“I… Uh… No,” he admits with a small shake of his dark head. “But you’re my family Arielle, you and Austin. And I take care of my family.”
“We’re not your responsibility, Tim.” He starts to object, but I cut him off. “I know about the cop code; about taking care of your partner and his family as if they were your own. And I’ll admit that in the last two years I’ve taken advantage of the code, and you’ve never let me down. Perhaps it was wrong of me, but I was just so broken when Steve died. And you were always there. Always eager to help. So, I let you. I shouldn’t have. I should have stood on my own two feet a lot sooner. I’m sorry if I gave you the idea that I would always rely so heavily on you. Especially without giving you anything in return. But I’m ready to move on now. With or without Sam, I’m taking full control of my own life.”
I feel stronger, more capable, just saying the words. I don’t know what I’ll do about Sam, but I know that my days of relying on Tim are over.
When he doesn’t respond, I continue. “You deserve more than I can give you, Tim. You deserve passion and romance and happiness. And now that you’re not going to be waiting around for me to call on you, you can spend time finding those things.” I reach over the table and take his hand. “Steve would want that for you. I do too.”
Chapter 3
Seek and Destroy
Samuel Foster
Ifling my phone into the footwell in a rage. My palms are sweating as I fumble to get the key in the ignition. The engine of my Mustang roars as I gun it down the drive. The gates are barely fully open yet, but I don’t bother flinching as I hear the metal scrape along the sleek black paintwork of my car. If they close behind me, I don’t check to see it. They can stay open for all I care.
I flick a look at the clock on the dash as I pull into the traffic without slowing. I can get to her in twenty minutes if the traffic is light, but there’s no telling what I’ll head into. And I have no idea where Buford was calling from. He could be outside her house right now. The thought spurs a renewed sense of urgency, and I jam my foot onto the accelerator. I hear a string of horns sounding around me; hands are flailing aggressively behind windshields. From somewhere behind me, someone yells, “You fucking idiot!”
“Goddamn it, I don’t give a flying shit,” I say under my breath. I pull up to a traffic light that flickers from green to amber to red just as I’m reaching it. “Fuck!” I scream for the tenth time that night. “Come on. Come on. Come on!” I’m drumming my fingers on the steering wheel.
It’s taking too long. I throw a glance over my shoulder, spot a gap in the traffic and swing the steering wheel violently to pull the ‘Stang into the oncoming lane. More horns, more gesturing. I can hear someone yelling at me again, but I’m weaving in and out between cars. I flip on my hazard lights. Although I doubt it will make much difference, at least someone might realize this is an emergency and get the hell out of my way.
There’s a shriek ahead, and I slam on brakes as I look into the eyes of a terrified, almond-eyed woman. She’s part of a group of tourists ambling over the pedestrian crossing. Adrenaline surges through me. I can smell burning rubber. And about twenty-five cameras are aimed in my direction, filming my homicidal driving stint. If it wasn’t for the car’s ABS braking, I would have mowed them down like skittles. They probably would have filmed that too.
“Way to go viral, Foster,” I mutter. By the time the intersection is clear, at least a million years have dragged by. I use the time to reach down for my phone, flicking my eyes back and forth from the screen to the road ahead. No response from Arielle. Should I call Cory?
Waste of time. What would the fucker do, anyhow?He’s been so far up Buford’s ass he’d probably sell me out. Besides, I already fired the piece of shit.
Tim!
I got his number the night we were looking for Austin. I scroll for it and hit dial. It rings. And rings. And then it’s going through to an LVPD answering system. He’s not answering.
Jesus Christ! Why does nobody answer their fucking phones anymore?I fling the thing on the seat, rage swirling. I know that the emotion is actually based in fear. Everything is out of my control right now. I hate that more than anything.
Oh, really, Samuel?A voice inside me says mockingly.Isn’t this what you’ve been playing at all along? Tempting Fate? Pushing the limits? Now look what it’s gotten you.
I rein in my panic and force myself to drive calmly. There’s no point in wiping out a bunch of poor pedestrians just to save a couple of minutes. Even if I don’t hit anyone, my mad driving is going to draw more than just road rage. If the cops pull me over, I’ll be looking at a lot more than a few minutes’ delay. And right now, every second could mean the difference between life or death for Arielle.
“Me and my guys,”Buford had said.
Oh, my God. I don’t know what sick, twisted plans the man has, but if he lays one fat finger on that woman—
My foot’s flattening on the accelerator again, and I take a breath to pull myself back together. What started out as anxiety – fear – has turned into pure rage again. I feel a cold, calm anger descend, and somehow the journey flashes past me without further incident. I dim the headlights as I pull up outside Arielle’s place. Fuck knows why, but I’ve seen it done in a million movies.
There’s a sedan parked in the drive behind Arielle’s little car. I frown as I recognize it. Looks like Officer Tim is still trying to stake a claim. Then again, if he’s here, that’s a good thing. If he’s here, she’s probably safe. It’s why my instincts told me to call him earlier. Much as I hate to admit it, he’s looking out for her. Looking after her…better than I ever have.
I wait with my engine idling, trying to figure out what to do next. Then a pair of headlights a block away flash strangely. There’s a black SUV parked on the other side of the street. Another matching vehicle is parked a hundred yards farther down. The windows are tinted, but in the evening gloom, I can see through them clearly enough to make out several figures. Those cars are packed with big guys.
And a pair of shadowy figures has just slipped into the darkness behind the house.
Chapter 4
Okay
Arielle Nygard
Not up to cooking, I rustle up grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. I call Austin and he joins Tim and me in the kitchen and we chat about everyday things, keeping the conversation light. Once he’s finished his food, Austin returns to the TV room to watch his favorite TV show. Tim switched to beer once his shift ended and we sit in companionable silence after dinner, sipping adult beverages.
“You know,” Tim says after a while, “I’m glad we had the talk earlier.”
