Page 239 of The Consequences of Love and Vengeance

“Houston was going to cut a deal,” Tom says, then clears his throat. “Testimony on everything he knew and heard, how long he’d been working for Diaz through Brandon Marino, every case he doctored reports on, and any false statements he made under oath for a reduced sentence. He was looking at a max of five years because I pulled every string I could think of to not only get something substantial to link Acerbi and Diaz but also because I didn’t want a man I had mentored to sit wasting his life in a cell.” Tom looks at me, about to say something when his cell phone chimes from my hands.

Looking down, I see a message from another phone number that isn’t saved in his contacts.

Unknown Caller

You’ll always be two steps behind, Sbirro.

“Sbirro?” I mutter to myself, not understanding the word as I hand his phone back over.

“It basically means cop in Italian,” Tom tells me, his jaw locking and anger taking over the sadness in his eyes.

“So, it’s from Vincent. Surely, he’s not stupid enough to send you a message giving him away is he?” I ask.

“He’s smart. Do not ever underestimate someone like that, Detective.” His eyes blink down, staring at the message. “That’s not even circumstantial evidence. I can already tell you without even checking that he used a burner phone that cannot be traced. Anyone could have googled Italian terms and could have sent that to throw me off. However...” He swallows. “I’m the only person that knows he called me that to my face once.”

“When?” I find myself asking.

“The day Anna was killed.” It’s now that I can tell he really did love Drago’s mother. And I can understand his vendetta toward D’s father. If someone stole the man I loved from me, I don’t think I’d stop at anything to bring him to justice.

* * *

Seeinga former colleague’s body mutilated affected me in a way I wasn’t expecting. I didn’t like Houston, not even a little bit. He was a disgusting excuse for a man. The sickening reminder of his hands on me makes me want to vomit more so than the gruesome scene I just left.

He deserved to pay for his crimes, but that wasn’t it. I don’t know of a person, except for maybe Vincent himself, that would warrant what was done to Lance Houston.

Every time I’ve ever left a crime scene, I’ve always felt a hundred times dirtier than when I arrived. It doesn’t matter if it was a murder or a drug bust, my skin feels grimy, filthy, and in need of a hot shower.

My partner’s apartment was closer than mine on the drive back to the precinct, so I pulled into the small complex parking lot, coming to a stop a few rows down from her building. I still have a spare key from when she went out of town last year to visit her parents up in Portland. She has a fat house cat that I had to feed while she was on vacation.

I shot her a text ten minutes ago, letting her know I was going to take a quick shower and steal an outfit. She hasn’t replied, but I know her well enough to know she won’t give two shits if I just go in. There aren’t many people she’d trust like that, not even her own sister, but we wouldn’t be partners if we couldn’t wholeheartedly trust each other.

Shoving the key into the lock, I turn it and push open her door, and walk inside. The key is still in the lock when I freeze in the entryway of her one-bedroom apartment.

Moans and grunts assault my ears as my eyes lock on my partner’s body bent over a counter-height kitchen chair with Eric fucking her from behind. They are both lost in the pleasure and haven’t noticed me yet. I should really make a noise, but the surprise hasn’t worn off.

My eyes drop like I’m a voyeur wanting to get off on watching the act in front of me. I’m not, but my eyes pull down on their own accord. His big dark dick is going in and out at such a high rate of speed that I can’t help but to focus in on it to make sure I’m seeing the massive size of that monster.

Jeez, how is he not hurting her? Connie isn’t large by any means. She’s two inches taller than my five-foot-four-inch height, but we’re both slender and in shape too, so I guess that probably helps in her case, because he’s putting her body through the wringer. Doesn’t look like she’s complaining though.

Eric grunts and his ass clenches tight. Connie goes silent and then a scream follows suit, coming out of her mouth so loud I remember the door is wide open. I quickly shut it, the slam making a bang against the doorframe.

She raises off the chair, standing in front of Eric, covering his large body.

“So, we’re just using people’s emergency key now?” Connie questions, an irritated growl across her makeup-free face.Did she even go to work today?

“If I hadn’t already seen the grossest shit I’ve ever seen today, this might’ve done it.” It wasn’t gross, not even a little bit, but I’m not about to admit that little tidbit.

“Bitch, there isn’t anything gross about what you just saw.” She giggles, then a snort comes out of her mouth. “That was hot. Admit it.” She crosses her arms, smashing her small boobs together, smirking.

“When did you two become...” I motion in circles, pointing at the two of them. To my knowledge, they’d only had a few encounters previous to this one, and even Connie isn’t that much of a hoe to screw a man without at least holding a conversation with him. She’s more talk than not.

Eric yanks up his boxers and black tactical cargo pants, covering his junk, then he buttons and zips them. For the first time ever, he looks a bit embarrassed. His eyes are downcast and he’s not looking at me.

He dips, snatching his T-shirt off the ground and pulls it over his head. Darting his eyes from Connie and then over my head and back to Connie again, he says, “I’m going to split. Catch you later?”

“Sure, handsome.” She smiles, still naked as a jaybird, her eyes never leaving mine as he steps around me, leaving without even acknowledging my presence.

Oh, if he thinks he’s living this down, he’s got another thing coming.I laugh on the inside.

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