Page 5 of Sweet Touch of Venom
“With people that look like them.” I quirk a brow in hope she’ll feel safer. Though, truthfully, she’ll never restore that part of her. The innocence that gave her the naivety that helped herstaya child, tofeellike a teenager. To know there is nothing to worry about besides annoying friends, their drama, and unnecessary homework. She’ll always remember this day, and it’ll haunt her forever.
Her head bobs and shoulders sink. “Thank you so much.” Her voice is shaky, her lip quivers, and her eyes low, but bright. I nod, pursing my lips before stepping back and walking off toward my truck. Footsteps descend from behind me, and I know exactly who it is.
“The boys and I are going out for a drink. You coming?”
I remove my gun from my holster. “No.”
Mal lets out a sigh. “Another rain check?”
“Something like that.”
“This was a good save today. We should celebrate.”
“Then you all should go do that. You’ve earned it.” I look at her while unstrapping my holster around me.
“Can you come just this once?” She does a pout face, which is horrible because it looks more like an evil witch than what the expression is intended to be. I look at her through hooded eyes, tossing my holster in the truck.
“You all deserve the win. Enjoy.” I say it because I mean it. They have earned it. Ever since getting my team together, we have stopped countless hostage situations and deaths, but it doesn’t disclose the fact that there is still much of it happening. I won’t waste my time cheering shot glasses of watered-down liquor only to realize and be reminded after the effects wear off with a splitting headache, of the horror happening. It’s why I don’t havefun. I don’t celebrate. There’s nothing to cheer for when the next person is getting snatched off the streets.
“Well, you know where to find us.” She pats me on my arm, giving me a light smile, then turns away to catch up with the others.
The minute I hop in my car, my phone rings, the name pops up on my Bluetooth screen. I shake my head with a smirk, ready to hear his bullshit.
I clicked the answer button. “Detective Gear. To what do I owe this nighttime pleasure?”
A grumble of annoyance vibrates from the other end. “Why do my men tell me the leftovers are shit to meat, like blocks of bricks?”
My brows scrunch. “Well, I wouldn’t word it that way.” I smirk, a vision of my arm swinging up and slamming down to chop off his leg. I shift into reverse.
“That’s exactly how they described it, and I can only imagine the gruesome mess that was left over.” He grunts in irritation, and that only tickles me like a feather.
“I got the job done. What more do you want? If you didn’t want me involved, then you wouldn’t have given my contact to the Sanchez’s.” Which I will get on his ass about later. I work underground, in the shadows; I don’t willingly give my number like we’re at a fucking bar.
“What I wanted was to bring the men into custody and have it done the right way. Not eventually sent over, cut into bits and pieces like beef cubes.” More of the shuffling with crunches of papers rustles in the background.
I put the car into drive and tear out of the abandoned lot. The red and yellow flashes from the ambulance disappear in the distance out of my rearview.
Cops and their fuckingdignity. Normally, I would have my guys cleaning up the mess. Storing away the scraps into non-existence. “I did your job for you. I got the kid, and she’s safe.”
He lets out a frustrated growl, more papers scattering and into the phone. I grin, looking out onto the road. “I do my job well. I don’t need you for that.”
“That’s what you think,” I say out loud.
“And you’re lucky you’re the best and the law shits bricks when they hear of you, but I’m not. I’ll beat your ass, Alvarez. Then throw you in jail and swallow the damn keys.”
“Is that any way to threaten a friend, a partner?” I feed into his irritation; it’s hilarious that he thinks he can do it. He couldn’t even if he tried.
“Partners don’t go against direct orders. You continue to abandon the principle of their law, which makes it very difficult to decide which side you are on.”
“I’m on my own side. You know this. I don’t answer to you or your people in too blue tight suits that sit behind the desk with coffee and donuts,” I say, typing into the GPS the location.
“That’s a standard cliché,” he murmurs while I’m talking.
“I,” I stretch my neck, straining my jaw from the redundant words, “do what the fuck I want. And the only reason you know me is because of our history. If not for that, I wouldn’t do the due diligence and speak to you, nor entertain your threats. Do you think your Janet would be alive if not for me? Also, don’t forget who’s the one that put the word out for you,Detective. So, I suggest you settle your steam and talk to me correctly.” I despise bringing up shit I’ve done out of the goodness of my heart. Well, not the good, it was for my own ill intention. I laugh out loud as I think about it. But it worked out well for us all.
“Screw you, I would’ve made detective with or without your help,” he spits out.
“Again, that’s what you think,” I scoff. “Don’t pretend you don’t miss this lifestyle.” I vividly remember his first slaughter. Just one. But that’s enough to judge a man.
