Page 23 of Before We Were Us

“Are you sure about that?” I know he’s only challenging me because it took me so long to agree to have another date with him. Not that I didn’t want to of course, it was more so because I wanted it so badly. It worries me to be so into someone that it interrupts my daily thoughts. I promised myself I’d never let myself get that involved with a man again. But from the first time I met Jensen, the way he looked at me at the club, it sent chills throughout my entire body. Something shifted, it was hard to walk away. Then when he reappeared, when it was impossible at that point to avoid him, the pull became harder to ignore.

“Coffee in the morning?”

“You know where I’ll be.” Marco should greatly enjoy another visit from the detective. I heard about it for days after that last visit to his little coffee shop.

When he stands I do the same, rounding the table and starting toward the door. Suddenly he hooks my waist, pulling me back and my body collides with his.

Instantly his hand cups my face, before sliding back into my hair. The grip tightens, his lips pressed to mine and heat rushes through me from head to toe.

His touch, tracing over the seam of my lips,my legs feel weak and I am thankful he is holding me so tight. If he hadn’t been I’m more than sure I would crumble to the floor.

fifteen

. . .

Jensen

As I exit the building, I pause, dialing Connor’s number.

“I’m a minute out.” He doesn’t even say hello.

“You’ll beat me to the scene, I’m leaving Brynn’s place now.” I don’t miss the way my tone sounds angry. My life has been complicated. My job and its demands tend to weigh heavy on any relationship. Yet, I’ve somehow met a woman that understands and she too has a demanding work life. I get now more than anything how those opposite me in any relationship might have felt. It’s a constant roadblock to get time with the other person and you’re left with disappointment.

I’m feeling it heavy now.

“Awe, is someone cranky.” I can hear the humor in Connor’s voice.

“Fuck off.” I end the call to the sounds of his laughter and walk toward my car parked about ten spaces down on the curb. Hitting the button the lights flash and I yank open the door, climbing inside.

The drive to South State Street doesn’t take as long as I thought. I see the flashing lights as I round the corner and pull into the first available space.

Getting out I flash my badge and see officer Gibbs up ahead. He glances back over his shoulder and instantly I notice his demeanor shift. His shoulders square off, his jaw takes a hardened look, eyes narrow.

I haven’t gotten the details but there has been some kind of relationship between him and Brynn in the past. I’m not sure I truly want to know the details.

As I get closer he offers me a lift of his chin, but says nothing. Instead he continues to manage the crowd and observe me as I walk by.

“What do we got?” I ask Hollis, a fellow detective on the scene.

“Two bodies, over here.” He points to the male, mid-twenties; it’s roped off a few feet away from the alley. “And we have a second victim,” he motions to his left, “along the curb, partially in the vehicle, either trying to make a fast getaway or gain shelter.”

True to his word a second male, around the same age is half hanging out of a small four door sedan. The way his body is twisted, his feet still at the curb, his entire upper body inside the car, I’d have to say he was attempting to flee.

“Witnesses say they heard a shot, then saw someone running away toward the alley. Shortly after there was a second shot. I assume the second shot brought that guy down.” He points toward the alley where the man lay face down. “It’s a shot to the chest, so whomever fired the second shot, must have been waiting in the alley. There are no witnesses to who may have fired off the second round.”

“That’s Riley Anders.” I stare at the young man they’ve now removed from the car and laid onto his back just outside the car.

“Myles ran around with him in high school. He’s a little younger than my brother, a couple years maybe.” Myles is the youngest of my siblings at twenty-six. With two sisters he and I spent a lot of time hiding out to escape the dreaded games of dress up our two sisters always attempted to force upon us.

“I don’t think Myles has talked to him in years, but it’s him.” Seeing a familiar face, a lifeless one, so close to my younger brother's age sits heavy in my gut.

“Drug deal gone bad, maybe?”

I’d love to tell Connor that there is no way Riley was involved in that type of life, but I’d be lying. Myles hit a hard patch too. His senior year he’d got into some hard stuff, drinking, getting high all the time. Skipping school to party all day with people he should have stayed far away from. It all started right after our father passed. Everything fell apart.

“If I had to guess,” I responded, still staring at the kid that slept over at my house, in the same bedroom I shared with my brother. I’d lie awake listening to them talk about girls and smile in the darkness. That was long before the drugs came into play. After I found out Myles was wrapped up in that shit, I took control. I loaded him up in my dad’s old truck and with my mother on the opposite side of him, we drove him to a treatment facility and checked him in.

Hours upon hours, day after day of counseling, tears and screaming, he left ninety days later remembering the man my father thought he’d be.

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