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“If you actually fucking talked to me then maybe I would understand. Jesus, Charlie, what the hell is going on here?”
I turn around and narrow my eyes at her as she stands in the doorway.
“You want a relationship? Someone to take you on romantic walks and buy you fucking flowers? That ain’t me.” I bang my fist on my chest. “You wanna fuck? That’s me, and that’s all you’ll be getting, if you don’t like it, there’s the door.” I tilt my head to the door and watch as her hands clench into fists around the sheet before she storms back into the bedroom.
I lean against the kitchen counter, wincing at the bangs coming out of the other room. I have no doubt that she’s angry, she’s a fiery one, something I’m not used to and sometimes I don’t know how to react to her.
She comes back into the kitchen, placing something down gently on the counter. “She’s gone, Charlie.” And with that she walks out of my house, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
My eyes move to the picture she placed down and guilt overtakes me.
I shouldn’t be doing this with Kitty.
A knock on my office door brings me back to the here and now. “One sec.”
I lift up off the chair, walking over to the sofa along the back wall in my office and gently setting Kitty down before covering her with one of my jackets.
So much has happened since that day, so much time has passed and things are different now.
“Sarge?” Kurt’s voice comes through the door and I pull it open.
“Yeah?”
“Call just came in.”
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I tell him, shutting the door and looking back at Kitty.
Things from here on out are changing, I’m ready to be with her, all of her, but if I’m honest, I’m scared. I’m scared of losing her, I’m scared of getting in too deep, but most of all I’m scared to love her. Letting myself go there again is a big deal and I need to know that I’m ready because I’m either all in or all out, and deciding which one I am doesn’t come easy.
I shake my head and pull the door open, raising a brow at Kurt, silently asking him to fill me in.
“Car found torched out by Wayward.”
“Let’s go,” I tell him, grabbing my jacket and heading out of the precinct.
By the time we get there, Sanchez and Leroy are already there, and Jane and Derrick are on their way.
“Looks like the guy was already dead before the fire started,” Lieutenant Durk tells me as he pulls his fire helmet off his head, wiping his forehead with his arm and huffing out a breath. “There’s no evidence that he tried to escape, and if he was alive, he would have fought like hell to get out of there.”
“Thanks,” I say, stepping toward the torched car. All that’s left of the body are bones and burnt skin. The smell almost makes me gag but I hold it in, needing to assess the crime scene.
“What are forensics saying?” I ask Leroy as he walks over to me.
“Four gunshot wounds found so far, one between the eyes that for sure was the kill shot.”
I widen my stance, looking out at the scene. A fire truck packed with firefighters is getting ready to leave, tape cornering off the car and detectives along with uniformed officers gathering any evidence around the scene.
“We need to know who this is, get forensics to get it back to the lab asap.”
I turn and walk away, heading back to my car. Things like this are happening more and more lately and I can feel something swirling in the air. My gut tells me something big is about to happen, and my gut is never wrong.
“Sarge?” Jane calls as I go to get into my car. “Shooting has just been reported two blocks east.”
I jump in my car and speed out of there, Jane and Derrick on my tail. My foot goes to the floor on the gas pedal as I speed a couple blocks over, running stop signs to get there faster. My foot slams onto the brake pedal as I spot a body in the middle of the road and I manage to come to a halt a few feet away from her. I push my door open, jumping out and running to the person.
Her face comes into view and for a second I lose my breath, she can’t be more than sixteen.
My eyes scan her and zone in on the blood flowing out of her abdomen. My instincts kick in and I go down to my knees, pressing my hands against the wound, trying to stem the bleeding.
