Chapter 21
Kipp
I hate this.
I hate the way we didn’t get to have fucking make up sex.
I hate the way they barged into our fucking apartment.
I hate the way they’re wrecking our fucking shit.
I hate the way they’re making us just sit out here and fucking watch.
But what I hate the fucking most?
The undeniable, tire sized amount of dread rolling around in the pit of my stomach that Bunny is back to the idea of running again.
Despite being tucked tightly against me as well as me using my body to shield most of her face and frame from the strangers, she hasn’t stopped fucking shaking like a disintegrating windshield wiper on the highway.
I’m afraid that despite all the shit we literally just said to each other that she’s gonna fucking Mach 5 her ass out of here.
And the way Detective Northwood keeps eye fucking her?
Isn’t. Helping.
“Excuse me,” a smooth, deep, unexpected voice states, pulling my stare away from where my girlfriend is frantically scribbling on the edges of her gray yoga pants to his dark chocolate glare. “I’m looking for the individual in charge here.”
Nolan – who opted to stay standing in the doorway like a protective barrier between us and the destruction inside the shop – momentarily redirects his attention to the newcomer prior to kicking his chin at Northwood.
“You?” the male that has to easily be somewhere around six-foot-three – considering he’s got a couple inches on Nolan who only has one on me – questions in an even tone. “Are you the lead detective in this case?”
Northwood shoves his hands firmly into his pockets at the same time he proclaims, “I am.”
“I’m Victor Garcia,” our tanned skinned visitor announces on an extended open palm in the detective’s direction, “Mr. Nolan’s attorney.”
The reluctance the cop exhibits to shake his hand isn’t surprising. “Detective Northwood.”
“Mm.” As soon as their grips separate, he makes his request. “I would like to see the copy of the warrant you presented my client, please.”
“My pleasure.” He sucks his teeth, removes the piece of paper from his pocket, and presents it to the man who practically towers over him. “Don’t worry. This procedure is completely legal.”
“Interesting choice of words, Detective.” Garcia transfers the document into his possession. “And not ones that most people feel the need to say when it’s actually true.”
Northwood’s jaw cracks open in surprise over the comment while my boyfriend’s attorney begins to examine the information.
Why didn’t I know Nolan had an attorney?
Why does he have one?
Is he saved in his phone?
Is this an old favor he’s cashing in?
Has he gotten caught in shit before but kept it hidden from me and used this dude when it happened?
How often has that happened?
Uncomfortable by the NASCAR loop of thoughts now racing around my mind, I merely adjust my ass on the grass.
Do my best to keep a cold engine expression.
It isn’t the time for me to be upset about that shit.
Especially not when we’ve got cops raiding our place and a girlfriend who I swear to the car gods above is now drawing her escape route on my pant leg.
“Detective Northwood,” Garcia speaks up shortly after beginning his reading, “this warrant gives you the right to search Mr. Nolan’s home, business, and vehicle.” His change in tone warrants my attention once more. “Not my other clients.”
Are we his other clients?!
Did I miss that fucking text message?!
“The wording, Detective, specifies you have the right to search homes, businesses, and vehicles that are in Mr. Nolan’s name only.” In spite of how easy it would be to smugly smirk, Garcia refrains. “The apartment is in two of my clients’ names, not just Mr. Nolan’s, therefore you did not have the right to start and do not have the right to continue searching the premises as I do not believe my other client, Mr. Woods, consented to have his spaces forcefully explored.”
“I sure the fuck did not,” I swiftly clarify rather than wondering out loud how the man knows my name.
Huh.
What else does he know about me?
Which of my other specs has he read?
Garcia gestures an innocent hand in my direction. “And as you can hear…the distress of having his rights violated is causing an unfortunate visceral reaction that’s being expelled in foul language he would never consciously use around respected officers of the law.”
Oversell.
But I get it.
Calm down.
Do better.
Watch my mouth.
“It would be a shame if the emotional distress from having his home and work violated expanded into needing to seek mental counseling that inevitably led him to feeling as though he should file a civil suit against the city of Spike Village in which you work for, Detective Northwood.” This time there’s a noticeable flicker of a smile that reaches his lips. “Three in a year is grounds for a state funded investigation into your precinct and or district; however, seven in three years is actually enough to warrant the wrong attention from those at a federal level. However, I’m sure you’re aware of that.”
Northwood’s entire face pales in color prompting the man I love to pompously chuckle.
“Nothing your officers may have found or discovered during this violation process can be recorded, removed, or used to request additional or alternative documents regarding any future search and seizure requests.”
“Davis!” shouts Northwood in frustration as Garcia resumes his reading. His head whips over to the officer kicking over one set of my tools. “Go get Davis!”
“It states the aforementioned terms in slightly ambiguous legal language that your office probably should’ve clarified to you before you began this unsanctioned raid.”
“I’m glad my attorney cares more than yours does,” Nolan arrogantly states, body still angled to shield us from the cop’s scathing glances.
“And since only the towing business is in Mr. Nolan’s name, you need legal consent from my other client-”
“Which I did not give,” I loudly insure, leaning around Nolan to guarantee the present detective can see my face.
“-to search the garage, you instructed your men to inspect, which from the looks of it,” he briefly glances around the wrecked space, “is also grounds for a civil suit. After only a glance, I can already estimate the amount of property damage that he could easily ask to be compensated for.”
“Davisssss!”
“Also-”
“There can’t possibly be fucking more,” barks Northwood causing Bunny to quietly snicker beside me, reinstalling a faint bit of hope that I’m wrong.
That she won’t run.
That this whole thing didn’t completely ruin the few miles we’ve finally made as a whole.
“Also,” Garcia repeats, ignoring the irked officer’s tone, “your warrant allows you to only search the properties of Mr. Nolan – including his logs – but not seize anything. You are only allowed photos,” he taps the document he’s holding, “and only photos of items that pertain to Mr. Nolan.”
Northwood’s sneering encourages Nolan to ask, “Does it say what all this is exactly in regard to? The…detectives haven’t exactly made that crystal clear for me, Mr. Garcia. Just that they could search my shit and needed to ask me some questions, which of course is when I texted you.”
“Clarity does not seem to be their strong suit,” our attorney quips prior to skimming the document. “And they most certainly will not be asking you any questions at this time.” Eventually, Garcia reaches the end of the paperwork and releases an almost amused sigh, “Wow.” He shifts his stare up to Nolan’s. “Whoever wrote this is not good.”
Bunny’s face lovingly hits my shoulder to hide her giggles inspiring even more gratitude to the stranger for helping bring back the beautiful sound.
“I think it’s trying to state that they believe you were the last person to see their missing witness – who is a witness to a large criminal case I’m assuming.” He begins folding the papers back into the shape he received them. “The search warrant was most likely issued to see if there was any way to prove that theory, to prove you helped their witness disappear from police surveillance, or that you had contact with the alleged criminal, they are trying to build a case against.”
Huh.
So, they’re not actually worried that Nolan killed the guy?
They just wanna know what part he played in his disappearance.
I wonder who it is they’re really after.
What the large case could possibly be.
Finally, Davis returns to the room, yet the instant he steps foot inside the garage, he loudly grumps, “Fuck.”
“Always a pleasure to see you, Detective Davis.” Garcia lifting a friendly hand in the air precedes a cocky grin. “I’ll tell Maureen you said hi.”
“Fuck you, Garcia,” he chomps back.
“Is that anyway to talk to the legal counsel in this situation or the man who sits courtside with your boss six months out of the year?”
Davis clamps his mouth shut further proving how powerful Garcia truly is.
Again…how does Nolan know someone like this?
And how the fuck is he worried about what I might not be telling him when he’s keeping shit like this guy from me?
“We’re done here,” Northwood begrudgingly concedes.
“What?!” His partner bellows. “No! We’re not fucking done here!”
“The way the…warrant is worded…we have,” he momentarily shuts his eyes in obvious irritation, “violated the occupants’ rights as well as overreached the bounds of what was allowed making pretty much anything we discovered today – if we discovered anything – inadmissible.”
“Fuck. Me.”Davis unhappily darts our direction, “Seriously?! But what about-”
“You can look at my logs, boys, but you can’t take ‘em. Just pictures.”
“You could’ve deleted shit!” argues the secondary detective. “Important shit!”
“And as you look through them, if you discover something that leads you to believe this, you may then present that information to your team to see if they can file a warrant for a digital search; however,” Garcia victoriously steps forward, “considering how badly you botched this warrant, I doubt they’re going to be rushing to give you another. And considering that Mr. Nolan’s logs are kept in a shared office space, you need my other client’s permission to proceed into that space, which he does not give. So, yes, Davis.” His face cranes defiantly forward.“You. Are. Done. Here.”
Angry shouts and swears fly out of him during his storming off process leaving his partner to collect the other officers – who to no surprise – haven’t found anything worth noting yet.
Because they’re not going to.
Because whatever he did is between him and the bastard who had it coming.
And I know he had it coming.
Nolan’s not a notorious serial killer or some shithead with murder just roaring through his system like NOS.
He’s just vigilant when it comes to those, he gives a fuck about.
Dumb pricks who tried running their mouth off about the shop when I was first starting out had to have their jaws fucking wired shut after “warnings” to watch what they say.
Mouthy bastards that thought they could con me out of the money they owed for performance labor have all had multiple bones broken in their gearshift hands.
And I’ll never forget the one dickhead who “drowned himself” in a bar toilet a few hours after having his drinking buddies drag me into the back parking lot to break a couple ribs because his girlfriend couldn’t stay out of my lap.
Again, my boyfriend’s not a monster.
He’s just not afraid to become one.
“This isn’t over,” Northwood declares at the same time he snatches the document away from Garcia who’s tauntingly displaying it. “We’ll be back.”
“I hope that wasn’t a threat towards me or any of my clients, Detective.” His head tilts in a challenging fashion. “I’m the last person The DA wants to see in a courtroom again this soon.”
He huffs, grumbles, and turns sharply on his heels to finish his trek to his vehicle.
The four of us linger outside in silence, watching them speed off, inevitably giving the entire fucking town something to talk about.
Honestly would be surprised if something about this doesn’t end up in the weekly newsletter.
Once they’ve made what Garcia considers to be a safe distance from us, he turns to Nolan and commands. “I’ve got some equipment in my trunk you can use to scan for listening devices. Do not say a word in the garage, your apartment, or your vehicle until we’ve confirmed they’re clear. We’ll also play music for an additional counter surveillance measure. Understood?”
Fucking…hell.
Is he being roadster real right now?
Was all this shit just a big production to drop a few of those around?
Hear what it is we’re really saying and doing behind closed doors?
And why can’t I ignore the revving in my gut that says this is someway, somehow connected to the woman doing her best to stop trembling beside me?
Am I wrong?
Am I fucked up for hoping that I am?
Post Nolan nodding his comprehension, Garcia whips his attention over to me. “Got a dollar?”
I thoughtlessly tilt my head in confusion. “Huh?”
“Do. You. Have. A. Dollar?” he repeats slower with his eyebrows arched towards the early morning sky.
“Kid,” Nolan calls on his heels forcing me to cut my gaze to him, “give the man a dollar.”
Meeting his firm and unpredicted command is quickly done.
Once it is, Garcia nods. “Good. Now, you’re officially my client, Woods, and whatever is said next falls within the confines of confidentiality.”
It’s impossible not to grin at his cleverness.
I see why Nolan likes the dude.
Wait.
Does he…like this guy?
Is there…something between them?
Did they have…something before us?
Were they ever a…thing?
Is that why he was so fucked up over what he thought was me keeping my sexuality from him?
“Knock that shit off, Kid,” my boyfriend unexpectedly demands as he folds his arms across his chest. “It’s not like that.” Our eyes lock tightly onto one another’s for a moment. “It’s never been like that.”
His reassurance encourages me to sheepishly, nod yet Garcia to chortle. “And here I thought you were the possessive one, Nolan.”
Crimson creeps into my cheeks which only makes my boyfriend chuckle. “Oh, I am.” More redness colors my face prior to him adding, “Of them both.”
Garcia casually nods in acknowledgement. “Noted.”
His proclamation inspires our girl’s shoulders to finally untense.
Fuck, maybe that was the reminder she needed.
That regardless of what cops or anyone else throws at us, she’s still ours.
That we’re still gonna do whatever the fuck we need to do to protect her.
Us.
Our attorney shifts his attention to our girlfriend. “Dollar?”
Bunny’s headshake has Nolan motion his head at me to do exactly what it is I was gonna do anyway.
I extend the dollar to Garcia who simply uses his eyes to indicate she needs to be the one to hand it to him.
Giving the money to our woman leads to her handing it over to him. “And now you’re officially my client as well. I’m sure I’ll get your name in just a moment.” Garcia shoves the cash in one pocket and bluntly asks, “What the fuck is really going on here, Nolan?”
“They think I know where their missing witness is, plus The Kid – whose real name you now finally know – murdered someone in self-defense last night – they probably don’t know about that yet but will soon – and Rabbit – er – Bunny…Bunny Abernathy – although you might hear people call her Miss Ripley – is being stalked back and forth across the country by her mega rich, mega powerful, dickhead of an ex-boyfriend that I’m pretty sure has some sort of hand in all this shit.”
“Ohhhhhh,” Garcia casually nods a second time, “just a run of the mill clusterfuck.”
“Aren’t those your favorite?” my boyfriend lightly teases, sparking both a smirk of amusement and twinge of jealousy.
Is he…flirting?
He’s not fucking flirting.
Why do I feel like he’s flirting?
Bunny drops a hand onto my thigh and delivers a soothing rub of reassurance like she can sense another race of the wrong topic starting.
Right.
This is about us.
He got Garcia here to protect us.
To take care of us.
Jealousy can’t drive.
Probably shouldn’t even be allowed in the fucking vehicle.
Damn sure nowhere near the track.
“Let’s get the equipment out of my trunk and give everything a sweep before we continue, okay?”
We all nod together.
“And I don’t give a fuck who…but someone is making my ass coffee the minute we get upstairs.”
“That’ll be The Kid,” Nolan announces with a crooked grin. “Makes a mean brew and sucks an even meaner dick.”
There’s no stopping my mouth from dropping.
“Close that shit,” my boyfriend playfully scolds. “You don’t have to prove it.”
The croak noise that escapes gets Bunny giggling again, a sound I know we both feared we wouldn’t hear so freely again.
“The Kid it is,” Garcia agrees while motioning his head over to his nearby Audi. “For the coffee.” He shoots Nolan a good-natured wink. “I’ll continue to look elsewhere for the latter.”
More laughter leaves the group prompting me to join them.
Take an overdue breath.
With the way everything keeps going, I’m not so sure when I’ll get the chance to take another.
For now, though?
I’m simply grateful for this one.
Our girl.
Our boyfriend.
And the lengths we’re all prepared to go to in order to protect this family from whatever or whoever lies on the road ahead.