrenaline.

He threw his attacker to the ground. The guy huffed, swore, and jammed his elbow into Jesse’s ribs. The two men struggled in the police station parking lot. All the while Jesse wondered how the hell all those cops could be two hundred feet away and still be so useless.

Jesse finally pinned the guy down on the pavement. The little maniac then actually tried to bite him! He had his slimy teeth wrapped around the back of Jesse’s hand and was ready to chomp. Jesse shook him off. The guy used the opportunity to shove Jesse backward, then he quickly scrambled to his feet and shot off into the darkness.

Jesse slowly rose to his feet. Blood trickled down his arm from the gash above his elbow. He stood staring into the darkness in the direction the guy had disappeared. A shadow moved beneath a street light, then disappeared down an alley. No way was Jesse about to set off on a game of chase through the city. Let him go.

He walked over to his car and grabbed a rag from his trunk. Then he carefully retrieved the knife from beneath the SUV. At least he could salvage some prints. And, if he was lucky, put a name to the bastard who’d attacked him. Of course that meant going back inside the police station. More paperwork to fill out. And he’d have to deal with Foster again.

Damn.

 

 

 

18

 

Huddled beneath the warmth of her covers, Lauren dreamt of Jesse. His dark, intense eyes, his contagious smile, his muscular arms wrapped around her. An angry voice tumbled into her quiet dream. Her father’s voice, loud, full of rage. His voice mixed with sobbing. Her mother.

Lauren opened her eyes and sat up. Her peaceful dream evaporated, leaving behind her reality. She blinked in the darkness, listening to her parents fight. Things between them had gotten worse. Much more volatile than ever before. None of this could end well.

Lauren cracked her bedroom door open. Her mother was sobbing, that type of cry that borders on hysteria, when you can’t seem to catch your breath. Her father’s distinctive tone chastised. Mocked. She couldn’t make out all the words. Bits and pieces drifted toward her.

“You know better,” Alex said.
“I can’t stand it any longer,” Kara said. “I want to know who…”
“None of your business…”

Kara’s words grew louder, stronger. “You’re obviously happier with whomever you’re spending your nights with. Why bother coming home at all? Why not give me a divorce and make it easier on all of us?”

Alex’s reply was low and muffled. Lauren couldn’t make out the words. Then he laughed, that mocking sound.
“But I can’t continue to live this way,” Kara said.
“Stop whimpering,” Alex said. “You are pathetic.”
Kara’s sobs continued. A stinging slap echoed down the hall. The sobs became muffled and the voices hushed once again.

Lauren’s stomach churned. She stepped back into her room and closed the door. She climbed into bed and eventually fell into a restless sleep. This time she dreamt of her father being thrown into a pen of hungry lions. As they tore at his flesh, his tormented screams rang through the air.

Lauren smiled.

 

***

 

Morning brought a gray dampness that gave the house a raw chill. Lauren lifted the shade and peered out at the heavy clouds. They seemed to be threatening snow at any moment. Snow before Thanksgiving probably meant a long, dreary winter. She sighed as she quietly slipped out of her room. The gray gloom was a perfect match for her mood.

Lauren wrapped her bathrobe tightly around herself. The big house was cold and silent. Across the hall, Stephen’s door stood open. She shivered as she took in his unmade bed, his clothing on the floor, his computer on his desk. The room remained exactly as it had been the day he’d died. Another shiver slid down her spine.

Kara stepped from her bedroom. “Good morning,” she said.
Lauren turned toward her. “Morning, Mom.”
“I know I have to clean that room out,” Kara said. “I simply haven’t been able to face it yet.”
“I know. When you’re ready, I’ll help you.”

“It’s such a final step. That might sound silly. But I look in there and it’s like his room is waiting for him to return. Like some part of him is still with us.”

Lauren didn’t quite meet her mother’s eyes. “I know what you mean.”
Kara shook her head and moved past Stephen’s room. “I’m going to make coffee. Want some?”
“Sure.”
As Kara ground fresh coffee beans, she said, “How are things going with you and Jesse?”
“Great.”
“He treats you well?”
“Oh yeah.”
“That’s good.”

Lauren dropped her gaze. She twisted the ring her mother had given her. “I wanted to invite him over next week, for Thanksgiving dinner, but…”

“Why don’t you?” Kara said. “I’d love the chance to get to know him.”
“You know how Dad has reacted,” Lauren said. “He’d freak.”
“Your father really despises Jesse, doesn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Have you tried to talk to him about it?”
“Dad doesn’t listen to anyone once his mind is made up.”

Kara pulled two mugs from the cabinet. “Are you sure Jesse didn’t do something to… Well, you know, perhaps your father knows something you don’t?”

“The only thing Jesse is guilty of is standing up to Dad.”

They fell silent. The coffeemaker gurgled and the pungent aroma filled the room. Lauren was close to telling her mother everything about how her father had threatened to kill Jesse, what her father had wanted Jesse to do. All of it. Then the phone rang and snatched the moment away.

Lauren grabbed the phone and answered. Gina’s voice greeted her. Lauren closed her eyes. Said nothing.
“Please don’t hang up,” Gina quickly said. “I really need to talk to you.”
“No. I can’t.”
“I love him. And I know he loves me too.”
Lauren clamped her mouth shut. She couldn’t respond. Not with her mother standing a few feet away.

Gina said, “I know you hate me right now and you have every right to. But Alex and I didn’t plan this. It just sort of happened. I love him and can’t imagine my life without him. But I love you, too. You’ve been my best friend forever.”

“You don’t really know him,” Lauren said.
“We spend lots of time talking. It’s not just sex. That’s the truth, Lauren.”
“You have no idea what the truth is.”
Gina’s voice broke with a sob. “Don’t hate us, please,” she said. “We didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Then what exactly did you think the outcome would be?”
“I don’t know,” Gina said. “I guess I thought we’d end up happy together. That you’d understand.”

The slight static on the line was the only sound. Lauren was acutely aware of her mother’s presence in the room. “I have to go,” she said.

“You’re my best friend,” Gina said. “I don’t want to lose you because of this.”
“You should have considered that before.”
Lauren replaced the receiver with shaky hands. Kara stood by watching. She said, “What’s wrong, Lauren?”
Lauren shook her head. “Nothing important. I’ve got to shower or I’ll be late for class.”

 

***

 

Lauren arrived at Jesse’s apartment one minute before seven that evening. She rapped lightly on his door. He pulled it open and the smile on her face instantly vanished. A dark purple bruise was splotched like blush on one cheek. “What happened to you?” she asked.

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