Chapter 4 Fred’s
FRED’S
“Run everything, blood work, toxic screen the full works,” My head pounded, and I wasn’t in the mood for fuck ups.
This was the closest we’d gotten to nailing down Midas and keeping him in prison.
I couldn’t let my personal problems interfere with my work.
This woman was a criminal, a beautiful, taunting criminal who made me feel things I had long given up feeling, but still a criminal.
Fuck me, I was pussy-whipped after one weekend.
I turned towards the local PD officer, “One of our guys will be in to process her soon.” He nodded his understanding, and I walked out of the room.
“Fucking Addams is here already,” groaned Simmons, who was staring into the waiting area with distaste.
“If he’s here she must be someone important whoever she is, I’m sure Addams wouldn’t be here for your run of the mill criminal otherwise,” I observed.
As if my words had caught his attention, he looked up, catching me mid-stir on the hours-old coffee the hospital still hadn’t replaced.
The man looked panicked, to say the least; his medium-brown complexion looked pale under the fluorescent lights; his thick curly hair, which was normally styled to perfection, fell in disarray and he was sporting a five o’clock shadow instead of his clean shave.
I took a bitter sip of the drink, raising an eyebrow as Addams rushed forward.
“You look like shit, did the plane smack you on the way here?” Simmons asked from her perch. I choked on the coffee, not expecting her to pop off like that. Addams screwed up his face in disgust as I sat back down. I still had an amused smile plastered on my face.
“Now you know as well as I do you can’t question my client without my presence detectives,” Addams spat out.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, she’s still unconscious, the paramedics had to sedate her for trying to stab one of them when they tried to touch her, but you’re welcome to wait out here with us,” I said as I flipped open the case file, willing the stress to leave my tired bones.
“Your client committed a crime, Addams, found at the scene as a matter of fact. How did you even know Miss Doe was with us?” I was grasping for a lead to the identity of this woman.
The name she gave me last weekend was a fake; there’s no ‘Mia Thompson’ despite my wishing for there to be.
“You’re not getting a name out of me if that’s what you are playing at. I’ll wait here until she’s awake and make sure you don’t question my client without me,” Addams scoffed, satisfied, and took one of the remaining seats.
I rolled my eyes as the man dropped his briefcase and a duffel bag.
Last week—June 21st
I had just tossed back the fourth round of whiskey as I sulked in the corner booth, my favorite bar in this city Fred’s. I should have called a cab an hour or two ago, but I was still here, still drinking.
“Another round sugar?” Tiffany called from the bar in question, and I nodded my appreciation.
Tiff may have been living in the city for the last six years, but she still had that southern charm and the accent that never let go.
I chuckled to myself remembering the first time she had called me hun or sugar or something like that.
I thought I was special, like it was my little invitation into her pants.
I quickly realized that I had been mistaken when a shotgun was promptly thrust into my nuts, the hammer back ready to go.
It was the last time I let my dick make the moves.
I should have cited her for the illegal firearm, but she would have put up a fight, and now knowing what I do now about Tiffany, I would have lost. I don’t fuck around with those crazy Southern mommas.
I checked my phone for the hundredth time that night.
Not that anything has changed since I checked ten minutes ago.
God, this was low, stood up on my own blind date.
I accepted three hours ago that the woman would not show up, and that’s when the whiskey flowed; it was straight to the comfort drink.
I’ll have to tell Simmons her friend never showed and never hear the end.
Tiff came around with the bottle, and I gave her a questioning look. “I didn’t order the bottle.”
“No but it’s paid for so bottoms up,” She pointed to the bar where a stunning woman in a white blouse and jeans waved towards me, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Tiff set the bottle down, and two chilled glasses, taking the one I had been drinking from.
“Thanks,” I muttered as Tiff walked back behind the bar.
I inclined my head to the woman, and she grabbed her purse and came over. I was in awe of the way she walked with power in her stride. This was a woman who knew what she wanted; there was no question of whether I was getting laid tonight. The only question I had was when it would happen.
She walked right to the booth and slid in opposite me. I poured two healthy doses and passed one towards her. She watched me with a cool, collected gaze, and I raised the glass in a toast.
The stunning woman spoke, “To a nine-hundred dollar bottle of whiskey, a devilishly handsome man I’d like to fuck and to the poor fool that stood you up.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I chuckled before taking a gulp. My throat bobbed as the cool liquid slid down.
“So,” I started as I set my glass down, curious when she hadn’t taken a swig.
“Oh, yeah,” she passed the glass back towards me then continued, “I should have probably mentioned to the bar lady I didn’t drink but I didn’t want the gesture to be awkward,” the laugh that followed was so genuine and infectious I couldn’t help but to laugh with her.
“That’s alright, I can get shitfaced enough for both of us,” I extended my hand across the table. “I’m Dustin, and might I say your demeanor is quite refreshing.”
The woman took my hand and shook it. Her hand felt buttery soft in my rough, calloused ones. I wonder if her body would feel just as silky once I sunk my cock deep inside her. I continued to smile at her across the table, her hand still rested in mine.
“I’m Mia, Mia Thompson, I’m in town on a business trip and you look like my kind of business.
So let’s cut out the small chat, you’ll have a few more drinks, we’ll laugh and joke around while subtly pushing closer together.
I’ll rest my hand on your thigh, you’ll lean in for a kiss and then we will be on our way to my apartment.
The rest of the night, well that’ll be up to you.
Sound like a deal?” Mia’s face was straight, and I laughed looking at her like she was crazy.
I didn’t want to end up with a heel in my crotch for some joke; I was very fond of my balls.
When she didn’t laugh with me, I stopped. She’s not joking, is she? I straightened up. “Oh yes ma’am, sounds like a plan.” Yes, ma’am, what are you, five? Mia smiled devilishly and dropped my hand. This woman was exceptional, not only was she smoking hot but just damn.
She slid next to me, grabbed the whiskey, pouring me another round. I couldn’t help what was probably the goofiest grin of my life from showing on my face. I mean, I have had many women in my life, but none as bold as this one.
Usually there was a push to get to know a woman, like one giant game of chess; one wrong move and you screwed it up.
This was like a dream. Instead of my having to be the one to lighten the mood for both of us, it was all Mia.
I took another swallow of whiskey. It was damn good whiskey, but I was more intrigued with her suggestive posture.
Mia had unbuttoned a couple of buttons on her blouse, leaving a nice view of her bra line.
“Well, I’m flabbergasted,” I couldn’t hide the truth from my voice.
“Why?” she questioned as she leaned forward, and my eyes roamed lower despite my best efforts.
“Is it because men generally are the pursuers? Can a woman such as myself want sex without pretenses? I saw a hunk of a man, with a strong tolerance being stood up and drinking his way into next week. I’ll be completely honest with you, I’m using you to fulfill my needs, and once we are done we will go our separate ways.
No bullshit, no strings attached,” she finished.
Damn. I swallowed my glass, really looking at her.
If she hadn’t said ‘no strings attached’ I might have just proposed.
How does a woman like this show up and not leave a lasting impression?
I set my glass down, grabbed my coat and slipped my phone back into my jeans pocket as I stood.
I reached out a hand towards her, and she took it.
I threw my coat over her shoulders and walked towards the bar with the whiskey bottle in tow.
“Here Tiff, how much do I owe you?” I passed the half-empty bottle back across the bar top.
“Nothin sugar, take care,” Tiffany replied as she stashed the bottle and walked off to attend to another patron.
I shook my head, ran my hands through my hair, slicking back the loose hair, and turned towards the door to head out. When I didn’t see Mia by the door, I thought I must have been super drunk to imagine a woman like that.
The bar door opened with a slight push. The rain pelted down on my head as I pulled out my phone to call a ride share, but stopped when a whistle hit my ears. Did she just grab my attention with a whistle like I was some dog? Dare I say, a good boy?
I chuckled, shaking my head. She stood next to a gray coupe, in my jacket, keys dangling from her finger.
Rain clung to her hair, plastering it against her temples, which only made her sexier, and my dick clearly appreciated it.
I walked right up to her; her eyes watched me like a hawk straining against the raindrops.
I wasn’t a tall man, so it wasn’t that much of a tilt for her to look me in the eye, but the way she gazed up at me expectantly had me shivering despite the warm raindrops around us.
“Ready to go?” Her lips parted, giving an opportunity only a fool would miss.
I took her lips into mine, coaxing them apart even more.
I wanted to spend hours exploring her mouth.
I needed more. Mia’s soft lips skimmed across my medium stubble, breaking the kiss as if she knew my exact thought.
I sighed, opened the car door for her and joined her on the other side.
Present day—June 27th
The station was buzzing with its normal Friday morning rush of criminals and sex workers getting caught. It wouldn’t be as bad as the weekend rush, but it was still busier than usual.
“I’ll get started on the paperwork, Cap wants to see you,” Simmons called out as she settled down at our joint desks.
I sighed as I made my way up the precinct steps towards the Captain’s office.
If I weren’t threatened with being fired at least once a week for behavior, something was amiss.
I expected today would be no different. I shouldn’t have laughed at a suspect, and I waited too long before disarming her.
I did not know if anyone knew our connection, and I wouldn’t be volunteering it.
I had to button that shit down, and pray no one saw me leave the bar with her that night.