Bleed Blue 69: Twenty-Five Authors…One Sexy Police Station Read online

  The sounds of my noisy family drifted towards me, reminding me that we weren’t alone. I wanted some time with Chad before they intruded, so I stepped onto the porch with him and closed the door behind me. Tugging his hand, I led him over to the dark walnut, rollback swing my dad had put up for my mom a couple decades ago.

  “I can’t believe the old swing is still here,” he said, plopping down next to me. “It looks exactly the same.”

  “My dad will tell you it’s because he’s such an amazing handyman, but my mom always says it’s because of the Amish craftsmanship of the swing she picked out.”

  “They really haven’t changed a bit, have they?”

  “Nope.” I toed the porch floor to put the swing in motion. “But you sure did. What have you been up to all these years?”

  “Well, I managed to make it through the rest of middle school and all of high school without your help.” I laughed, remembering how much he used to complain when I insisted we get our homework done before we played. “But college wasn’t for me, so I joined the Army after graduation. Did my six years, but I decided not to reenlist. I spent about three months in Atlanta with my parents, trying to figure out what to do next, when I realized how much I missed Brooklyn. So I moved back, put my time spent as an MP to good use and became a cop.”

  “Wow,” I breathed out. “You’ve done a heck of a lot more with your life than I’ve managed.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Between school and an internship of sorts, I’ve only been in the real world for a couple years.”

  “Hey, now,” he protested. “Don’t minimize your accomplishments. You earned a degree, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “In what?”

  “I got my Bachelors of Fine Arts in Game Design from NYU.”

  “Shit, Charlie,” he rasped. “Are you telling me you design video games for a living?”

  I felt my face heating up since Chad was the reason I’d become a gamer in the first place. “Yup, I was super lucky to get accepted into the major. It’s amazing. And the school’s Game Center has a three-month program that I did after graduation where they gave me the resources and guidance I needed to see if a game I designed while I was in school could find commercial success.”

  “And did it?”

  “Yeah,” I admitted shyly. “I guess it did.”

  “What’s it called? Would I have heard of it?”

  “No wonder you became a cop,” I laughed. “You’re very good at interrogating people and getting them to talk.”

  “Damn straight, I’m good,” he rumbled. “C’mon, Charlie. Fess up. Tell me about your game. Don’t make me go all bad cop on you.”

  “It’s only an app. For now at least. I’ve been talking Sony about possibly doing a version for Xbox One.”

  “The name, Charlie.”

  “Cop Car Clash,” I whispered, closing my eyes and bracing myself for his reaction since he was on the force.

  He didn’t say a word, but I felt him shift on the swing’s bench. My eyes popped back open when he placed a warm, hard object in my hands. His phone. Peering at the screen, I realized he’d pulled it out of his pocket to show me that he had my game installed on it. Looking more closely, I noticed his high score listed in the upper left corner.

  “I guess you’ve heard of it then,” I giggled.

  “All the guys at the sixty-ninth have more than heard of it. You’re going to have to teach me all the tricks to the game so I can score high enough that none of the other guys can ever beat me.”

  “I think that could be arranged,” I agreed, but then I couldn’t help but tease him. “So… the sixty-ninth?”

  “My precinct,” he sighed. “And don’t even because I’ve heard it all before.”

  I batted my eyes innocently at him. “Who? Me? I would never.”

  “So damn cute.” He leaned forward, his lips gently brushing against mine. His tongue licked the seam of my mouth, asking for entry. My lips parted, letting him in. As our tongues tangled, my brain short-circuited and I trembled in his arms. After all these years, Chad Tomlinson was kissing me.

  It was over all too quickly, as Chad pulled back slightly, nibbling on my lower lip before ending the kiss.

  “Come on a date with me,” he breathed against my lips. “Tomorrow. Ice skating.”

  “Abe Stark?” I asked, thinking of the rink where we’d played hockey together when we were younger.

  “Nah, I was thinking Prospect Park since this is a date and not a hockey clinic.”

  “It sounds perfect to me.” It really did. Then again, I couldn’t care less where we went because all that mattered to me was that I was going on my first date with Chad. But first, we had lunch with my family. It wasn’t exactly romantic, but since we kissed and were going to eat a meal together, I decided to count it as our first date and ice skating as our second.

  Chad

  My hands jittered as I waited for Charlie to meet me near the entrance to the rink at Prospect Park. I’d planned on picking her up at her parents’ house since she was staying there for a couple more days, but she had a meeting this morning and told me it’d be easier to meet up afterwards. I’d actually been looking forward to the whole traditional picking the girl up at her front door thing, but it was probably for the best because I was damn edgy.

  I’d been on enough first dates that I shouldn’t be nervous. But this was Charlie. A Charlie I’d wanted since I was thirteen and had my first wet dream. A Charlie I’d thought about when I’d served overseas. My Charlie, who I’d finally kissed last night. I might be crazy for thinking it, but I was hoping this was the last first date of my life.

  I shook my head in an attempt to clear my thoughts, knowing damn well that I was getting ahead of myself, and caught sight of her in my peripheral vision. She looked fucking incredible dressed in a pair of tight jeans and an oversized purple sweater. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and if it wasn’t for her generous curves, I almost would have thought I’d gone back in time, the sense of déjà vu was so strong.

  “It seems like old times, you and me at a rink. Doesn’t it?” she asked as she walked up.

  “That it does,” I agreed before dropping a kiss on her plump lips. “Only a damn sight better since I have kissing privileges now.”

  “Give him an inch, and he takes a mile,” she laughed, wrapping her arms around my waist for a quick hug.

  “It’s only fair since I’m giving you the same mile in return.” I stole her lips for another kiss. “Any day, any time. You want to kiss me? Go right ahead.”

  “Be careful what you offer, big guy. I might take you up on it.” We moved towards a bench to switch out of our shoes and into the hockey skates we’d both brought with us. “But first, I’m gonna kick your butt on the rink and show you how it’s done.”

  “Sure you will,” I scoffed. “We both know who the better skater has always been.”

  She tucked her bag away and headed towards the ice. “Yeah, but when’s the last time you’ve been on the ice?” she tossed over her shoulder.

  “Shit,” I mumbled to myself as I followed. It had been way too fucking long, judging by how the ice felt under my feet. “I hope it’s like riding a bike.”

  “It isn’t,” she laughed, circling around me to grab my hand. “Don’t worry, though. I’m here to help.”

  It didn’t take me long to get the hang of it again, but I didn’t let Charlie in on that little secret. Not when the feel of her hand in mine felt so damn good. Instead, we skated around the rink hand-in-hand for a couple hours, talking about nothing and everything, until we were both starving.

  “Pizza?” she panted as she dropped down onto the bench to switch back into her shoes.

  “Scalini’s?”

  “As if we’d go anywhere else!”

  Shoving my skates into my backpack, I smiled at the sight of the surprise I’d brought with me. I decided to wait until we got to the restaurant to share it wit
h her, though. She was going to have questions, and my stomach was growling I was so hungry. It would take a little while for them to bake our pie anyway.

  Scalini’s was packed, as always, when we walked in, but the hostess recognized me since I came in at least once a week with Luke. My partner was addicted to pizza almost as much as he was women.

  “Office Tomlinson,” she greeted me, her eyes sliding to Charlie and a big grin splitting her face. “It looks like you’ve upgraded dining partners today.”

  “Yeah, but do me a favor and don’t mention it to Luke. You know how he is about this place.”

  “I promise not to say a word,” she laughed as she led us to a table in the back. “Except maybe to remind him that he could do better than bringing you here all the time.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her not to expect him to bring a date to his favorite pizza place. He had a rule against it because he figured it might increase the odds of running into them again when he was here.

  “Can you tell Gino to put in a pepperoni and extra cheese for us?” I asked. “We went skating for a couple hours and worked up an appetite.”

  “Sure, I can do that. You want some cheesy garlic bread to tide you over until it comes out?”

  “Yes,” Charlie chimed in before I could answer. “And two Cokes please.”

  “You got it.” She wandered off, leaving Charlie and I staring at each other across the table.

  “You remembered my favorite pizza.”

  “Of course I did. We’ve had it about a million times,” I replied. “And you remembered what I like to drink.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink anything other than a Coke with pizza.”

  “Beer works for me now, too.”

  “Crap, I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’ll drink both the Cokes if you want to get a beer instead.”

  “I’m good,” I reassured her, laying one of my palms over her hand and trapping it beneath mine.

  “Good,” she sighed.

  While we were waiting, I bent low to retrieve the present I’d brought. I pulled the gift bag out of my backpack and plopped it on the table in front of her, enjoying the look of pleased surprise on her face.

  “You didn’t have to bring me a present.”

  “Technically, it’s not for you. It’s for you to give to your dad for Christmas.”

  She yanked the tissue paper out, and her face lit up when she was the Otters jersey inside the bag. Her expression more than made up for all the shit I took from the guys about what they called the first sign of me being pussy-whipped.

  “Since I wasn’t in time to rescue the jersey for him on Black Friday, I thought I’d make it up to you,” I explained.

  She pulled the jersey out of the bag and her jaw dropped open when she saw that it had Gavin Hayes’ name and number on the back. He was the captain of the team and a big deal to Otters fans. “Hayes is my dad’s favorite player. Thank you so much. He’s going to love it.”

  She hadn’t even seen the best part yet. I reached out and turned the jersey around so she could see the front—where Gavin Hayes had scrawled his signature in black permanent marker.

  “Holy crap! How the hell did you get this? It’s too much, I couldn’t possibly.” She tried shoving the jersey back into my hands, but I wouldn’t let her.

  “Take it,” I urged. “It was free. One of the guys at the precinct, Sean Whistler, is best friends with Hayes. I asked him if he could do me a solid and get me a signed jersey for you.”

  She beamed a smile at me, her eyes lighting up with happiness. “One thing’s for sure, if my dad didn’t already approve of us dating, this would certainly clench it for you.”

  My chest expanded at her admission that she’d talked to her parents about us, and I offered one of my own. “That’s good to know since my mom was over the fucking moon when I told her about our date.”

  I barely noticed when our drinks and cheesy garlic bread were placed on the table. I was too busy smiling in response to the shit-eating grin on Charlie’s face.

  “You talked to your mom about me?”

  “Fuck yeah, I did,” I confessed.

  “What did she say?”

  “About damn time.”

  Truer words had never been said. I'd waited a long time for this, but Charlie was well worth the wait.

  Habeas Corpus

  By Sarah M. Cradit

  Cian

  I squinted through the darkness at the name pulsing on the glowing screen. Only she would call me at this ungodly hour. Only she had the nerve.

  “Mina.” I growled the name, running a hand over my face. “It’s two in the damn morning.”

  “Cian,” she whined. I imagined her perched over a late night cup of coffee, wide awake, mind whirring. This was my ex-wife’s hour; always had been. “I wouldn’t have to call you this late if you’d answer my calls when you’re awake.”

  “There’s nothing else to say. I can’t help you.”

  I heard the pout through the phone. “You can, you just don’t want to,” Mina charged.

  I sighed. “Even if I did, I don’t have the connections you seem to think I have.”

  “You do, and you won’t help, not even for me.”

  Especially not for you. “I’m a homicide detective.”

  “Who knows people.”

  “I have no contacts on the City Council, which is who you need to be calling about this. Here’s some advice: Don’t call them at two in the morning.”

  There was silence from my ex-wife’s end, and for a moment I thought I’d mercifully lost her. “What about Katrina? She works for the mayor.”

  My chest tightened. This wound was still very fresh, and I had a suspicion Mina was intentionally twisting the knife. “Worked, past tense. She passed away last month.”

  “Oh? I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Except you already knew, because her body was donated to your lab.”

  “Was it?” Mina never had been good at deception.

  I pulled myself to a seated position. I drew in a deep breath to steady myself. “I can’t help you get the funding back, Mina. Piedmont College has been dead in the water for years. That includes the medical cadaver program, which I realize is your baby, but it’s also a lost cause. We both know this. It’s your own fault for staying with the sinking ship.”

  “But Cian—“

  “Goodnight.” I pressed the red button before she could drag me even deeper into her dramatics.

  “Was that who I think it was?”

  I jumped, knocking my glasses off the nightstand. A warm body shifted to my left, sliding under the navy sheets. I slowly turned my head and as she came into view, so did the memories of the night before.

  Kendra Connor, my partner. My best friend. She’d been by my side for over five years, nursed me through broken hearts and kept me from going off the deep end on challenging cases. There was no one in my life I counted on more. No one I trusted more.

  She was also quite possibly the love of my life, but after everything that had happened, she was also not someone I wanted to drag down into the cesspool of my unfortunate luck. I’d promised myself this wouldn’t happen, not ever, but we’d finally scored the indictment on the Devore murders, one of our longest cases to date, and it was only supposed to be one drink…

  “Earth to Cian?””

  “Yeah,” I said. I slipped on my glasses. Kendra’s hand brushed my thigh, awakening me, though the touch was tender rather than provocative. How strange and wonderful, after all these years, to be lying next to her in a bed. “I don’t know why Mina thinks I can help her save her cadaver lab. Or why she doesn’t move to a better college. Or why she thinks I care anymore.”

  “Three years.” Kendra shook her head. Her toes stretched and tickled the sides of my calves, which was also, strangely, erotic. “When do you think she’ll finally let it go?”

  “Me or the lab?”

  “Both?”

  My phon
e screen lit up as I checked the time. Still too damn early. I shouldn’t have brought Kendra back to my place. And she shouldn’t have agreed, either. She knew my reservations, and was the one person on the force who didn’t think I’d gone mad.

  “Hungry?” I asked. Between Mina’s call and the sobering reality of my prior night actions laid before me, there would be no further rest.

  “And here I thought, after months of chasing Peterson, that we were finally going to get some sleep,” Kendra teased with a yawn. But she was out of bed before I was, shrugging an afghan over her shoulders. “Bacon, or I’m leaving.”

  You should. You should leave. Maybe we can take it back. Maybe I can reverse the danger I’ve put you in.

  I forced a smile for the one person in the world who truly knew me. “Bacon it is.”

  Kendra devoured her early morning breakfast with the enthusiasm of one who hadn’t eaten a square meal in months. I would have liked to think my prowess in bed was somehow responsible for that, but I knew the culprit was more likely the months of working a murder that had very nearly been relegated to a cold case.

  My own appetite was nonexistent.

  “Want me to make more?”

  “Are you judging me?” Kendra looked up, mouth overflowing with eggs. “You’re judging me.”

  “Me? The same guy who gives you daily crap for claiming potato chips are a valid meal replacement?”

  She pointed with her fork. “You’ve hardly touched yours.”

  I shrugged. “Not hungry.”

  Kendra raised a brow. “Wasn’t it your idea to make breakfast, Dunne?”

  I didn’t respond. In truth, I didn’t know why I’d suggested food except as an excuse to keep my mind busy.

  Her fork dropped to the plate. “Cian, talk to me.”

  My eyes were heavy when I raised them to look at her. With exhaustion. Defeat. Fear, perhaps. “You know it’s not you.”

  Kendra cocked her head. “But it is.”

  “K, no. That’s not what I meant at all—“