Page 65 of Castling the Rook (Checkmate 3)

“We’ll be back around three. Hopefully with a couple prisoners and enough confessions to shut Hayes down for good. It ends tonight,” he declares. “It can’t go on. Not in my town, and not while I’m chief. Any questions?”

With a round of ‘no, sirs’ Alex turns to his best friend and nods. “Let’s move. Don’t die, or I’ll shit on your grave.”

Laughing, Oz picks up his M4 and walks toward the front of the station. “I love you, X, but we need to work on your communication. Instead of being mean, you could just admit your feelings for me. It wouldn’t kill you to admit you love me.”

“Shut up and move.”

* * *

Hours of silence.Hours of bouncing my knee and chewing gum to relieve energy that just won’t be contained while I sit behind my desk and watch the radio. I tap my boot against the corner of my desk, twine my fingers together, untwine, twine. Every thirty minutes or so, the radio crackles and I receive an almost inaudible ‘on site, all clear’ from Alex, then the world falls silent again.

This isn’t a big city cop shop where detectives are in and out all night and criminals are paraded from cage to interview room on a constant rotation. This is a small town where most of my night shifts include too much Solitaire, naps, and a drum solo with my hands on my scarred desk.

Standing when I can’t take it a moment longer, I bounce on the balls of my feet and close my eyes to push the anxiety out of my body. “Jesus, Cruz. Pull it together.”

Inappropriately – but not at all unexpected – my thoughts turn to Dee and leave me wondering what she’s doing right now. It’s well past midnight, so she’s probably sleeping… or out partying. The first is acceptable, the second makes me sick, so I allow myself to imagine her alone in bed, warm and tucked up beneath fluffy blankets. I imagine dark hair covering her face, and blue eyes that dance with something that’ll probably make me roll mine.

I shouldn’t have taken her bait yesterday. I shouldn’t have allowed her fear of commitment hurt me. Instead, I should think of her delicate body beneath mine, so perfect, she brings me to my knees. I think of her succulent thighs in my hands, and her smart tongue on my skin. She can cut a man down with her sass, or build him up with her approval. She can make me angry with the bullshit she spouts off, or reduce me to a withering mess when she slides her tongue along my flesh.

Taking out my cell, I swipe the screen and stare at the text chat we’ve scarcely used. We’re both too scared to be the chump who calls first. Too scared to be vulnerable, because we know the other is quick witted and has the potential to cut us down.

Strangely, my hands shake the way they did when I snuck through her bedroom window. I just needed a minute with her, time to touch the ground again, time to remember we’re alive and okay, even if the girl Abel hurt no longer was. Pulling in a deep breath and holding it, I pray she’s home in bed and not out partying, then I hit dial and scrunch my eyes closed while I wait.

The phone rings once, twice, three times. I start to think she won’t answer – either because she’s asleep, or because she’s staring at her caller ID and thinkingnot a fucking chance– but then the line clicks and music blasts my eardrums. “Hello? Hel– Hello?” She has to shout over the loud music in the background. “Cruz? Hey cutie! Whatcha up to?”

Shaking my head, I pull the cell from my ear and hang up. I don’t want to talk to her while she’s out. I especially don’t want to talk to her when she’s giggly and calling me cute.

Our first time together was when she was giggly like this, so now the images of my hands on her thighs are replaced with hands of men in the club. Now I think of her taking one of them home, and rage bubbles in my chest until I slam my cell onto my desk and walk away with my hands on my head.

I push through the kitchen door, straight through to the back, then circle around, because I have direct orders not to go anywhere. I need to be by the radios, because I have two teams on the firing line tonight, and I can’t let either of them down just because a girl wants to play games. With my hands on my head and my heart slamming in my chest, I pass my desk, make sure everything is silent, then I make another lap through the station, kitchen, dock, and back around.

“You gotta move the fuck on, Cruz.” I clench my teeth closed before I let out a string of mean shit I’ll feel bad about tomorrow.She’s gone, and it’s not like she didn’t warn you. Not yours, and not for you. She’s wild and free, and you’re too fucking rooted in place to catch her.

Turning for a third lap through the station, I stop again when the radio cackles alive. “Subject is here. Bishop and Flynn.” Alex’s voice is soft, barely audible, but I hear him. I understand what he’s saying, so I push Andi from my mind and drop down into my desk chair. I have a job to do, and my boss has my friend and colleague’s head in the sights of his weapon.

Literally.

Not ideal.

I don’t pick the radio up to ask what Kane’s doing. Alex would tear me a new asshole if I did that, but thankfully Oz says what I’m dying to know. “Suspects moving north toward a picnic bench. Both men are strapped up enough to go to war. Hayes isn’t here.”

“I count three… four… maybe five pistols each,” Alex murmurs with a hint of what may be disgust. “Ankle, thigh, hip, back…” He pauses. “Maybe a holster beneath Flynn’s coat. They’re hot, and they’re able. Watch your back, Franks.”

“I got it,” Oz murmurs. “I got you in my sights, X. I’m watching for us both.”

“Suspect’s reaching into his coat pocket,” Alex’s murmur holds a tinge of excitement. “Make it a gun, motherfucker. Then while you’re at it, shoot Bishop.”

The gun is enough to bring them in, but taking Bishop out is a tidy bonus Alex is hoping for. It makes me sick knowing Kane isn’t who X thinks he is. That Alex can’t know Flynn is his only enemy out there. Kane would take anyone out that threatened Alex, but Alex wouldn’t return the favor. He wouldn’t know he was supposed to.

“An envelope?” Oz questions. “Flynn’s handing an envelope to Bishop. I think it’s… maybe pictures…?”

“Confirmed. Pictures.” Alex’s breath moves through the radio as though he holds it against his lips. “Whatever it is, Bishop’s not fucking happy about it.”

“There are only two of ‘em,” Oz whispers. “Hayes isn’t here, and we know his army is massive. Stay alert, X. I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Yeah,” Alex replies quietly. “We’re not the only ones hiding right now. Give us some radio silence for now. Stay vigilant.”

My bouncing knee taps the underside of my desk. My gum becomes tasteless, and my heart – the heart that beat for Andi ten minutes ago – now slams in my chest and waits for the outcome of this meeting.

“Oh shit! Shots fired! Shots fired!”

I spring up from my seat as though the shots are coming from inside my station. The radios that were silent only a moment ago now roar with life. “Hands up!” I hear the deep thump of boots against hard packed dirt. “Put your hands up, Bishop!”

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