CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
It was a sight to behold.
Mizzay strode into the prisoner holding area, the SOS team behind her as well as…a half dozen individuals dressed in black, looking equally as bad-assed? What ?
The mixed group was being trailed by the night sergeant on duty who’d booked them, and by two grim-faced cops; Delaney and O’Reilly.
Mizzay clearly hadn’t hesitated to flex her muscles, whatever those were.
“I will be speaking to your chief first thing in the morning,” Mizzay snapped at the sergeant, barely an inkling of her Bronx accent in play. Del stood toward the back of the entourage, one among many of the large, intimidating bodies lined up, and he was smiling. It looked like he’d cheerfully given the floor to Mizzay on this one.
“And if I were you gentlemen,” she turned and stabbed a glare at the pair of dishonest cops who had been O’Shea’s physical aggressors, “I’d be looking for another job. One that’s not in the law enforcement field, because once I’m through with you, your badges won’t be worth the metal they were made with.”
Billboard hid a snicker, and spoke to the douchebags from his position behind bars, where he and O’Shea were still as mashed together as possible. “Maybe your friend Jakes can find something for you,” he taunted, without an ounce of compunction. “Maybe a place you can intimidate other innocent citizens and swing your wannabe big—”
“Mr. Seingold,” Mizzay greeted sharply, cutting him off. “Miss O’Shea.” She nodded at them. “It’s good to see you both. You’ll be happy to know you’re free to go. With Sergeant Billis looking on, we’ve gone over various pieces of video footage that some fine citizens at the town hall gave us when we came to investigate. Not only does the sergeant here agree that you did nothing wrong, youze are being released with no charges.” She snapped her gum.
Ahh. There was the Mizzay they all knew and loved.
“Thanks for that, Mizzay. And thanks for nothing,” O’Shea added, glaring at the man who’d booked them in.
Billboard snickered, pleased to see that his woman had some fighting spirit left.
Mizzay continued. “And just an FYI, due to all this highly unusual behavior with the town elders, the DA’s office will now be taking a closer look at Barnie Jakes and those who have been working with him.” She gave a stink-eye to the two dirty cops.
That was music to Billboard’s ears. If the rotten prick had gotten away with what he’d ordered done to O’Shea, BB would have had to go back and kick the man’s ass.
“Sergeant?” Mizzay waved the officer forward, and he responded immediately as she indicated the cells. He deftly unlocked both cages.
Upon emerging, Billboard immediately headed for O’Shea and wrapped her up in his arms. He thought she might balk at being embraced in front of the team, but she surprised him by melting into his body and holding him as if he were the anchor that tethered her to the seabed and kept her from floating away.
His heart sang.
“Do you two have it in you to debrief?” Mizzay questioned, not commenting on the clinch.
Billboard glanced down at O’Shea. He had the energy, but he wanted to make sure she wasn’t about to crash after her earlier storm of emotions.
“I’m good,” she told Mizzay, slowly extricating herself from Billboard’s hug. He immediately missed their connection, but impulsively reached for her hand.
Score .
Rather than block him, as she might have in the past, she threaded her fingers through his and hung on tightly.
Mizzay continued. “I’ve been in touch with Anna Jakes, and since hers is the closest place available where we can talk, she’s very graciously offered up her living room so we can get to the bottom of tonight’s debacle.”
Mizzay looked extremely pleased with herself, and Billboard knew it was because she’d get the chance to grill Anna and O’Shea together, finding out what the hell had been going on between them to send O’Shea—who’d been antagonistically loose-lipped at the Q and A session—into Barnie Jakes’ town meeting tonight.
After Mizzay gave Delaney and O’Reilly orders not to even contemplate trying to disappear, the team and company all left the premises and piled into four black SUV’s that were taking up an intimidating amount of space outside the police station doors.
Billboard had just settled into the back seat beside O’Shea when a thought hit him. “My Bronco,” he grunted. “Can we go pick it up? I’m not sure I want it left at the town hall tonight. I wouldn’t put it past those cops to make sure it suffers some kind of damage.”
“Already taken care of,” Mizzay told him breezily.
Billboard blinked. “But…keys?” He and O’Shea had just been given envelopes which held their pocket-belongings, and his keys were in O’Shea’s.
She shrugged. “Not necessary when you have people with skills.”
“Right,” Billboard snorted. “You mean since my vehicle is as old as dirt with none of the new-fangled shit getting in the way to stop you, someone hot-wired it.”
“Confirmed,” one of the female black-suits dead-panned, unprompted.
O’Shea elbowed Billboard and grinned. “They’re grumpier than you,” she whispered.
“Impossible,” Perkins said from her other side, clearly having heard. He was looking at the agent…speculatively, but matched his voice to the low tone taken. “Billboard takes the cake when it comes to cranky.”
The balance of the ride was done in silence, and sure enough, when they pulled up to Anna Jakes’ house, Billboard’s Bronco was in the driveway, along with the SUV Billboard had borrowed. That was no surprise. Mizzay had spare keys for that one.
The four large vehicles parked on the dark, suburban street out front, and Billboard chuckled to himself. The neighbors, some of whom he could see peeking out of their lighted windows, would be talking about this possible “federal invasion” for a long time.
They went inside to convene in the living room, with Zoe immediately heading for O’Shea, twining around her ankles.
“Thanks, Zoe,” Billboard thought he heard O’Shea murmur as she bent to stroke the cat’s fuzzy head, and he laughed. She’d forever think the psychic feline had truly sent Billboard to find her.
It was a tight squeeze, but nobody was complaining. Especially Perkins, who, if Billboard wasn’t mistaken, took the opportunity to get as close to the peevish agent as possible; the one who’d taken credit for jumping Billboard’s Bronco.
Everyone else seemed more interested in finding a seat, or propping themselves up on a nearby wall. They were all clearly anxious to get to the bottom of what was going on with Anna Jakes’ ex-husband.
But first…
Billboard eyeballed the youngster still in the room, and it caught Anna’s attention.
“Ethan?” Anna used her mom-voice on her offspring after she and her son had been introduced to everyone they didn’t already know.
“Yeah, Mom?” he responded, resignation already in his reply.
“It’s time—”
“For bed. I know.” He looked toward O’Shea with pleading eyes. “I’m never here for the good stuff. Can’t I stay? Please?”
“Sorry, bud,” O’Shea shook her head. “You have school tomorrow and it’s already approaching midnight. Be happy your mother let you stay up long enough to meet everybody.”
Ethan, grumbling, scooped up Zoe, then stomped off down the hall, sending a terse “goodnight” over his shoulder.
“Okay, O’Shea,” Del took charge. “Spill.”
Once O’Shea got started, Anna chimed in, filling in a lot of the blanks as they apprised everyone gathered about Barnie’s past abuses toward her and Ethan; how Anna had suspected him of wrong-doings where the town was concerned, and that she’d stashed away some damning documents in a safe in her garage.
By the time O’Shea and Anna were finished, everyone’s heads were shaking.
“I’m not trying to step on your toes, Anna, but we should take those papers off your hands,” Del stated.
“I’m not sure I—”
“Actually, we’ll be taking them. It’s in your best interest, Ma’am,” the dour agent interrupted.
“What if I don’t—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Ms. Surly continued. “Whether you give me the combination or not, Mrs. Jakes, I’ll get those papers.”
Wow . Hard-core, Billboard marveled.
Anna didn’t argue any further, but looked a bit disconcerted.
Perkins was all grins.
Billboard smothered his amusement. Who knew? Their junior team-member clearly liked the tough-edged woman.
“How about this…” Del speculated, ending the sort-of standoff. He began outlining a plan that eventually—with a few tweaks from the fine minds in the room—they all agreed was the way to go.
When the last of the agents and team had finally left— after the forbidding female in black had the damning documents in hand, and post Mizzay directing two of her black-suits to keep an eye on the Jakes’ house from outside for the balance of the night—Billboard turned to O’Shea. “You want me to stay here, or do you want to come home with me?”
There was no way he was leaving her after the episode she’d had in the cell. He knew the way those things worked. If the past got its claws into you, the victim of those barbs was bound to have some difficult nights.
O’Shea didn’t question him.
“I… Maybe I’ll go with you. But just for tonight,” she stated hesitantly. “Anna? Will you be okay?”
“With those…” Anna waved a hand toward her front door. “…whatever kind of agents they are sitting outside? Especially that scary woman? Absolutely. I’ll probably feel safer than I have in a long time.”
“Okay,” O’Shea capitulated. “But I’ll be back first thing in the morning to settle in before you and Ethan leave for work and school.”
“You know that’s not necessary,” Anna stated, “but you also know how much I appreciate it.”
****
It didn’t take long for O’Shea to pack an overnight bag. If Billboard had his way, she wouldn’t ever do it again. After this whole thing with Barnie Jakes wrapped up and Anna was safe living by herself again, he planned on having O’Shea move in with him, permanently. But for that to happen…
Billboard spoke gruffly, the minute they were inside his vehicle and headed home. “I know it was tough for you to open up to me tonight and tell me about your past, but it makes me realize it’s time I gave you the same consideration.”
O’Shea reached over and laid her hand on his where it was dancing nervously on his thigh.
“This isn’t grade-school, Billboard. We don’t have to have a tit-for-tat. What happened with me tonight…” She glanced over at him and sighed. “…it was inevitable. I couldn’t have stopped it if I’d tried. I…have a fear of small spaces that are enclosed.”
“But you go in elevators,” he recalled, frowning but relieved over the momentary reprieve from his own worries.
“Right. Because I’ve made it a point to force myself to do normal stuff like that. But any kind of cage. With bars…”
Billboard snapped his fingers. “That’s why you were so particular about the kind of carrier we bought for Zoe and Cheeto. Why you didn’t go with the one that was hard-sided and had a metal door.”
“Yup. It had to be soft and see-through with mesh, or I would have freaked out about putting them in it,” she admitted. “I know it sounds crazy, but I want you to know that I’m pretty sane, other than that. And I’m getting better all the time. Tonight was the first freak-out I’ve had in over a year.”
Better than him, for sure.
“You had help working everything through?” Billboard asked. His shrink was his god-damned lifeline.
“Yeah. My brother, and a neighbor of ours back when we lived in that apartment building. Cedric dealt with my shit a lot when we first moved out, then there was Mishka Lavine. She’s a therapist, and she witnessed me freak out one day when one of the kids in the building accidentally got shut in the storage unit out back. After I broke down and told her why I’d gone nuts, she made time for me—at home and privately—to work on it.” O’Shea smiled. “I’m in touch every now and then when I need a refresher, but like I said, I’ve been, let’s say, ninety-percent better in the past few years.”
“I’m so glad you were able to make that kind of progress.” Billboard was happy for her, but as for himself… “I’ve been seeing Doctor Edwina for several months now, compliments of Mizzay, and so far, it’s helped, but not ninety-percent worth,” he admitted.
His night-terrors had all but stopped, which had allowed him to have O’Shea sleep over, but certain triggers during the day still sent him into a downward spiral. It was why his team deemed him bad-tempered. When he felt an episode coming on, he set his jaw, stopped interacting, and took himself off somewhere quiet to work through things alone.
Even though Del and the team generally knew about the things he’d done in his past and how they bothered him, only Mizzay was privy to some of the depths of Billboard’s secrets, and his coping mechanism. She often ran interference for him when he needed solitude, for which he was grateful.
They pulled into Billboard’s driveway far too soon, and walking inside almost felt like a death-march. He knew it was time to lay everything on the line with O’Shea, but now that he’d decided he wanted her in his life, he was scared. What if she was horrified at who he’d been; what he’d done?
It was the same old litany that played over and over inside his head; especially whenever he thought of a nebulous future that might include a wife and kids. Those insecurities had only ramped up with the advent of O’Shea.
“Listen, Billboard. Don’t sweat this.” O’Shea told him as she deposited her small duffel on his couch. “Just because my baggage came out and was on display tonight, doesn’t mean yours has to, as well.”
“No,” he responded adamantly. “I want you to hear it all, O’Shea. So you can be with me. For good. Do you understand?”
“I’m starting to get the picture,” she answered pointedly. “But aren’t you jumping the gun a little? You want me to move in, but you haven’t exactly come out and declared your love or anything.”
Billboard swallowed; words tumbling from his mouth. “I’ve been holding it back, O’Shea, but believe me, it’s been threatening to come out.”
Her mouth dropped open, and Billboard was shocked at what he’d just admitted.
But he had to be honest with himself.
That “I love you” had been reverberating around in his brain. He just hadn’t fully acknowledged it until this very moment.
Billboard figured he should be scared shitless. After all, he’d never told a woman he loved her before. But when he analyzed his feelings, he realized he suddenly wanted to shout his love to the moon.
First, however…
He manned up. “All I’m asking is for you to listen to exactly what you’re getting into,” Billboard warned, “ before I make any pronouncements that might blindside you and guilt you into ignoring who I really am.”
“Wrong assumption, Billboard,” she rebutted. “I know exactly who you are.”
Billboard wasn’t budging on this one, and crossed his arms over his chest.
O’Shea studied his face for a long minute, then came to a conclusion. “Okay. If this is what you need, I’ll listen. But it’s not changing my mind, and I want us to be cuddled up in bed while you talk. I think we’ll both need the physical connection.”
“Deal,” he agreed, but as he turned away, it felt like a monster the size of Godzilla was sitting on his chest.
They both brushed their teeth; Billboard upstairs in the guest suite, O’Shea in the primary. Then seven minutes later he walked into his room. O’Shea was already in his bed, under the covers. And…was she naked?
He gaped. “I, uh, might feel more comfortable if you had something on,” Billboard advised her, his tongue thick in his mouth.
O’Shea whipped back the covers to reveal miles of gorgeous, bare skin. “Well, I’ll feel more at ease if you take yours off,” she retorted.
Billboard groaned, but his fingers were on his zipper, and somehow, he’d already lost his T-shirt. Damn.
“This doesn’t mean we’re making love, O’Shea.” He said the words out loud so he’d have the strength to resist her pull.
“Okay,” she agreed. “Not right away, at least. But after you’ve said your piece and I’ve assured you that nothing you’ve revealed is a deal-breaker, I’ll be jumping your bones.”
Billboard swallowed hard. He could live with that.
He shed his clothes and slipped into bed beside O’Shea where she snuggled up to him, causing his cock to stiffen.
Fuck.
Billboard snorted to himself.
Who knew that in times of deep stress, his damned penis would be capable of independent thinking.