Page 25 of Resolution

I flushed in embarrassment but reached up, removing the sunglasses I was still wearing to show Eddie my eye. I waved at it. “Work related, I assure you,” I said shyly, wanting to smack Raven on the arm.

Eddie walked closer with a little frown on his face. “Oh, what happened?”

“Long story,” I said lamely. “I got hit in the face with an exploding brick. Dolly will tell you all about it.”

Eddie’s frown turned into a warm smile as he glanced over at Dolly who stood by Nana’s chair, holding a glass of water and a tiny, plastic cup of pills for Nana’s morning medications. He looked back at us. “No doubt. I’m sure she’ll embellish the story. My girl loves to do that.”

I grinned, feeling the tightness in my cheek.

“Well, then, it really was nice to meet you,” he went on. “I promise we’ll take very good care of her.”

Raven reached out a hand and shook his again. He walked away to say goodbye to Angelica as I also shook Eddie’s hand. “We really can’t thank you enough for this.”

“It’s our pleasure.”

We were back in my old Ford F-150 five minutes later, headed out of Dolly and Eddie’s immediate neighborhood. When Raven made a right into a strip mall parking lot, I was confused until I saw the dark brown building with bistro tables and chairs in front of it. The brightly lit, red neon sign shaped like a coffee cup with steam rising above it, made me smile.

We’d filled our travel mugs with Starbucks that Dolly must have grabbed before we left the house, but those had been emptied long ago. I guess the mushroom coffee didn’t work for her either. I also knew we could probably get a muffin inside since we hadn’t eaten. We had a long day ahead of us, so I just gave in, not saying a word as Raven parked my old truck in a spot right in front of the coffee shop. I glanced around the strip mall which also housed a tobacco and smoke shop, a dog groomer, and a liquor store.

We got out of the truck, making sure we locked it. We were wearing our Glocks in shoulder holsters under our jackets. We’d both decided not to leave the firearms in the glovebox when we left the truck unoccupied. In this neighborhood, car thieves were bold enough to steal a car in broad daylight, and leaving the weapons in the truck would have been stupid. I sure as hell didn’t want to spend half my day in a south L.A. police station while some glowering, pissed off cop filled out paperwork for stolen firearms, and then waste more time trying to get a rental car.

As we walked past the bistro tables out front, I noticed how inviting the place was with red and orange flowers in huge terracotta pots flanking the entrance. The aromas coming from inside the coffee shop had me salivating as soon as I stepped inside. While we stood behind two other couples in line, I gazed longingly at the old-fashioned bakery case with iced cakes and muffins, trying to decide what I could get away with. Raven loved to tell me that he wanted me around for the rest of his life, which apparently meant I wasn’t allowed to have sugar. The place smelled heavenly. If he told me I was limited to a bran muffin, I’d already decided to ignore that order. Besides, the iced lemon cake looked mouthwatering.

We stepped up to the bearded, black man behind the cash register and gave our orders. When he smiled at Raven and began flirting, I straightened to my full height. The need to look as imposing as I could when Raven was being hit on didn’t strike me as overkill. It was almost reflexive. My partner was a beautiful man who got looks wherever we went. I chalked it up to being something I had to deal with. He never flirted back but the very idea that someone felt free enough to smile and flirt at someone who was clearly mine, made me crazy every time.

“Miguel?” Raven snapped his fingers in front of my face, and I came out of my thoughts a split second later. I glanced over at him, spotting the smile playing around his full lips. “Are you going to order?”

“Oh, sorry.” I shot the server a look and noticed him watching my mouth with great interest. “Gimme a large regular blend,uh…whatever bold you have, okay?”

“Yes, sir. That would be our American Warrior blend,” the man purred.

I was annoyed. “And throw in an iced lemon cake.” I glanced over at Raven who was watching me with an amused smirk. I knew he was biding his time and would give me shit about the cake as soon as we left the place. That was just his way. Raven would never embarrass me by objecting to the cake in front of the flirty barista, and for that, I was grateful. We stepped back to wait for our coffees and my cake so that another guy behind us could order. One of the two couples who’d gotten their coffees before us had taken up residence at one of the small, wrought iron bistro tables outside.

I turned back to Raven who’d moved over to the wall to examine a sturdy travel mug. He turned it over to check the price tag and then quickly put it back on the shelf. The barista called Raven’s name, and we took the tall paper cups he passed over the bakery case along with a small paper bag.

“Half and half and creamer are in the carafes by the door,” he said, flapping a hand in that direction. “Have a nice day.” I thought the wink he gave Raven was over the top.

“Yeah, have a nice day,” I grumbled.

I handed Raven his cup and he walked over to the small hostess stand. I walked to the door, looking out at the parking lot and the street beyond.

It took me a second to register what was happening when the female half of the couple at the bistro tables started screaming. Her chair crashed to the ground as she stood and turned to run at the same time her male companion fell face forward into his pumpkin bread a second later. She took off running through the parking lot, ducking as more bullets chased her.

I dropped my coffee cup as I pulled my gun and raced out the door, taking cover behind a car, scanning the surrounds, holding my Glock with both hands, trying to find the shooter. I couldn’t see anyone until an engine started with a roar, then spotted an SUV with chrome spinner rims and limousine tinted windows. It shot out from its parking space, reversing at speed, then raced by me, burning rubber out of the parking lot, and around the corner before I could even get the sights of my gun trained on it for a good shot.

I did, however, get the license plate, committing it to memory as two more black SUVs roared into the parking lot. They screeched to a halt in front of me before all four doors popped open and people scrambled out, holding weapons, wearing earpieces, and screaming at me.

“On the ground! Get on the ground!”

They rushed me as I complied, dropping to my knees right there on the asphalt, holding my gun to the side, doing exactly as I’d been commanded. Apparently, that wasn’t good enough for them because a second later, one of the black suited guys rushed up behind me and kicked me face first to the asphalt before stomping on my back. I felt the breath whoosh out of me in a rush and I turned my head, scraping my already bruised cheek against the hard surface to gasp for air, and met the toe of a boot coming at my head.

I woke up with a splitting headache. The pounding in my noggin wasn’t helped by the yelling of someone standing very close.

“Did he comply?”

“I-I, yes. He complied,” another voice replied.

“Did he drop to the ground like he was told?”

---