Page 43 of The Brothers Next Door

As soon as I entered the apartment, I dropped my handbag by the door and I noticed his NYPD jacket handing up on the coat rack and his boots on the floor next to it, so he was home from work.

“Darrin,” I called out, walking into the apartment, but having no luck in finding him in either the kitchen or the living room. The bathroom also turned up empty, but I did eventually find him in his bedroom. He was asleep on his bed, with a box of what appeared to be photos next to him. His television was playing what appeared to be a home movie. The woman in the video was a stunning, leggy Latina woman with breasts that made mine look like a preteen girl’s.

On the night side table were several empty beer cans and a bottle of rum which was close to halfway gone. Grabbing the remote control, I flicked off the television and was about to turn and leave when I heard him mutter something.

Not sure what he’d said, I came closer and took a seat on the bed next to him. “Darrin?” I said it quiet enough as to not to disturb him if he was in a deep sleep, but to let him know I was there if he was on that border between sleep and wakefulness.

“Gabriella?” he muttered, his blue eyes slowly opening.

Gabriella? Who was Gabriella? Had someone else been here?

I looked around, but there were no signs of anyone else. Just the woman who was in the movie and the woman in many of the photos contained in the box.

Leaning forward, I gently rubbed his upper arm, replying, “No. It’s Layla.”

“Layla?” He stared at me, confused, as if he had no clue who I was for a moment. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t uncomfortable. I’d interrupted something that he was going through that was deep and personal. It may have even been the very thing he was always so closed up about, the woman he had referred to as being the love of his life.

“Yes. Layla. Your door was unlocked…”

“Layla.” He gave me a tight smile, but the smile didn’t go all the way to his eyes. He blinked a couple more times, rubbing his eyes with his fists. When he lowered his hands, there was clarity and recognition in his gaze. He looked around as he pulled himself up into a seated position and I could see the discomfort creep up in him. “I’m sorry for the condition…”

“What’s going on?” I took his hands in mine and waited, hoping and praying that he’d give me a straight answer. “Please. I want to be here for you.”

Heaving a loud sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, grabbed the box of pictures, and pulled one out. It was of him and the dark-haired girl from the video. They were both in NYPD uniforms, complete with mirrored sunglasses, their arms around each other. They looked happy together, very happy. So happy that I felt a pang of jealousy.

“This is Gabriella Romeriz. She was my partner, but she was more than just my partner…”

“Oh…” That’s the best I could come up with.

“She was also my fiancé.”

“She’s beautiful.”

He smiled. “Yes. She was. From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she was the one.”

As hard as this tale was for me to hear, since I’d been hoping for some time that he felt that way about me, I still wanted—no, needed—to hear it. “So, what happened?”

“We were going to move to California, that’s where her family lives. And we had planned to get married once we got there. She’d bought her wedding dress, the plans were already in motion. It was as good as done. We were on our last shift as NYPD officers.”

“So she was a cop as well?” I’d seen the photo, but was just asking to verify.

“She was my partner both at home and while on duty,” he answered. “We were on our last shift and there was a call, a robbery of a liquor store. We were the first to arrive and we didn’t wait for backup, we went in.”

I was starting to see where this was going and I could feel the tears well up in my eyes as I imagined the picture that Darrin was beginning to paint for me. Tears were also forming in his eyes and my heart went out to him. I longed to give him a hug, but refrained. He had a story that needed to be told.

“She was so fearless to the point of it being a fault. She ran in, despite my protests to hold back and assess the situation, so I went after her. There were three men, all in masks, but the tattoos on their hands told us they were members of the Black Skulls.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah. They’d seen the car as we pulled up and were waiting for us. As soon as she entered the store some of them opened fire on her, three shots. She died almost instantly. As I went to her side, they escaped. A second police car showed up as they began to run. Officers took chase, but the three were too fast. They got away with killing one of the NYPD’s finest officers and the money.”

“Were they ever caught?”

To my surprise, Darrin nodded. “They were—today. The man who killed Gabriella finally got what he deserved, and despite trying for two years to nail that motherfucker myself, he got offed by one of his gang buddies.” He huffed. “I guess maybe that’s just justice at work for me, but dammit, I wanted to be the last person that bastard saw before he was taken away to whatever hell he’s destined for.”

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