Page 10 of Dirty Cops Next Door

“I heard him whispering to me, so I moved, pulling him to my ear so I could hear him. He was whispering ‘keep moving forward, Grant, don’t give up.’ He’d taken three bullets to the abdomen and one just above his heart. The warmth was his blood spilling all over me.”

I took Grant’s hand, the pain obvious on his face.

“Did they catch who did it?” It was all I could think to ask.

“Yeah. They didn’t know it until the next day, but they’d shot up the wrong court, they’d wanted the apartments two streets over. It was all one huge fuck-up!” He stood, pacing between the table and the fridge opposite. “That’s why I won’t let the same shit happen to Eric, and it’s also why I think Eric not giving up on his friend is important. Eric is Mark’s Tim, his David. I met David when I finally finished Tim’s dream and he brought me out here.”

“So you think this is more a sign of maturity than childishness?” I hadn’t really thought of it like that.

“Definitely. Eric is a smart kid; he’s also kind. He won’t mess with the drugs, but he’ll be around them if it saves Mark. He’s obviously got it in his head to be Mark’s savior. We just have to hope it doesn’t turn out like it did with Tim.”

“Why can’t you just arrest Mark’s dad and get it over with then? Everybody in town knows he’s the one bringing all those opioids in.” I’d learned as much in my short time at the paper.

“We have to have proof, don’t we? Take that explosion, for example. That was all Avery Winslow’s goons, not Avery himself. From what we’ve learned, his name doesn’t appear on anything, his goons arrange everything. And we want him, not the goons.” His fingers tightened on the glass he still held in one hand, but he relaxed them before the fragile cup shattered. “We don’t want the minnows, we want the shark.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” I stood up to put my empty glass in the sink, brushing past him.

“I’m going to take care of this, Toni. I want you to know that. I’m not going to let anything happen to Eric if I can help it.” He stopped me as I moved past him and I was suddenly aware that we were alone in my kitchen.

His hand moved from my elbow, up to my face, stopping when his fingers tangled in my hair above my ear. I could feel my eyes going round as my lips parted and I wanted whatever came next. The weeks, years of behaving myself, of never letting anyone in, of being alone in the world of grownups, had taken its toll, and I wanted, just for a moment, what everyone else had.

Solace in another human being. Human contact. Passion.

His face moved toward mine as pressure from his hand guided my face to his. My body moved, straining toward his as he made a soft sound deep in his throat.

“Do you know how fucking tempting you are?” He whispered the words, close enough that his lips teased mine.

I didn’t answer. I just waited, my eyes closing as his lips came ever closer. Almost.

I inhaled his scent, anticipating the pressure of his lips against mine, longing for it. My hand went to his shoulder, clutching at him to stay upright.

His lips fused to mine suddenly, and I gasped into his mouth as his tongue quickly swiped at my bottom lip, before he pulled away, only to come back for more as he turned my head to a better angle.

Both of my hands were on his strong, broad shoulders, clutching him closer, no light showing between our bodies as I pushed him against the fridge.

Our tongues tangled as the kiss deepened, and I sighed a moan as I felt his hardening length against my lower abdomen. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. I knew it was dangerous, I knew it could cost Eric and me everything, but I wanted this. Just this one moment with Grant.

“Sis, I’m home!” I heard Eric open the front door and moved away from Grant, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I...” I whispered as I pulled my eyes from Grant. I wanted to tell him to stay, that I wanted him, that I would get Eric sorted out and we’d continue this. But he was already pulling away.

My brows knitted as he moved away from the fridge, his hands going to the back pockets of his black tactical work pants. I’m not sure why the detectives wore the military-style garb but it looked incredible on them both. Even if David was still on my shit list.

“Hey, Grant, how are you, bro?” Eric came into the kitchen, bumping Grant’s fist before he went to the fridge. “Toni, we got any orange juice? I’m about to die of thirst!”

He hadn’t noticed the tension between Grant and me then or the way we were still staring at each other.

“I think we do, yeah,” I said, obviously distracted, but trying to pretend I wasn’t.

“Cool. I have some homework to do. See you, Grant.” Eric breezed out of the kitchen, as if he hadn’t created a maelstrom of tension, totally unaware he’d done just that.

“I’d better go too, Toni. You have things to do. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you later.”

“Okay. See you.” I didn’t know what else to say. I knew what I wanted to say, but he’d pulled back like a turtle that had seen a menacing shadow. What had I done wrong?