ONE #3
I pivoted, and Detective Kage was there with his nice captain, who I’d met earlier, and another of the square-cut-jaw, square-cut-hair guys who had been on the street with him. He did the two-fingered poke into my collarbone like he was trying to drill through my skin.
“Owww,” I whined, rubbing the spot.
“Where the hell do you think—”
“Sam,” the captain cautioned him, putting up his hand. “Let’s not—”
“He’s an idiot”—Detective Kage gestured at me—“and he’ll be dead by this time tomorrow.”
“And who’s going to kill me? Brian?” I asked snidely. “Gimme a break.”
He gestured at me again but said nothing.
“Mr. Keyes,” the other detective began, his voice gentle, soothing.
“Even though you think of Mr. Minor as simply the abusive asshole husband of one of your girlfriends, you must believe us when we tell you the man is not benign. He’s a drug dealer, a murderer, and someone you should not ever cross.
There are a lot of people who don’t want him in the position of choosing between jail time or talking about them.
You alone have the power to put him behind bars.
Without you, he walks. Do you understand that? ”
“I get it,” I told him. “I do. I will testify. I will do whatever you need so he never sees Anna again as long as he lives. I promise, cross my heart, but seriously—I have a life. I mean, I get from being here for the last five hours that you guys don’t think being someone’s assistant is important, but I promise you that, to my boss, I actually matter.
I’ve got so much shit to do, you have no idea.
” I let out a quick breath, finally shaking my head.
“Mr. Keyes, you—”
“Call me and tell me what day I need to appear in court,” I instructed him, heading down the stairs to the exit.
“Mr. Keyes.”
I sighed and turned around, looking up at the captain.
“They’ll come after people you love.”
I shrugged. “Good luck finding any,” I replied before I turned away from him again.
It was interesting that even after talking to me for hours, none of them understood anything about me.
Outside, the air was cold. I had forgotten I was still in my dancing clothes, which consisted that night of a black spandex T-shirt, tight, distressed, boot-cut brown jeans, and harness boots.
So because it was fall, I was freezing. It smelled like it was going to rain, and the breeze was icy.
My teeth started to chatter as I looked for a cab.
As I walked down the street, a minivan slowed beside me, and I heard the sound of the automatic window going down. When I turned, a guy was smiling at me from the driver’s side. I waited for the come-on line even as I kept walking.
“Hey, man, you need a lift?”
The whole ick factor of some middle-aged man in a van trying to pick me up in the same ride he probably took his kids to school in made my skin crawl.
“I’m talking to you, pretty boy.”
“No, thanks,” I said quickly, hoping he’d just drive away. “I don’t need a ride.”
“C’mon,” he persisted. “How much?”
“I’m not hustling, man, I’m just walkin’,” I said, moving faster.
“Sure you are,” he said, and I easily caught the leer in his voice. “Get in.”
And I thought, it’s the club clothes outside of the club, downtown, walking the streets alone at four, maybe four thirty in the morning that’s making him think my ass is for sale. I couldn’t fault his logic; I had rent boy written all over me. “Listen—”
The blast of the horn scared us both. I jumped, and the guy was so startled that he gunned the motor and drove away. It would have been funny if my heart hadn’t been pounding so hard. I shivered in spite of myself and looked up when someone shouted my name.
I saw the enormous SUV then, named after something nautical, I thought, black and shiny, and through the lowered window I saw Detective Kage. He was motioning me over. I shoved my hands into my pockets as I walked over to see what he wanted.
“Get in,” he snapped at me as soon as I peered in the window.
“I—”
“Mr. Keyes,” he began sharply, and the exasperation was not lost on me, “you’re this close to being put in the vehicle whether you like it or not.”
The way he said the word vehicle, so clinical, so like the cop that he was. Step away from the vehicle, put your hands on top of the vehicle, get in the vehicle… It was funny.
“Oh yeah?” I baited him, because I figured I could move before he got a hold of me. “You think so?”
“Yeah,” he warned me, his gaze level and dark. “I think so.”
And it wasn’t so much the ominous tone or the way he was looking at me as the way the muscle flexed in his jaw. I was closer to jeopardy than I’d realized. He was bigger than me, so the chances that he could hurt me were pretty good.
I opened the door, and held on to it as I climbed up into the seat—it was high—and finally got it closed much harder than I meant to. It was also heavy.
He grunted at me. “Put on your goddamn seat belt.”
“Do you know where I live?” I asked him.
“Yes,” he almost growled. He had one of those voices that was low and husky, the kind that under other circumstances I would have found sexy as hell.
“I don’t live in the city.” I wanted to make sure he knew where he was going. “I live just on the other side of Austin Avenue in Oak Park.”
He didn’t respond, which was rude, but I was fairly certain that rude was the detective’s default. There was some cowboy crap playing on the radio, but it was low, so I didn’t complain.
“Did you hear me?” I asked him, checking.
“I know where you live,” he said, clearly exasperated. “It was one of the many questions you answered for me, as you may recall.”
I rolled my eyes as my cell phone rang. After fishing my silver Nokia out of my front pocket, I answered. “Hello?”
“Where the hell did you go?” Taylor Lopez asked me irritably.
“To pick up a dog,” I replied, smiling, slouching down in the seat.
“What?”
“Never mind. What do you want?”
“Were you gonna come back or call?”
I chuckled. “I thought that wasn’t our deal. Either one of us could split at any time. It’s your rule,” I reminded him cheerfully.
Long silence.
“Right?”
“Yeah, right,” he muttered, the annoyance clear in his voice. “So where are you?”
“On my way home.”
“Oh yeah?” He sounded excited to hear that.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Tell me where that is.”
“Nah. I’ll call you.”
“Jory,” he said softly, coaxing. “Please lemme see—”
“Later.” I yawned and hung up. I wasn’t in the mood for company. I just wanted to go home, shower off the night, and pass out in my bed.
“Friend of yours?”
“Not really,” I told him. “Just a guy.”
“You got a lot of guys?”
I turned slowly to look at him.
“What?” he asked gruffly.
“What the hell kind of question is that?”
“Fair, I would say.”
I went back to staring out the window.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.” I kept my answer clipped, trying not to snap.
“Twenty-two,” he repeated.
“Yeah.”
“How can you afford to live alone?”
It was a weird question. “I told you already; I have a good job.”
“And what else?”
I turned again to look at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“I think you know.”
“I don’t think I do, Detective. You need to spell it out for me.”
“Fine. Does some guy help you out with your rent in exchange for fucking you?”
That was definitely clear. “No.” I barely got it out through my clenched teeth.
“No?”
“How do you know I’m even gay, Detective?”
He glanced at me, scoffing. “Dressed like that?”
“You know what? Just lemme out.”
“Knock it off. Don’t be stupid.” He was annoyed, and his voice was dripping with it. “All you guys are so goddamn dramatic.”
All you guys? “You mean gay guys?”
“Just drop it, all right? I’m tired, and I don’t feel like getting into a pissing contest with you. I’m driving you, ’cause if I don’t, you’re gonna freeze to death. You don’t even have a jacket.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Just sit there and shut up.”
I granted his request and didn’t say another word to him for the rest of the ride. When he stopped in front of the old Victorian house that had been converted into four apartments, I got out, slammed the door, and ran across the lawn without a backward glance. I didn’t check to see if he waited.
When I got inside, I immediately fell onto my bed, fully clothed, with my boots still on. I was exhausted. Having people shooting at you as you ran for your life was really very draining. I’d have to keep that in mind the next time I watched a movie.