“On it.” He hangs up without another word.
Much later, around three in the damn morning, the lawyer insists the DA either arrest the singer or set her free.
I suppose Sam calling the police chief helped. Her dad lights a fire under their butts, paperwork inexplicably gets processed, and we all get to go home.
Now, back in Brooklyn, both ladies quietly chat in our living-room-slash-office-space while I throw cushions on the floor. Springs creak, metal feet clunk, and our convertible couch becomes a bed.
“Mew!” Catrina zooms up the spiral staircase, pushes her head between the bars, and gets stuck.
“Meow, meow, meow.” She tries to back out but the angle is all kinds of wrong.
“Calm down, kitty. I’m a-comin’ to the rescue.” Despite her panic, I can’t help but snicker as I take the steps two at a time.
In the loft bedroom, I tilt her fuzzy head, and once she’s free, cradle her in my arms. Crisis averted, I walk her downstairs and set her down on the floor as Sam makes the bed.
“When is your hubby arriving?” My partner bites down on the edge of a throw pillow and forces it into a cotton case.
Sienna, wearing one of my t-shirts, sighs and slides under the covers. “He should be here around ten. Thank you so much but you shouldn’t’ve gone to so much trouble. I would’ve been fine at the hotel."
“It’s no problem.” Standing, my lovely lady stretches her lithe body and yawns. “Well, I don’t know about you guys but I’m ready for bed.”
She glares at Catrina. “If our kitten drives you crazy, you can lock her in the bathroom. We keep water, toys and kitty litter in there, just in case. Sometimes, she freaks out for no reason.”
Our pet turns twice counterclockwise, once the other way, and purrs loudly as she cozies up to our guest.
“Nice act, Cat.” Chuckling, I run back to our table and snatch my laptop.
Once upstairs, I pull a fabric curtain across the railing while downstairs, Sienna makes a call.
“She’s been trying to reach her brother. He lives close by.” Sam haphazardly folds clothes and places them on a tiny chair in an eave next to the dresser.
Switching off the light, she settles under the covers. “Thus begins the case of the electrocuted musician. The police can’t possibly think Sienna had anything to do with it, right?”
Her sweet butt wiggles at my cock, he swells and Sam giggles. “Tell him to stand down.”
“He don’t take orders from me, sugar. You’re the one causin’ all the commotion.” As much as I’d love to sink into her, we’re both tired and need sleep more than sex.
That being said, I rest my arm around her waist and pull her tight. “Night, darlin’.”
“’Night tough guy. Did you set your alarm?”
“Sure did.” The bedroom landscape falls away and I drift into oblivion.
I don’t know how or when it happened, but suddenly, I’m back in Afghanistan.
Fuck it all to hell.
“Move it!” I shout to my pal, but he can’t hear over the rapid-fire assault weapons.
He guns the engine and in Technicolor-slo-mo, I relive the worst seconds of my life. First, there’s the explosion. Then, my eardrums burst and I’m thrown high. Airborne, I fire on the insurgents trying to kill me. Lucky, under the SUV, bleeds out like a mother-fucker but blinks. The rest in the vehicle, lie still.
Shit. Shit. Shit. I lived through this once. Hell, no. I’ve done this thousands of times. Why am I back? Even while some part of my brain registers it can’t be real, I don’t dare stop firing as I crawl forward.
Somewhere, overhead, a strange and yet familiar alarm sounds as the enemy continues to fire. I need to save Lucky but as I turn, the jeep’s now a stage.
What the fuck?
The damn noise keeps buzzing, I open my eyes, and a cat pounces.
