(Dream Man 03) Law Man (16 page)

“I’m gonna get to know you and the same with them.”

My head tipped to the side. “What happens when you get to know me and you don’t want to get to know me anymore? What happens to them?”

He tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling then he muttered, “Christ, here we go again.”

I gave a little shove to his chest and snapped, “Mitch!” and his eyes came back to me. “Seriously.”

“Seriously?” he asked. “I can’t tell the future. All I know is, right now, I want to get to know you and I’m gonna set about doin’ that. I also know those two kids out there have had it tough; they need to learn the lesson that there are good people in this world who give a shit because their Dad sure as fuck doesn’t. I’m tellin’ you I’m willin’ to step in and help them learn that lesson. We’re both adults. We’re both decent people. Because of that, those two, whatever happens with us, won’t feel it.”

“I don’t –”

“Mara,” his arms gave me a squeeze, “baby, you’ve got to live in the now. Not in your head. Not controlled by your fears. You can’t live for what might happen five months in the future. You got issues you gotta face
today.
You gotta deal with them
now.
You got two kids who count on you and their lives aren’t gonna go perfect every day because you weigh every decision you make and tread cautiously. Those options are no longer available to you. You’re gonna have to live day to day and make decisions on the fly. And I’m tellin’ you I’m here to help. You need it and they need it. Are you honestly gonna say no?”

I pressed my lips together finding it annoying when he was right.

I didn’t tell him that. Instead I changed the subject.

“There are other things we need to talk about.”

He stared at me a second then shook his head once and sighed.

Then he said, “Yeah, the Trailer Trash Twins.”

“Well, actually, no,” I told him. “I was referring to, um… what, uh… what happened last night.”

He smiled and shook his head again. “Jesus, you can’t even say it.”

My eyes narrowed and then I informed him, “I don’t need to say it to tell you it’s not going to happen again.”

His head jerked slightly back as he stared at me. Then he burst out laughing.

“Mitch!” I snapped, slapping his chest with one of my hands.

Still chuckling, he remarked, “Fuck, that was funny.”

“I wasn’t being funny,” I retorted.

Now only grinning, he said, “You’re tellin’ me after the three best kisses you’ve ever had, kisses you had with me, you’re never gonna kiss me again?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“You’re standing in your bedroom, in my arms, wearin’ your cute nightie and robe, tellin’ me you’re never gonna kiss me again.”

“Yes!” I bit out.

“You’re cracked.”

“I am not!” My voice was rising.

“That’s okay, sweetheart, it’s cute.”

“I’m not cracked!”

Suddenly, his face was all I could see and that face was serious as a heart attack.

“It’s gonna happen again, Mara,” he promised me. “I’m gonna kiss you and you’re gonna kiss me. I’m gonna do other things to you and you’re gonna do other things to me. No way in hell even you can share a kiss with a man like the ones we shared last night and not explore where that could go.”

“Mitch –”

“Tell yourself all you want it’s not gonna happen but I’m tellin’ you, baby,
it is.
”

“I think –”

“That subject’s closed,” he announced. “Now we’re talkin’ about the Trailer Trash Twins.”

“We need to go back to the, um…”

He stared at me. When I stopped speaking and couldn’t start up again, he noted, “Jesus, you really
can’t
say it.”

Crap! I couldn’t!

“Whatever,” I muttered.

His arms gave me a squeeze. “Yeah, definitely cute.”

I glared at him. “You know, Detective Mitch Lawson, most normal,
sane
men would run a mile from women who suddenly find themselves the guardian of two children whose father has the Russian mob after them, has trailer trash for relatives and who you think are cracked, clueless and have their heads up their asses.”

“Yeah, lucky for you I think all that’s definitely cute.”

“Trailer trash relatives aren’t cute!” I snapped the God’s honest truth.

“No, those two weren’t cute. You bangin’ your head against the wall after they left and talkin’ to me about my mother wearin’ scarves was not only cute, it was fuckin’ adorable.”

“There it is, you aren’t sane,” I declared.

Mitch just grinned at me.

Moving on!

“All right,” I stated then warned, “They’ll be back.”

“Yeah, I was guessin’ that.”

“I don’t want the kids to see them.”

“Yeah, I was guessin’ that too.”

“So we need a plan,” I told him.

“You got any ideas?”

To that, I asked, “How illegal
is
murder, exactly?”

He burst out laughing again. Luckily this time I was joking. Kind of.

When he quit laughing, his arms gave me another squeeze and he said, “How about this? I give Bray, Brent, LaTanya and Derek the heads up that they call me if they see them. The kids and I find somethin’ to do today that takes us out of the house. And since The Trailer Trash Twins have no clue I live across the breezeway, the kids and me hang at my place and you come get them from there when you get home tonight. They come callin’ late again, I don’t hear them from my place and intervene, you call me and I’ll intervene.”

“If they make a ruckus, the kids can still hear them shouting.”

“Yes, but I’ll have a talk with Billy today and clue him in and I’ll call a unit to come get them if they make a disturbance. Billie, we’ll play it by ear.”

This plan held merit.

“The kids go to bed before I get home. I don’t go back to nine thirties to six thirties until tomorrow.”

“They can bring their pajamas and crash at my place. I’ll carry them back when you get home.”

This wasn’t a great option but it was the only one I had so I nodded and said, “Fine.”

“I’ll call Bob Pierson today and give him a head’s up,” Mitch stated and my brows drew together.

“A head’s up about what?” I asked.

“The Trailer Trash Twins,” Mitch answered.

Oh shit. I hadn’t even thought of that.

Bill knew where I worked. The very idea of Mom and Aunt Lulamae showing up at work and the antics they might dream up while doing so made me close my eyes.

My head flopped forward so it was resting on my hands on Mitch’s chest.

Mitch’s hand came up and started massaging my neck as he murmured, “I see you didn’t think about that.”

“Bill knows where I work.”

“Unh-hunh.”

“He’ll tell them if he hasn’t already.”

“Right.”

“Shit,” I whispered.

I needed to talk to Bill. I needed to get him to call off the Trailer Trash Twins. I needed to do this because I couldn’t handle the Trailer Trash Twins but mostly because I needed to stay employed. Plus I liked my neighbors and I wanted them to continue liking me.

“Mara, sweetheart, look at me,” Mitch called.

I sucked in breath and tipped my head back to look at Mitch.

“Your boss thinks the world of you. He’ll be cool with this and protect you,” Mitch told me.

“He’s mistaken about the zone I live in too and those two show he’ll figure it out,” I shared and Mitch shook his head.

Then he remarked, “Bet you think a lot of people are mistaken about that.”

He was right therefore I made no response.

Mitch kept speaking. “Which means maybe they aren’t the ones who’re mistaken.”

Oh no. We weren’t going there again.

“I need coffee,” I announced.

Mitch studied me. Then one side of his mouth went up in a grin and he muttered, “Right.” Then he didn’t move, except his hand which was still massaging my neck.

Therefore, I prompted, “Like…
now.
”

The other side of his mouth joined the first, his eyes went super warm and he smiled at me.

A whoosh slid through my belly, I bit my lip and stared.

“Can I have a kiss before coffee?” he asked.

“No,” I answered.

“After?” he asked.

“No,” I answered.

“Before you leave for work?”

“No.”

“When you come home?”

I put pressure on my hands on his chest and snapped, “No!”

“All right,” he surprisingly agreed and I jumped right on it.

“Good, let me go. I need coffee and to check on the kids.”

“No.”

My head tipped to the side. “Pardon?”

“No.”

“Mitch, let me go.”

“No.”

“Mitch!”

Suddenly his hand wasn’t massaging my neck. His fingers had shifted up, curled around my scalp, he tilted my head to the side and his mouth was on mine.

Crap!

I pressed my hands against his chest and my back against his arm to no avail. I felt his tongue touch my lips, I liked it, I made a grunt of effort to push him away but my lips opened anyway and his tongue instantly slid inside. My fingers just as instantly curled into his shirt, the sweep of his tongue felt that good.

He then went on to kiss me and he did this thoroughly. I more than let him, I participated, enthusiastically.

When his head finally lifted, my dazed eyes caught his heated ones, his arms convulsed around me and he whispered, “Told you you’d kiss me again.”

I so totally
hated
it when he was right.

Chapter Twelve

That’s the Way It’s Gonna Be

I climbed the stairs to my unit, exhausted not because I’d suffered more emotional turmoil but because it had been a madhouse at Pierson’s Mattress and Bed that day. The bad news was, even after a good night’s sleep, I was exhausted again. The good news was, I’d sold a boatload of beds and mattresses, including two king-size Spring Deluxes. This meant Billy, Billie and I weren’t facing canned soup anytime in the near future and this made me happy even through my exhaustion.

I made it to the top and walked straight to Mitch’s door, lifted my hand to knock but the door was pulled open before my knuckles could meet its surface. My body jolted in surprise and I saw Mitch standing there then my body moved when Mitch leaned in, grasped my hand tight and pulled me inside.

Then he closed the door and turned to me.

This was odd behavior but I didn’t allow it to register because I was too busy looking around his place. What was behind his door was something I’d been curious about (avidly) for a very long time and when my eyes hit his living room, I found the reality of it shocking.

He had fantastic furniture
and
fantastic taste. I’d worked in a furniture store before I moved to Pierson’s and I knew at a glance that his stuff was the good stuff. As in, the
really
good stuff. Huge chocolate brown sectional couch that was both comfy-looking and well-made. A mammoth, square ottoman in front of the sectional. A dark wood wall unit that had to weigh a ton and had to have been crafted by a master. It housed his flat screen TV, a bunch of CDs, DVDs and books.

Wow. Mitch always dressed really great and he’d traded up SUVs since he moved in but I thought cops only did okay. His apartment said he did way better than okay.

“Sweetheart,” he called and I tore my eyes off his awesome pad and focused on him.

Then I held my breath at what I saw.

Something was wrong. Not wrong,
wrong.

“Billy and Billie?” I whispered.

“They’re good,” Mitch whispered back and I noticed his hand was still holding mine tight.

Uh-oh.

“What’s
not
good?” I asked, still whispering.

His hand in mine pulled me closer and his other hand lifted to curl around the side of my neck. “The kids and I went out to lunch and then we went to Washington Park. Derek and LaTanya were over at her sister’s place all day. Bray was workin’. Brent was at the clubhouse working out.”

I stared up at him wondering why he was telling me all this.

“And?” I prompted when he stopped speaking.

Mitch didn’t continue for awhile, he just kept studying me. Then he closed his eyes and muttered, “Shit, I don’t know how to tell you this.”

Because he was freaking me out, because I had a cousin in jail who was a marked man and because my Mom and Aunt Lulamae were too close for comfort, I moved into him and placed my hand on his chest.

“Just tell me,” I said softly.

He opened his eyes and his hand at my neck gave me a squeeze. “Someone paid a visit while everyone was gone. They broke into your apartment, tossed it and they didn’t go gentle.”

Oh. My. God!

“No,” I whispered.

“I’m afraid so, baby,” he whispered back.

I didn’t know what to make of this. I didn’t even want to think about this. Mom and Aunt Lulamae were crazy and they were mean and they were stupid. They had certain unique skills in all those areas but they tended to come out verbally. That took crazy, mean and stupid to a whole new level.

My hand was released so Mitch could wind his arm around my waist as he called, “Mara, sweetheart, come back to me.”

My eyes focused on him. “How bad is it?”

“Bad.”

“How bad is bad?”

“Shit Mara,” he muttered and my hand slid up his chest to curl around his neck.

“How bad is bad, Mitch?”

His eyes looked deep into mine. “On a scale of one to ten?” I nodded. “Fifteen.”

I couldn’t hold my head up anymore; it dropped and landed on his chest because at the same time he pulled me close now with both his arms around me.

I sucked in deep breaths and tried to process this. I couldn’t process it so I asked, “Did the kids see?”

“When we got back, I saw they left the door ajar. I brought the kids over here and then I went over there. Then I called in some uniforms. They didn’t see but they know somethin’s up. Even Billie’s on guard.”

I nodded, my forehead rolling on his chest. At least this was good. Kind of.

“You and the kids are spending the night here,” he informed me.

I nodded again.

“You need to tell me what you need, sweetheart, so I can go over there and get it.”

At that, I lifted my head. “I’ll go get it.”

“Maybe we should tackle you goin’ over there some other time. When’s your next day off?”

“Tuesday.”

“Then we’ll go over there tomorrow night.”

I stared up at him knowing with grave certainty that it was level fifteen bad if he didn’t want me to see my place until I had time to react to what I saw.

I closed my eyes.

“Honey, tell me what you need,” Mitch urged and I opened my eyes.

“I need to go over there.”

“I’m thinkin’ now’s not good.”

“Mitch, I need to go over there. I can’t go to sleep wondering. I need to know.”

“It’s late, you can know tomorrow.”

“Mitch,” I leaned in and got up on my toes, “please, I need to know.”

He studied me again. Then he muttered, “Fuck, all right. Hang on and I’ll ask Bradon or Brent to come over here in case one of the kids wakes up.”

I nodded and he let me go with one arm to pull his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans.

While he did this I asked, “Where are the kids now?”

He hit some buttons while he answered, “Billie is sleepin’ on the pull out in my second bedroom. Derek and LaTanya had an inflatable mattress and that’s in there too, Billy’s on it.”

I bit my lip as he put his phone to his ear and then said, “Bray? Mitch. Yeah, hey. Can you come over here for a few minutes while I take Mara over to her place to get some of her shit?” He paused then said, “Thanks, man.” Then he flipped his phone shut and shoved it into his back pocket before his arm went back around me.

“This is a new level,” I told him when he did.

“Sorry?” he asked.

“Vandalism,” I explained. “It’s a new level for the Trailer Trash Twins. They’re stupid, crazy and mean but this…” I trailed off and my eyes went to his shoulder.

It dawned on me that I’d been doing this for a while and Mitch hadn’t responded so my eyes slid back to his to see he was staring at me thoughtfully.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothin’,” he answered and there was a knock on the door.

Mitch’s arms dropped but he grabbed my hand and walked me to the door. He opened it and Bradon was there, looking worried at the same time looking curious. Mitch guided us out of his way and Bradon walked in.

Bradon was tall, blond, slim and lean and if he wasn’t gay, I’d have a faraway, freakishly shy crush on him too. Since he was an awesome guy, luckily he was gay so he could be my friend.

“Hey honey, how you doin’?” he asked, I tipped my head to the side and felt my lips tremble. “Shit,” Bradon muttered, pulled me away from Mitch and gave me a big hug. I wrapped my arms tight around him and hugged him back. “It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered in my ear.

“Yeah,” I replied but even I didn’t believe me.

“We know this now, we’ll all keep vigilant. You and those kids’ll be okay,” Bray assured me.

He was tall, slim and lean. Brent was somewhat shorter, bulkier and more muscular. Derek was built tough and strong. All I’d encountered on Mitch was solid, hard muscle. But none of them were ninja masters.

But Mitch had a gun and the training and authority to use it. And I was pretty certain that if the Trailer Trash Twins came calling again, he’d aim to maim rather than take them out in a bloody rampage. I hated them and I had reason to, now a new reason but not a bigger one, but I didn’t want them dead. I was happy with maimed. I focused on that because it made me feel slightly better.

“Thanks,” I whispered to Bray then felt Mitch’s hand warm on my back.

“Let’s get this done, baby,” Mitch said gently.

I pulled away from Bradon and returned the smile he was aiming at me. Mine was wobbly. Then I turned to Mitch and nodded.

“We won’t be long,” Mitch told Bradon as he opened the door.

“Whatever, Mitch, I don’t need to be anywhere,” Bradon replied.

Mitch nodded to him, grabbed my hand and led me out. There was yellow police tape criss-crossing my door that I hadn’t noticed because I hadn’t even looked that way. Something about seeing that tape made all this even more real and I suddenly stopped halfway across the breezeway. The minute I did, Mitch was in my space.

“We should do this tomorrow,” he said.

I tipped my head back, looked at the underside of the roof over the breezeway and sucked in breath. Then I looked at him.

“I’m okay.”

His hand tensed in mine and he muttered, “Survivor.”

Then he led me the rest of the way, dropped my hand, dug some keys out of his pocket and used them on a new bolt and padlock that was on my door because the doorknob and the door around it were busted to oblivion.

Oh boy.

He pushed open the door and used my hand to guide me forward, dropped it and put it in my back to force me down to duck under the criss-cross tape. We walked in and he flipped on the overhead lights.

The instant my eyes saw it, my mind retreated and it didn’t register on me. I saw my sofa and armchair had been slashed, the stuffing everywhere. I saw my television turned over on its face, smashed. Parts of my stereo strewn around the room. CDs, DVDs books from my shelves everywhere, cases broken, discs broken, books torn. I saw everything in my kitchen cupboards was all over the counters and some of it peeking out on the floor at the end of the bar. Broken crockery. Even food.

Holy crap.

I wandered down the hall and reached into the hall bathroom to turn on the light. I didn’t keep much in there but what was in there was all over the place.

I moved to my bedroom and turned on that light. My Spring Deluxe was slashed too. Completely laid to waste. My raspberry sheets and blush comforter cover with its embroidered raspberry flowers with delicate, grass green stems and leaves was shredded, feathers from my duvet and pillows all over the place. My clothes were everywhere, my dresser drawers pulled out and tossed, broken, across the room, their contents tangled with the feathers and shreds of my sheets.

I walked to my bathroom and more of the same. Tampon boxes emptied, tampons all over the sink and floor. The plastic pulled away from toilet paper rolls, the rolls unrolled. Bottles and tubs of my toiletries open, their insides spilling out, mingled with tampons and toilet paper and staining my towels and extra sheets that had been yanked out of my bathroom closet. My medicine cabinet looted. Even my ibuprofen capsules were littered everywhere.

“Mara, sweetheart, just grab what you need and –” I heard Mitch say from close but I moved, drifting out of the room and down the hall where I switched the light on to the kids’ room.

The same there. Their new beds where annihilated. The bedclothes slashed and shredded. Their new and old clothes scattered across the room.

I saw something and walked to it, picking up the remnants of Billie’s new, tiny, pink fluffy teddy bear that Mitch bought her. She loved that thing. It was the nicest toy she owned. She slept with it every night since he gave it to her. Every night. She never let it go even as heavy as she slept.

She never let it go.

Why would Mom and Lulamae do this? Why?

As these things go, whatever fog that had drifted around me cleared and the crushing weight of what I was seeing landed on me.

I needed new everything. The kids did too.

Everything.

Without me telling my body to do it, I folded into a deep, knees-closed squat, my ass to my ankles, my knees in my chest. I wrapped my arms around the back of my head as I pressed my face into my knees, feeling the soft fur of Billie’s decimated teddy bear brushing my cheek.

“Fuck,” I heard Mitch mutter.

I was sobbing into my knees, oblivious to everything but the hatred and ugliness that surrounded me. All that was hideous about the home I grew up in washing through my life, the one I’d worked so hard to build, the one I desperately wanted to give Billy and Billie. As ever, all I knew, all I was, all that was contained in the blood flowing through my veins shredding everything good that I worked so hard to have.

More fool I that I thought I’d ever get away from it, escape it. Ever.