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Night Fury: Second Act Part 10

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Frankie's leaving is f.u.c.king with my head. I close my eyes and try not to breathe in through my nose. This dumpster is rank. Resting my head against the ice-cold brick wall, I mentally lecture myself on how stupid I am for letting this happen.

This was a rookie mistake. And I'm embarra.s.sed by it.

I spot lights brightening the alley and I move to stand. I don't want to be here a second longer than I need to be, although I'm dreading the lecture I know one hundred percent I'm going to receive from Bob on the way home.

Still standing by the dumpster, I'm suddenly blinded by a bright light.

My eyes burn. I quickly lift my hand to block out the harsh a.s.sault on my peepers. I spot the gun before I get a chance to run. That's when I hear the words I never thought I'd hear in my lifetime.



"Hands up!" No, no, no! "You're under arrest."

Well, today just keeps getting better and better.

The light s.h.i.+ning in my eyes, I try to blink away the white spots that blur my vision but it's a futile attempt.

"Raise your hands where I can see 'em." The rough voice does nothing to calm my racing heart. "Now slowly, making no sudden movements, I want you to lower the mask. Can you do that, Miss?"

Squeezing my eyes shut, I swallow hard and nod.

My left hand gently pulls at my mask, uncovering my face for the officer to see.

An annoyed huff. "f.u.c.k. I knew it was you."

The light lowers and I open my eyes. They don't want to cooperate. I blink a little while before my vision clears. And I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry. I chuckle humourlessly, "You have got to be kidding me."

Marco smirks. "Nice to see you, too, baby."

The humour flees my face with such speed that immediately the air feels cooler around me. "Don't call me that."

His face quickly becomes expressionless. He clears his throat. "You have something to do with the murder of a squatter just up the way?"

I glare at him.

There's no point in answering. He already knows.

He scratches at his chin with the b.u.t.t of his gun. "Wanna tell me why she deserved it?"

Because she was feeding drugs to her babies to keep 'em quiet while she did her begging routine during the day.

I continue to glare at him. He loses his cool. "Dammit, Cat, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

My eyes roll of their own accord. I add in a scoff for good measure.

He takes a step closer to me. I wish he hadn't done that. He smells amazing. Not to mention the way his uniform hugs his body makes me want to repeat history. Stupid, stupid history. I tell myself that's just the adrenaline from the kill. Neither I nor my brain believe that.

He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger. "You think I'm gonna snitch on you, honey? Maybe you should ask yourself why you're not in jail right now and why the f.u.c.k I've been demoted from detective to late night patrol and desk work."

Jerking my chin from his grip, I think on that for a second, never taking my eyes off of him. "You didn't give us up?"

"No, ma'am."

I don't understand. "Why? You don't owe us anything."

His gaze moves down to my lips. My heart skips a beat as he mutters distractedly, "I'd do anything for another taste." Shaking his head, he answers with, "I know I don't owe you a d.a.m.n thing. But it just didn't feel right."

Why can't I just be a normal teenager sometimes? "Listen, if this is because of the s.e.x-"

His eyes narrow as he cuts me off with a dangerously calm, "It was more than s.e.x and you know it." He regains composure quickly and adds, "It was because I support what Mirage is and what you do there. I'm a cop. I know how often people can get off on a technicality. And it's not right. You fix what I can't."

I can't help it. A part of me is so desperate for contact right now. When I reach out and place my hand on his chest, he wraps an arm around me. He lowers his face as I close my eyes. Our lips close, he runs his nose down mine.

My stomach flutters. But something isn't there.

He pecks my lips, softly, before pulling me closer and taking my mouth in a deep, controlled kiss.

Hmm.

This isn't how I remembered it. Eyes closed, an image is suddenly projected in my mind's eye. Xavier pulling me close in the kitchen, laughing out loud. What little feeling I had towards Marco immediately dissipates.

The hand against his chest pushes and he steps back. He watches me cautiously. "Sorry. Old habits, you know?"

I nod but remain silent.

After a moment, I ask more out of curiosity than anything, "So... you're letting me go, right?"

He lifts a hand and scratches at his short hair. I learned this is something of a nervous habit for Marco. "Yeah, honey. I'm letting you go." He looks away and mumbles, "Again." He walks away from me, but before he hits the street, he turns and states, "If you ever need help, any help at all, you call me. I'm at the precinct. My surname is Watts. Officer Mark Watts."

As he hits the street, I hear Marco call out an annoyed, "Put it away, Bob. I didn't hurt her. f.u.c.k, man. Get a grip."

A car starts then takes off. Not a second later, Bob is by my side, holding me up. "You okay?"

I don't answer but wrap an arm around his waist as he walks me to the car. We get in and go along our way. Halfway home, Bob asks, "You want to talk about it? Any of it?"

I speak into the window as I lean my forehead on the cool gla.s.s. "No. Thanks."

"Okay. But you know I have to ask."

"Marco?"

He sighs, "Yeah."

Feeling bitter at losing my first lover and my best friend to s.h.i.+tty circ.u.mstances, I answer a cool, "No need to worry, Father Robert. Our secret is safe."

"You sure?"

My jaw steels. I respond in an icy tone. "I would bet your life on it."

We drive the rest of the way in complete silence.

Chapter Fifteen.

I smile as I watch Tomas read a hundred miles a minute. He flicks through the pages of his biology textbook in record speed as he sits on the floor gently rocking. The funny thing is that although it looks as though he's not taking a thing in, I know he is.

Super smart, I think as I shake my head lightly.

Xavier is packing the rest of their things. They didn't come with much. I know it shouldn't be taking this long. My chest aches as I wonder whether Xavier is putting off leaving because he wants to stay. In my heart, I believe he wants to stay. That he wants to stay with me.

He's the first friend I've made in years. He's the first friend I've made outside of the church, outside of Mirage, period.

I walk across the room. Without a thought, I open up a juice box and bring it over to Tomas. He takes it without looking up and I smile sadly. We've already formed habits over the last week and a half. I'll be sad to give them up.

Kneeling behind him, I wrap my arms loosely around his neck and he stops rocking. I gently pull him back into me and squeeze him tightly. "I'm going to miss you. Who's going to feed me soggy cereal now?"

He puffs out a breath I can only a.s.sume is an attempt at laughter and pats my hand with his wrist. I press my lips to his cheek and try to ignore the thickness in my throat and the tingling in the bridge of my nose.

I still have Ari. I guess that's something.

Sniffling, I tell him, "Don't you let anyone tell you you're different or that something's wrong with you. You're exceptional. You're smart. And you're funny. You'll always have a friend in me, buddy. Always. If you ever need anything, you find a way to get to me." Standing, I pat his shoulder, "You come visit me when you can."

My legs straighten and the hairs at the back of my neck stand. I turn and see Xavier in the doorway, holding a black duffle bag. He looks different today. Smartly dressed in blue jeans, a black tee and sneakers. Cleanly shaven, his hair is styled as neatly as I've seen it. His eyes drift down to his brother then back up to me. With a jerk of his chin, he places the bag on the ground and opens his arms.

This is a bad idea.

It's a little known fact that when a woman is emotional, a hug usually tips the scale from I'm okay to dear G.o.d, will the pain ever stop.

But I need to be in those arms.

My feet move with a mind of their own till I'm safely coc.o.o.ned in Xavier's hold. He wraps one arm around my waist and strokes my arm with the other while resting his chin on my head. There's something profoundly gentle about this hard man.

He speaks so quietly, my ears strain to hear him. "I know you're going to think this is bulls.h.i.+t, but you helped me through this." I bury my nose into his collarbone. I'm rewarded with a gentle squeeze. "You're a pistol, Cat. I don't know what I would've done without some little spoilt princess to argue with. Ouch!" He jumps away from me, chuckling, after I pinch the skin at his waist.

Grinning from ear to ear, he bites the tip of his tongue and I don't even try to hide my returning smile. "Well, seems I have something of a magnetic effect towards a.s.sholes, so this friends.h.i.+p was bound to happen."

His amused gaze turns soft. "You're pretty cool, you know, for a nun and all."

I can't help but tease. "Thought I was a pistol."

His lip tilts at the corner. "Yeah, we already went through this. You're a pistol all right. But only for me."

My face heats.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph! When did our teasing become blatant flirting?

And why do I want to flirt back?

It's probably been a long time since he's been with a woman. You know, with prison and all. The last time he probably went on a date was with a guy names Bob in the last toilet stall.

My body shudders at the thought.

Standing close to him, I can't help but reach out and touch the back of his hand. "You ever need an escape, you come see me."

He looks up and away from me. "I can't always come here when I've got a problem, Cat. I need to learn to deal with things. I mean, f.u.c.k, I'm an adult. I have to start acting like one."

My fingers curl around his. I look him dead in the eye and repeat firmly, "If you ever need anything, come see us." He rolls his eyes and I know he's about to argue with me, so I fight dirty. "Please. For Tomas's sake."

His eyes narrow to slits. "When you fight, you f.u.c.kin' fight." He shakes his head and mutters, "Pistol."

Still holding onto him, I turn to watch the rocking back of a guy I've come to have strong feelings for. Although we can't communicate well, we get by okay. I make him smile. He makes me laugh. He has all the affection in the world saved up for me. And I would give him all of mine if I felt I had it in me to give.

Xavier breaks my thoughts with, "He's different with you."

"I know." My response is neither triumph nor gloating. My response is humbled and humbling.

His fingers play with mine. "I spent days wondering why. I mean, you weren't doing anything I wasn't. It took me a while to realise that even though we were essentially treating him the same, your delivery was a lot smoother than mine." His eyes dart sheepishly to mine. "Tomas doesn't respond well to anger."

No. He doesn't.

As we continue to stay in close proximity, touching, connecting, I chance a question I have no right to ask. "Why did you do it?"

His expression turns confused. "Do what?"

I speak softly, as if to soften the blow of my intrusive question, "Why did you do whatever is it you did to end up in prison when he needed you?"

His body stiffens.

I step closer to him, placing a gentle placating hand on his stomach. "I know I have no right to ask and I won't judge you by your answer, I'm just trying to understand. Friends do that kind of thing."

He looks at his brother. His eyes lose focus on everything else in the room. Tomas is his centre. But his answer is gut-wrenching. He whispers in agonising softness, "I did it to get away from him."

Chapter Sixteen.

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