For You by Kristen Ashley
“We need to talk about that kiss yesterday,” I announced, not really wanting to talk about it but feeling, considering this morning’s circumstances, that we needed to get things straight.
“We will,” Colt agreed. “Not now,” Colt evaded.
“Now.”
He pulled open the top of the cat food tin but speared me with a glance. “Not now.”
“Now.”
He turned fully to me; Wilson noticed this delay and started meowing again.
“I got work,” he repeated.
“You already said that.”
“This conversation’s gonna take time. I’m tellin’ you I don’t have that.”
“Well, make it!”
He took one step to me and had his hand wrapped around the back of my neck so fast I didn’t even get a breath in while he was doing it. It was then I felt a little bit of Lore’s pain. I’d seen Colt move fast yesterday when he took Lore down, I’d even seen him do it before he kissed me but I still wasn’t prepared for it.
He yanked me close and I almost didn’t get my hands up to break my fall, but I did and they landed on his chest.
“I got home at dawn. I was in that bed with you for half an hour. I was in it because I’m not takin’ any fuckin’ chances. Someone who can get through a door can get through a window. They get through the window, they get me first. Now, do you get me?”
My mind blanked, my stomach curled sickeningly and I stared at him.
“You found something last night,” I whispered.
He let me go and turned back to the cat food.
“Colt.”
Colt forked the food into the bowl. “We found something. When he visited, he spent time there.”
“Oh my God.”
I didn’t know what this meant but the escalation in Colt’s protection said it was no good. This wasn’t about a madman invading my mind by stealing my thoughts written on a page. This was something that freaked him out and he was a cop, I didn’t suspect much freaked him out.
He moved to put the food down for Wilson and Wilson settled down belly to the floor on all fours and stuck his face in it.
“What’d you find?”
He straightened and looked at me. “I’ll know more this mornin’. They were still working when I left.”
“What’d you find?”
“I gotta shower.”
“Colt –” I started but he was moving away.
I stared at the hall he disappeared into long after he disappeared. Even after I heard the shower go on in the master bath.
After awhile it hit me that he was protecting me with more than him keeping close, close enough to sleep in his huge bed with me. He was protecting me by not sharing and I decided to wipe my mind clean.
Some folk, I suspected, would want to know.
I didn’t want to know.
I knew enough and it was tearing at my insides. I could use a break.
By the time he came back out, hair wet, slicked back but still curling around his neck, dressed in jeans, boots, shirt, badge clipped to his belt, shoulder holster on, gun clipped in place, blazer bunched in his hand, I’d made coffee and toast. I’d also poured him some coffee and it was keeping warm in a travel mug.
He hit the kitchen, shrugging on his blazer and I was turned to him, one hand wrapped around his mug, the other hand holding up a plate with four slices of buttered toast.
“I made toast and coffee,” I said.
He was looking at my hands but when I spoke his eyes came to my face. Something in them struck me funny, not in a bad way, in a good way. That look settled in beside his smile from yesterday, the one that was still lodged in that private place deep inside.
When I thought he’d stop moving toward me, he didn’t and I had to jerk my arms to the sides to give him space and he took it. His hand came up and around the back of my head, fingers in my hair, fisting and tugging down. I made a surprised noise that came from deep in my throat when I had no choice but to tilt my head back before his mouth came down on mine.
This kiss wasn’t hungry, wet and desperate. No tongues. It was hard, closed-mouthed and swift.
It still did a number on me and I felt a curl that I liked a lot between my legs.
He let me go, grabbed the mug and took the slice of toast off the top of the stack.
“We’ll talk about that kiss later too,” he said, turned and walked away. At the door he turned again and ordered, “Lock this after me. I’ll send Jack in. You’re not alone, Feb, ever. Not even in the storeroom at J&J’s. Not even to walk down to Meems’s. You move; you make sure you have a shadow. Yeah?”
I stood there still holding up the plate and nodded.
“Stay safe, baby,” he said, the cop authority gone from his voice, this statement was quiet and sweet and it strolled right into that private place inside me, took its seat and sat back, intending like the others to stay awhile.
“You too,” I replied and he left.
It took awhile for me to pull myself together. The only reason I did was because the door was unlocked and I hated it but that scared the shit out of me.
I put down the plate, walked into the living room and locked the door. On the way back to the kitchen, the phone rang.
I hit the kitchen and reached out to the phone. It was an old fashioned kitchen wall phone, yellow, boxy, with push buttons and a long, curly cord so you could wander the kitchen with it held in the crook of your neck while you were doing shit. I liked it mostly because I could imagine wandering Colt’s kitchen with it held in the crook of my neck.
I put it to my ear and said, “Hello?”
No one spoke.
I felt a curl again, it was north, in my belly, and it wasn’t pleasant.
“Hello?” I repeated, tentative this time.
“Um… hello, is Colt there?”
Oh shit, it was Melanie.
“Melanie?” I asked, though I didn’t want to.
“February?” she asked back and I knew she didn’t want to either.
Oh shit, shitshitshitshitshit.
“Uh… yeah. How’s it going?” Oh my God, I hated this.
“Um… it’s good. How’re you?” She hated it too.
All I could think about was Romeo and Juliet and Nancy and I was going to give Dee what for the next time I saw her for putting that crap in my head.
“Things aren’t great. You maybe didn’t hear but I found Angie –” I was going into explanation mode; I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.
“I heard,” Melanie cut me off then paused before she went on. “Poor Angie.”
“Yeah.”
“Is Colt there?” she repeated.
“No, he, um… left. You just missed him.”
“I’ll call his cell.”
“Melanie –”
“It’s not important anyway.”
“Mel –”
“You take care, Feb.”
“Mel –”
“See you.”
Then she hung up. I closed my eyes tight and put the phone back in the receiver. I heard the key scrape the side door and Dad walked in.
“’Mornin’ darlin’.”
It worked for me that Dad didn’t put the “good” in that greeting. It was not a good morning, it was just morning or to be precise, it was a shit morning.
“’Mornin’ Dad,” I replied.
* * * * *
My cell rang about five minutes after Morrie, Dad and I opened J&J’s. The display said “Colt calling.”
I flipped it open and put it to my ear, “Hello?”
“Hey.”
“Everything okay?”
“You know what I told you about last night?” he asked, “before I wiped the floor with your ass at pool.”
I was a good pool player. I’d worked in bars all my life, I had lots of practice. Still, Colt wasn’t lying when he said he wiped my ass. It pissed me off but he did. It was embarrassing.
“You didn’t wipe the floor with
“Honey, I so wiped the floor with your ass.”
I rolled my eyes and said, “Whatever.”
I heard his soft laughter and it struck me he was laughing and these days there wasn’t much to laugh about.
“I remember about last night,” I said.
“We got him.”
I felt a weird sense of elation hit my gut and slither around in a happy way. It wasn’t me working the case, it wasn’t me going out and seeing dead bodies. But it was me hearing Colt’s relief mixed with a hint of triumph. He’d got the bad guy and he was pleased.
“Who was it?”
“Calvin Johnson.”
I could believe that though I was still surprised. I knew Cal Johnson, had known him forever. He was opinionated and shared those opinions often and loudly. He also had a short fuse. He was a nice guy and I could say this because he’d always been nice to me, considering I wasn’t a gang banger. But he had a definite sense of right and wrong and I didn’t think it would take much to tip him over the edge of making something right even if he went about it wrong.
“I can see that,” I told Colt.
“IMPD caught him last night. Fluke. Saw him loitering, older, white guy, rough, black neighborhood, he stood out. He was probably out hunting. They stopped for a chat, saw the gun on his belt, hauled him in. They found out he was from town and started questioning. He was uncooperative but he flipped for me.”
“You got him to confess?”
“Yeah, started as a rage. His brother lives in LA, his great-niece was picked up by a gang for an initiation and they did a number on her. So much anger, didn’t know what to do with it so he found a way to release it. But then he found he liked the way it felt, cleaning up the streets, so he kept doin’ it.”
Poor Cal. I’d heard about gang initiations. At his age, his great-niece must be in her early teens, if that. I was surprised I didn’t know about his niece though. News travelled fast, bad news faster. Cal had kept it to himself which wasn’t smart. Meant he needed to get it out someway and he picked the wrong way.
“Still,” Colt continued, “I think he was glad he was caught. He liked it and was starting to get off on it but he’s got enough good in him to know it was wrong and the dark path he was on was gettin’ darker. That’s probably why he dumped the bodies so they could be found.”
Catching Cal, Colt and the IMPD had saved the lives of some gang members which I supposed was a good thing. He also stopped bodies being dumped in the town limits which was definitely a good thing. He’d also stopped Cal turning his soul any blacker which was also a good thing. Colt had scored and it was huge.
Because of that I couldn’t stop myself from saying quietly, “Good job, babe.”
He was silent a moment then he asked, “You at J&J’s?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t work tonight. We’ll get Reggie’s, take it home, drink beer and I’ll give you a chance to salvage your pool reputation.”
I knew he said this because he wanted to celebrate, what freaked me out was that he wanted to celebrate with me. Worse, that sounded like a kind of date except the “take it home” part which made it sound like something else entirely.
“Colt –”
“I’ll talk to Jack, he or Jackie can cover if you’re on.”
“Colt –”
“I’ll pick you up at six.”
Definitely a date-ish type statement.
“Listen to me, Colt –”
“Later, baby.”
Then he hung up.
I was finding it hard to breathe. This wasn’t because I was angry, this was because I wanted to eat pizza, drink beer and play pool in Colt’s den with Colt. I also wanted other things too, if I was honest. I wanted them so much it was too much.
That wasn’t what was making it hard to breathe.
What was making it hard to breathe was that I knew I could have them if I just reached out and took hold. And the excitement and anticipation of knowing that was unbelievably thrilling.
Letting go of the pain and deciding to live my life before it was too late meant something else was happening too. I was letting Colt back in, or he was pushing his way in, probably both. Golden Sundays and fucking fantastic kisses and a man going all out to protect you had a way of making that kind of shit happen. I didn’t know if I was ready to take Dee’s advice, forgive him, forget and move on. Even after all of these years, even learning moment to moment these last few days what kind of man he’d turned out to be, I had to admit, I was still shit scared.
* * * * *
By three thirty I knew the news had broken or some of it anyway.
I knew this because for a Monday afternoon we had way more people in the bar than usual.
I knew it too because Morrie finally told me after I cornered him because he and Dad were getting called aside to have private conversations with patrons.
Firstly, everyone knew Colt and I had had scenes in this bar and at the Station.
Secondly, everyone knew that one second, Colt and I were circling each other and barely speaking, the next second we were having scenes in this bar and at the Station and more, I was living with him.
Thirdly, not only had half my neighbors watched Colt and the boys going in and out of my apartment in the wee hours of the morning but also Chris and Marty had canvassed, knocking on my neighbors’ doors asking them if they saw anyone going into my house. They’d undoubtedly had their chats with Chris and Marty, gone back into their apartments and got right on the phone. Most of my neighbors were retired and this was gossip too juicy not to share.
Not to mention, Lore came in and did his thing, exposing me as someone who was assisting the investigation which didn’t help matters.
Lastly, my cell never quit ringing. I’d never been more popular. Some, my closer friends, I picked up and gave them a kind of “I’m busy”/“No Comment”/“I’ll call you later” malarkey. Others I didn’t pick up at all.
The good news was no one was shying away from me or sending daggers at me with their eyes. They were coming into the bar and having drinks not avoiding it. I felt mostly curiosity and some concern coming at me and I could handle that.
So the afternoon was crawling on and my drama was taking a new turn. I wondered if it lasted much longer if I’d eventually get used to it. I doubted it.
Morrie walked in with Palmer and Tuesday in tow. They raced to the office shouting, “Hey Granddad! Hey Auntie Feb,” and disappeared behind the office door.
I’d been in the office that day and the kids had done a number on it. Nothing on the desk was where it’d been before and the computer was totally fucked up and had about fifty more applications than it had when they walked in yesterday. Still, I liked them being in the bar which was where Morrie and I spent a lot of our childhood and seeing as loved ones were close, it was a good place to be.
Morrie had his cell to his ear as he made his way behind the bar. “Yeah, Dee, I picked ‘em up from school. Things are busy here. You mind comin’ ‘round after work to pick them up?”
He was close so, at his words, I punched him in the arm hard.
“Yow!” he shouted and I bugged my eyes out at him. “Nothin’ Dee, darlin’, just that Feb’s in a mood.” He chuckled and said, “That’s it, babe. Later.”
I was still glaring at him when he flipped his phone shut.
“What was that for?” he asked me.
“It was for tellin’ Dee to come get the kids. She’s tired, it’s Monday, Mondays suck. She doesn’t want to go out of her way to get the kids. And anyway, Dad’s here, we’re busy but he’d cover for you.”
“Well, she’ll want to come out of her way today,” he replied.
“Yeah, why? Because your natural charisma will brighten her day?”
“No,” he shot back. “Because I got reservations at Costa’s tonight and she loves that place. We’re gonna have a family dinner. It’s a surprise.”
I snapped my mouth shut, s
Morrie was going to score huge on this.
“Got anything else to say?” Morrie asked and I didn’t so I didn’t say anything.
All of a sudden I heard Dad laugh and just as sudden his arms were around me and he was giving me a big hug. I hugged him back automatically. Then when I got over my surprise that I was all of a sudden being hugged by my Dad in the bar for no reason, I felt his hug and the feel of it almost made me cry.
Dad was a hugger, he was affectionate like Morrie, but I hadn’t had a hug like that from my Dad in a long… fucking… time.
That was when I really hugged him back.
“I love my girl,” he whispered in my ear before he let me go.
I had tears in my eyes when I said to his back, “Love you too, Dad.”
Morrie put his big mitt on the side of my head and gave it a shove.
I took a deep breath to control the tears and gave my brother a smile because with his head shove, he was saying he loved me too.
And somehow I felt like I’d come home. Not like when I got home two years ago to stay for good or any of the times I’d come home to visit, but like I’d really, finally, come home.
* * * * *
The Terrible Trio showed up at quarter passed five.
For me this meant Jessie, Meems and Dee.
They ambled in, eyes on me and I knew I was in trouble.
Dee, I was expecting. The three of them together meant they’d planned this and it sent bad tidings.
“Hey babe,” Morrie called to Dee.
“Hey, hon,” Dee replied, “be with you in a sec. Gotta have a word with Feb before I take the kids home.”
There it was. Trouble.
Morrie read Dee’s tone. He read it and it made him do two things: grin and skedaddle.
Jessie, Meems and Dee bellied up to Colt’s end of the bar and I approached.
“Get you gals a drink?” I asked.
“Not here for libations, girlie,” Jessie answered.
I knew that. Shit.