Tony: Alvarez Security Series (5 page)

The cabbie let her off at the front door and asked if she wanted him to wait. Not having any idea how long this would take, or what shape her sister might be in if she were sick, she thanked him but sent him on his way. Turning, she looked up at the building and then quickly scanned to the left and right. A few people meandered around, but no one looked threatening. Her mind went back to the last time she saw her sister. Charisse had made her bed with the devil and when he wanted Sherrie, her sister called her into a trap. If it had not been for Tony’s rescue…

“Why are you here?” came a deep voice from behind. Sherrie jumped, her heart pounding as she twisted around quickly, ready to flee.

Tony? What the hell?

Before she could ask that question aloud, he repeated, “Why are you here?”

“I got a text.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “A text?”

“I…someone is…I’m…uh…”

“You wanna just try the simple truth?”

“Not really.”

At that he chuckled, stepping closer. Too close. Have to lean your head way back to hold his gaze kind of close. Licking her lips, she suddenly realized that she was glad he was there. She felt safer. As though with him near, she could forge ahead and face anything her sister could need.

“Charisse?” came the question from his lips.

Licking hers, she just nodded.

“Christ, Sherrie. When was the last time you saw her? Huh? When she trapped you, had you drugged and kidnapped? By someone who was ready to haul you out of the country?”

Sherrie snapped out of her Tony trance and glared. “I haven’t seen her in a year, okay? She just sent me a text saying she was sick.” Dragging her hand through her hair again, she said in a quiet voice. “I’m the only family she’s got, Tony.”

Sherrie sounded so defeated at that moment, Tony wanted to take her in his arms and pull her close. Chase away the clouds, letting the sun that was Sherrie shine again. He forced himself to hold his itchy fingers back and not take her right then and throw her in his truck and drive away.

Instead he nodded. “Then let’s go. We’ll see her together. You can decide if you can help and I’ll keep you safe.”

At this, she just stared.
He would do this for me?
Slowly nodding, she agreed and turned toward the entrance.

“But Sherrie,” he stopped her. “If I see anything that I don’t like, or if she does anything I don’t like…I’m getting you outta here.”

Sucking in a huge breath and letting it out slowly as his words washed over her she nodded again.
He cares. Underneath all that bravado, he cares.

The two entered and with one glare from Tony to the desk clerk, they found out Charisse’s room. Taking the elevator to the third floor, they walked down the hall. Tony’s senses were alert. His op training had him scanning the area but felt no threat. He could not shake the feeling that something was not right, but he had no warning of danger.

Arriving at Charisse’s door, Sherrie knocked several times. When no answer or sound came from within, she turned her gaze to Tony. Before she had a chance to ask, he quickly picked the easy lock. The door swung open, but Tony went in first. He was so tall and broad, Sherrie could not see around him.

“Jesus, fuck,” he called out and before he could stop her, Sherrie skirted around him, running toward the bed. Charisse lay on the bed, drug paraphernalia around. Eyes wide open.

Tony tagged Sherrie around the waist and lifted her easily off the ground. He had seen enough death to know what it looked like. Felt like. Smelled like. And he knew Charisse was dead.

Bicycling her legs, she tried to get down. “Tony, let go. Let me help her.”

He wrapped both arms around her, effectively caging her in his embrace. “No, Sherrie. You can’t help her,” he said softly.

She stopped moving long enough to see that her sister’s chest was not moving. No breaths. No movement at all.

“Noooo,” she wailed, going limp in his arms.

He was the only thing keeping her upright and he knew he needed to call the police. Turning around and shifting to hold her with one arm, he pulled out his phone, dialing Matt. Giving a quick run-down and location, he shoved his phone back into his pocket, returning both arms to her.

“Tony…you have to let me go to her. I have to see her,” Sherrie sobbed. She twisted in his tight hold to see Charisse again.

“Don’t want you to touch anything until Matt and Shane get here.”

“I won’t touch anything, please. Please let me, please, please,” she begged.

Knowing he should not, he felt helpless against her pleading. He loosened his hold slightly and she shot out of his arms, kneeling by the bed.

She reached out a shaking finger to just a whisper away from her sister’s cheek. Holding her breath, she touched it gently, hoping to feel the warmth. The life. But only ice cold met her touch. Her breath rushed out in a single whoosh, causing Charisse’s hair to move in the breeze. Her hair. They had the same blonde hair. Often disinterested, temporary foster parents would not take the time to tell them apart.
Too much like twins,
one had complained when Sherrie corrected them for the hundredth time.

Choking out a sob, she threw her head back, unleashing a wail in the room.

“Fuck,” Tony ground out as he pulled her up from the floor and against his chest.
Shoulda never let her down there
, he chastised himself. Holding her shaking body tightly to his, he could not help but notice how neatly she fit into him. His arms wrapped securely around her middle with one hand cradling her head that was tucked perfectly underneath his chin with her cheek against his heart.

He had kept her at arm’s length for so long, convincing himself that he did not want her. Or need her. Or anyone. But holding her right here, right now, had his mind wondering if maybe there could be something between them. If perhaps he could try again.
No. Don’t go there. Not again.
His arms could not seem to listen to his mind as he continued to hold her as sobs racked her body.

She had no sense of the passage of time. She felt her hands bunch his shirt that was pressed closely to her face. Tears soaked the material, but she could not make them stop. Her legs felt gelatinous and at one point she felt his arms shift as if to hold her up. Voices began to murmur in the distance but meant nothing to her.

Matt and Shane appeared, taking in the scene efficiently. Calling it in to get the homicide detectives to the hotel, they quietly asked Tony questions. Tony answered them succinctly and if they wondered about his arms supporting Sherrie, they did not let on. He was grateful.
Don’t need them reading more into this than it is.

Sherrie’s sobs had quieted and he could feel her testing her weight as she placed her feet more firmly on the floor. She pushed ever so slightly on his arms, but his brain could not seem to tell them to let go of her. Looking down, her face was tear-streaked, shock still in her eyes.

“Sherrie?” Matt asked softly. “When was the last time you saw your sister?”

Opening her mouth to answer, her tongue seemed to have swollen, halting the words from coming out. Licking her lips, she swallowed loudly. “It…I…” Giving herself a little shake, she tried again. “A year ago. I haven’t seen or heard from her since…”

Matt nodded, well remembering how Charisse led Sherrie into a trap, trying to score a favor with a drug king-pin.

“She…she sent me a text saying she needed me,” Sherrie continued, holding out her phone for him to see.

By then the other detectives had arrived and the scene became an active investigation. Matt, Shane, and Tony gave their information to the detective in charge.

“Tony?” she called in a small voice. He looked down immediately, seeing trust mixed in with grief.

“Yeah?” he answered, more gruffly than he should have.

“What…what happens now? With her?”

Sighing, he answered gently, “They’ll take the body. They may have to do an autopsy to determine cause of death. They’ll let you know when you can have a funeral home come and pick her up.”

“Oh.” Her brain simply could not process anymore.

Recognizing that he needed to get her out of there, he walked her slowly to the outside of the room and down the hall a little ways. “I’m going to make sure that they don’t need you for anything else. Stay here, okay?”

He walked back to the room, talking with Matt and Shane for a few minutes. “Jesus, fuck, guys. Charisse was a piece of work and now this? Just couldn’t stay off the drugs.”

“Sherrie gonna be okay?” Shane asked.

“Yeah. I’ll take her home in a little bit.”

“You were holding her pretty tight when we got in. She finally breaking through that tough exterior of yours?”

“Nah. Just making sure she didn’t pass out all over the crime scene, that’s all.”
Jesus, fuck, I’m a prick. Can’t even admit that it felt fuckin’ great to finally have her in my arms, even if it was from this fucked up situation.

The men chatted a few more minutes and then Tony walked back into the hall. Looking around, seeing it empty, he sprinted to the stairs and out through lobby. A taxi was just pulling away, Sherrie’s blonde hair visible from the back.

Standing on the cold sidewalk, hands on his hips, he hung his head.
She must have heard.
Fighting the urge to get in his truck and race after her, he stood his ground stoically.
This is why I’m no good for anyone. I just don’t know how to open myself up to those emotions anymore.

Turning he walked to his truck, pulled himself into the driver’s seat and moved into traffic.

A
week later
Sherrie sat numbly in the seat at the front of the cemetery staring at the casket. She kept things simple, knowing her sister had no friends that would have attended her funeral. In fact her sister had no friends at all, unless you counted pimps, her drug supplier, and perhaps a few strippers and hookers.

She looked at the gleaming casket, glad that the cheapest version did not look like just a box. Charisse certainly had no money, no savings, and no life insurance to help cover the costs. In fact, if Sherrie’s friends had not given some donations, she would have been paying off this bare-bones funeral for years.

Her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses even though the day was cloudy. Charisse may have been a mess as a person…but she was still her sister. The stress of the last week was bearing down on Sherrie, causing a never-ending headache. Reaching up to rub her forehead, she wished…
what the hell do I wish for? That Charisse had not been such a fuck-up? That I hadn’t been pulling her ass out of the fire since we were teenagers? That I had been better…or more understanding…or something?

Her friend, Jennifer, reached over and grasped her hand, giving a gentle squeeze, startling her out of her musings. Annie, Lily, and Suzanne sat on the other side with their husbands sitting in the row behind. The minister had finished his prayer and was walking over to offer his condolences before leaving.

She stood, accepting the hugs from her friends and assured them that she was fine and just needed a little privacy. She watched them as they made their way to their cars, smiling when they glanced back.

She walked slowly toward her car, but spying a bench under a tree she made her way there. Sitting down, she wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to protect herself. From the chill. Both inside and out.

Alone. All alone. It had been her and Charisse for as long as she could remember. No uncles or aunts. No cousins. And now Sherrie was filled with the realization that she was the last in her family. She sighed loudly, the weight pressing on her chest forcing the air from her lungs.

“Do you need someone to see you home?” a deep voice came from behind that she recognized.
Of course I recognize it…it’s filled my dreams ever since I first met him.
And I am nothing to him. He sees me and just sees an extension of my sister. I’ll never be good enough for him.
She closed her eyes for a moment, wondering if his voice was only her imagination.

“Sherrie?” the voice prompted.

She did not turn around as she answered, “No, thank you. I’m fine, Tony.”

He walked around to the front of the bench and stopped directly in front of her. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry. About your sister. About…”

Leaning her head way back so that she could see his face, she replied, “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“I’d like to see you home,” he said, squatting so that she did not have to lean back so far.

She looked at his face. She had memorized every facet. From his short, dark hair to his square jaw with just a hint of stubble. And those eyes. The color of warm caramel. She wanted to lean into his chest and feel his arms around her. She wanted to know what it would be like to have him take her home, sit with her and hold her.

She stood from the bench, a forced a smile on her face. “Thank you, but I’m fine,” she said for the hundredth time that week.
Maybe if I keep saying it, it will eventually be the truth.

She moved around him quickly and walked to her car, hearing him walk behind her. She opened the door and turned to see that she could not shut it with him standing in the way.

“Tony, you’re good to go. I don’t need babysitting. I’m just going to go home and rest for a while.”

He stood for a moment, indecision written plainly on his face before just nodding and closing her door. She drove slowly out of the cemetery and told herself that she would not look in the rear-view mirror. But she did…and seeing Tony standing there alone instead of holding her almost broke her heart.

*