Minka
T here’s beauty in letting go. In embracing what’s happening, rather than what’s supposed to happen.
Or so they say.
Personally, I’m still working on that psychobabble bullshit.
But at least I can breathe again. At least I can sit on Archer’s lap and enjoy the tantalizing sensation of his finger drawing patterns against my thigh.
And though it’s still ridiculously hot out, my psyche has learned to calm and enjoy the cooler evening air now that the sun is going down and the scent of our dinner wafts on the breeze.
“Grossest case I’ve ever worked on?” I murmur, considering. “Uh…”
“Oh! I’ve got one.” Aubree drapes her leg over Tim’s, her chair set impossibly close beside his.
He’s her comfort, just like Archer is mine.
Like Felix is Christabelle’s. “I had a case a few months ago that was unattended.” She dips her chin, gesturing toward Fletch.
“He was there. She wasn’t found till the stench alerted the neighbors, so by the time we arrived and put her in the bag, her skin was sloughing off and dripping on our shoes. ”
Kane’s lips and nose wrinkle. “Gross.”
“I was shot,” Romeo inserts solemnly. “Four fucking times.”
Felix frowns. “So?”
He hooks an accusing thumb toward Ellie. “By her. Close range, just before she was set to marry someone else. All because she was having a tantrum.”
“Good lord.” Ellie groans. “Move on, babe. It’s in the past.”
“Tell that to the fucking scars on my body.” He tugs her into his lap and elicits a wild squeal from the depths of her throat. “I could have died, ya know? And then we wouldn’t be on this charming camping trip from hell.”
“I would be.” She slaps his hands away, but she giggles and curls into his chest. “Probably with my other husband.”
“What about you, Chief?” Spence tips his beer my way, grinning in the dim light. “I could tell you about the time me and Kane,” then he tilts his head to the side, “and this other dude, Angelo?—”
“That bitch.”
“Shh.” Soph condescendingly pats Jay’s chest. “He’s not even here to hear you talk shit about him.”
“We had a problem with this dude who was hurting innocents,” Spence continues. “I guess you can relate to that. So we tied this motherfucker up and cut out his nuts.”
“I have these experiences.” Kane raises his hand, as though to show a level.
“These memories I hold close to my heart. There was the day my babies came into the world.” Then he drops it an inch.
“The day I married my Jessie.” Another inch.
“The day my brother came back to me.” And one more drop, though it isn’t far.
“The day we cut that bastard’s nuts out and added a label right there on his forehead. ”
Intrigued, I look at Spence. “A label?”
“R. A. P. I. S. T.” He runs his finger along his scarred forehead, spelling out the first letter. “Castrated him to ensure he wouldn’t touch a woman again. Then we branded him, just in case the first wasn’t enough.”
Micah nods, approving, even if no words cross his lips.
“So what about you?” Spence repeats. “What’s your story?”
“Uh… well…” I settle back against Archer’s chest and nibble on my bottom lip, thinking.
Cataloging. I mentally run through thousands of cases and dismiss each one when a better, gorier one arrives.
“Oh. Well, I had this one guy whose stomach, lungs, part of his heart, and all of his tongue were inside his skull.”
“What?” Jess exclaims. “HOW?”
“He’d stepped in front of a train. The case was ruled suicide, but the impact pushed,” I use my hands to illustrate, “everything upwards. Nothing above his waist was where it was meant to be, and to make room,” I lift my hand, “blew the lid straight off.”
“Sick.” Corey beams, entirely too impressed as he shuffles in his chair.
Though he’s careful not to knock Jen’s bandaged leg.
Seven stitches; hardly worth talking about.
“I dunno, Doc. I’m not interested in offing myself anyway, not when so many others would volunteer.
But I reckon if I were , I could think of better ways to go.
Having my brains leak out of my nose and ears doesn’t sound pleasant at all. ”
“I suppose anyone contemplating suicide probably isn’t in their right mind, anyway. Which means logical thinking long ago fled, leaving room only for emotion.”
“You need me to change the topic?” Archer’s lips brush against my ear. His warm breath, sending tingles all the way to my toes. Or maybe it’s his protective instincts, as always, that make me shiver. “We’re getting too close to home here, babe.”
“I’m okay.” I turn and cup his face, surprising his eyes wide, and pressing my forehead to his. “I let off all that steam earlier today. My next mental breakdown is a few years away.”
He snorts, soft and sweet and not entirely humored. But he runs his hand along my ribs and kisses my chin. “You sure?”
“Mmhm.”
“You tired? You’ve still got to administer your factor tonight. I haven’t forgotten.”
“I’ll do it later.” I feather one last kiss over his lips, hovering for a moment more and basking in the warm caress of his perfect green eyes. Then I turn and settle in his lap, twisting and folding at the ribs so I can fit, and though it’s uncomfortable as hell, I wouldn’t trade it for a thing.
Finally, I meet Soph’s challenging stare. “Tell us one of yours.”
“One of my, what?” She tosses an M&M onto her tongue and chews, mouth open, like a cow. “I’m not a medical examiner, Chief, and believe it or not, but I don’t often touch dead bodies.”
“She orders them, though.” Jay laughs, ignoring her warning glare.
“Way back in the day, before I knew who she was, I was working for someone I thought was a dude. Went by the name Ace. We communicated by email only, and when it was time, Ace ordered the hit, gave me the details—where the target would be, who they would be with, that sort of stuff—and when I did what I did, I’d email back and say it was done. ”
“You realize we’re cops, right?” Fletch drags a hand over his face. “Literal fucking homicide detectives, and you’re admitting to crimes we’re duty bound to arrest you for.”
“What’s said at camp stays at camp,” he taunts.
“Besides, Minka’s side-shit implies we’re all blood in at this point.
So, I was working for this hard ass, Ace.
Taking orders, doing as I was told. Meanwhile, I had this smokin’ hot dancer who lived in the apartment above mine.
Rockin’ body. Legs for days.” He grabs Soph’s leg and extends it, like we need visible proof.
“She was kinda hard to read. Quiet. Pretended she wanted nothing to do with me.”
“Pretended,” she scoffs. But she drops her leg and curls into his side, hugging his arm between hers. “To this day, I still prefer to have nothing to do with you.”
He rolls his eyes. “So Ace is tossing down orders. Stay away from the broad upstairs. Focus on my work and stop thinking about my dick . Then I was sent on a new mission, ended up at a strip club on the hunt for this dude who was caught up in the trafficking trade. I followed him into a private room, ready to get a few answers, and slit his throat. And would ya guess who his stripper was?”
“Ace,” Ellie snickers, her skin glowing under the moonlight. “I imagine that was quite the surprise.”
“Ya think? First time I ever froze on the job. This broad is on the dude’s back, her blade at his throat and her ass on display. And then we were outrunning bullets and trying not to die.”
“You couldn’t breathe.” Soft, sweet, she glances up at him and smiles. “Remember when you couldn’t breathe? We ran into the tunnels, and you were about to drop.”
“Cos my lungs weren’t working properly.”
“Kinda like the chief’s weren’t working today.” She brings her focus back to me. But her teasing expression is gone. Her mockery, dissolved. “Even the largest, strongest soldiers aren’t immune to that shit. But if they’re lucky, they’ll have someone on their wings who knows how to help.”
Archer’s heart thuds beneath my ear. Constant. Steady. Powerful.
“So that’s your story?” Cato lounges on a camp chair and throws his ball into the air. Up. Down. He catches it and throws it again. “Stripper slits a dude’s throat and bangs her boyfriend when they get outside.”
“Shut up, child.” Soph scoops up a rock and tosses it into his lap. “The adults are talking.”
“The adults are boring. Let me know when you’ve got a story worth telling, ballerina. You call me a child, yet my stories are darker than yours.”
“We attacked Mancino’s compound,” Troy inserts smugly. “Then, convinced the prick to hire us for protection.”
Sophia snorts. “That was a fun day.”
“Quite terrifying for me,” Ellie drawls. “Seeing as how I was inside the freakin’ house that was under attack.”
“Means to an end, babe.” Troy crushes her to his chest. “Means to an end.”
“Besides,” Soph adds. “We didn’t know you were in there. Which was probably a good thing. I would’ve gone soft if I knew you were at risk.”
“And going soft would’ve botched the mission,” Jay finishes.
“We should play a game of truth or dare.” Jen jumps to her feet, unbothered by her wound or Corey’s grunt of exasperation.
“We’re camping, and we can’t even play with fire.
So truth or dare?” She covers her eyes, extends her hand, then she spins and spins and spins.
Her feet kick up dust, and her nearly six-foot stance sways on the third or fourth rotation.
Finally, she stops with her finger pointing directly at Felix, then she uncovers her eyes and smirks at her choice. “Hmm… Truth or dare, Felix Malone?”
“Are we seriously doing this? We’re playing games?”
“It’s fun,” Jess argues. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not a fucking child! If my enemies found out I’m a badass only ninety-seven percent of the time, cos I’m playing games in the other three, my reputation would be ruined.”