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“Yeah.” The thought of what happened to Janet still makes my stomach turn. She’s one of the major reasons I was happy to leave Los Angeles far behind me. “She was a good kid but got involved with a guy named Darryl Brown, the head of the Shoreline Crips. He was an unscrupulous son of a bitch, didn’t care that he or his guys were dealing to kids. He got Janet hooked on crack and she couldn’t get out. She was the one that approached me, she wanted to help get Darryl sent away. She was young, I shouldn’t have let her become an informant for me, but I’d been after Brown for months and didn’t see any other way. She fed me a ton of info on not only her boyfriend but the entire supply line for Shoreline. I don’t know exactly what happened, she must have slipped up somehow becausethey murdered her and dropped her body on the steps of my precinct.”
The memory of her lifeless eyes and her throat cut from ear to ear still haunt me. If I had known it was going to end that way for her, I never would have taken her help but she reminded me of my sister and I wanted to not only get her out, but put the man behind bars that got her addicted to crack and used her body as a bargaining chip. I don’t know, maybe I was no better than him, using her the way I did for information.
“And you don’t think this has anything to do with her?”
I just shake my head, brining myself out of the painful memories. “There’s no reason for Shoreline to come after me. They killed my informant and left her in public for me to find. As far as they’re concerned it’s over. Plus, when I spoke to her about becoming a CI, I made sure she didn’t have any family. It’s part of my intake process. There’s nobody who would be coming after me for anything that had to do with her.”
Rafe continues pacing the shitty linoleum floor, his fingers tapping against his side. The guy is almost as on edge as I am. I also know he’s like me in that he doesn’t like to lose. They couldn’t have pared me with a better partner.
“And the last thing you can think of was that shipment for the Valley Boys?”
“Yeah, I got a tip about a shipment they would be receiving from a cartel down south. We managed to intercept the truck that was carrying it and confiscated a shit ton of cocaine, meth, fentanyl, and a stash of weapons. But there were a ton of cops involved in that bust, I don’t know why anyone would focus in on just me. And again, the pictures, harassment, and threats shit really isn’t the gang’s MO. They’re more likely to walk up to me on a crowded street and shoot me in the back of the head than they are to stalk and threaten my family. I’m telling you, none of these fit.” I slam my fist down on my desk and immediatelyregret it when I see a couple of guys look over at us from across the bullpen. I shoot them an apologetic smile before turning back to my partner.
“We’re in the same exact place we were a week ago. Hell, a month ago. I’ve got to catch this guy, Rafe.”
“I know man. We’ll find him.” He claps my shoulder with his oversized hand and finally settles into the chair at his desk that’s facing mine. “We’re going to have to go back further than the past six months. Let’s go back a full year.”
A frustrated sigh escapes my lips. I want to scream at him that this shit is useless but there’s no point in taking my frustration out on him. He’s doing everything he can to help. He just doesn’t understand how hard this week has been for me.
I wasn’t joking when I said Bianca was my addiction. A week without her and I’m completely on edge. It feels like I’m going through withdrawals. I can’t sleep, I’ve lost my appetite, every thought I have that’s not focused on finding this psycho is consumed by her.
It’s not fucking helping that I see her leave her house every goddamn night, dressed to the nines. I know she’s going out with her friends, I’m sure it’s in an effort to forget all about me and it’s my own fucking fault. But what if she actually does meet someone?
The first night she went out after I called things off I sat and waited by the window until she rolled back in well after midnight. The problem was that she wasn’t alone. Some guy pulled up in a too big truck, hopped out, and helped her inside. My girl could barely fucking walk in a straight line. I wanted to rush out my door and beat his face in for daring to touch her, even if it looked like all he was doing was helping her get inside but that wasn’t my right anymore. I had seen to that.
I saw her face when I was breaking up with her. All that work I had done to get her walls to fall had been swept away ina moment. As I spoke, I could see her face shuttering, her walls towering back up to the sky before my eyes. But I know it will all be worth it when we catch this guy and she is safe. God, I hope it’s worth it.
The mystery guy was inside the house with her for about three minutes before I couldn’t stand it any longer and I jumped out of my chair and headed to the front door. Luckily, it was then that he exited the house, locking the door behind him before jumping back into his huge truck—that frankly had to be compensating for something—and driving away. The entire situation left a foul taste in my mouth but there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
That prompted my routine for the rest of the week. I would go to work during the day then head over to Gloria’s afterward to spend some time with Oliver. God, I missed him. With both him and Bianca currently being kept at a distance, my life felt hallow and lonely. How did I live like this before and never even realize how sad my existence had truly become?
After dinner with the two of them I headed home, sorted through my personal files, and waited, barely concealed behind my curtains. I watched Bianca go out every night this week. I always knew she had been a bit of a party girl before me, but this seemed a little excessive. I tried to stay away from that window. To stop myself from inflicting my own personal torture that was watching her get dressed up and head out to tease and flirt with other men, but what choice did I really give her? No, I had set her free and she was doing what any other single girl would do in her position. I couldn’t expect her to sit at home and pine for me after I’d broken her heart in the only way I knew how. But if I had seen her bring another man home, all the reasoning in the world wouldn’t have stopped me from beating him to a bloody fucking pulp. It was good for all our sakes when she showed up home, alone every night. Not that I sat there watching for her.
I catch the time on my watch and say goodbye to Rafe so I can make sure to catch dinner with Oliver. Rafe’s going to stay here and speak to the lab about anything they might have been able to pull from the security footage I sent them. I can’t thank him enough for how much time and effort he’s been putting into this. With him working alongside me at least I get a few short hours with my kid every night even if it doesn’t feel like enough. I keep telling him he doesn’t have to stay and do this but he brushes me off, reminding me he’s single with no kids and it’s better than sitting at home alone. I’d argue with him but I know exactly what he means.
All through dinner I dodge questions from Gloria about when my schedule is going to ease up. I know it’s not because she doesn’t want Oliver with her. In fact, she seems thrilled to have him around. It’s more like she’s worried about me working too hard. I still haven’t told either of them why I really have Oliver here but I feel much better with him staying with her. She owns a house in a fancy gated community that’s filled to the brim with security personal. I couldn’t have found a better place for him to stay. I’ve also spoken to the head of security for the community. It turns out he’s an ex-cop which makes me feel better. I didn’t tell him all the details, but I gave him enough information that he knows he needs to keep an extra eye on them and any suspicious characters that may be hanging around.
By the time I get home, I’m mentally and physically exhausted. Between wracking my brain to find this guy and staying up to watch Bianca leave and come back home every night, it’s all starting to take a toll on me. I make it to my porch when I see Bianca’s car pulling to a stop at the curb in front of my house. I’m confused for a second on why she would be parking on the street but then I look over and see Violet’s car in the driveway. She must be home from the hospital.
I know I should head inside and pretend like I didn’t see her, but I’m rooted in the spot. No matter how much I tell my feet to turn the fuck around and go, they remain firmly planted on the porch, pointed in her direction.
It’s obvious she hasn’t spotted me when she turns and reaches into her back seat to pull out a few canvases she was transporting. She stacks them in her arms, closes the car door with a bump of her hip, and starts heading towards her own home.
This is the closest I’ve been to her in a week and before I give my body any sort of conscious command I’m calling out, “Bianca,” and striding across the grass.
Her head whips up, startled, and she looks around a moment before she spots me striding towards her. The second she sees me her eyes narrow disapprovingly. I’m not going to lie, it hurts like a motherfucker.
“I swear to God, Carson, if you say something about me being parked too close to your driveway, I will beat you to death with one of these canvases.”
Her sass is such a surprise that it forces a bubble of laughter out from between my lips. That laugh quickly dies when her face conveys that her threat is dead serious. There’s no warmth in her eyes, not even that challenging fire I love so much. I need to find this guy quick because judging by her reaction to me, I might not be able to get her back.
She turns away from me to go when a canvas drops out of her hand. She leans forward and tries to scoop it up without dropping the others but I rush forward and save it from the ground before she loses any of the others that are barely held in her arms. I’m handing it back to her when I notice the painting is of me. Well, of Oliver and I together. It’s not photorealism but it’s quite obvious it’s us. The colors are brights, warm, and vibrant. Frankly, it takes my breath away.
“This is amazing, Bianca. You’ve never showed me one of your paintings before. I don’t know much about art but it’s obvious to even me that you have a true talent.” I place the painting back on top of the stack of others and I suddenly want to go through them all. How many of them are us and our family? Is that what she’s been painting? Why she would never show me what she made? All of my warm thoughts turn to ash when her cold, lifeless voice reaches my ears.
“Yeah, well I did these before. Now they belong in the garbage with all my other work that’s just not good enough.”
I physically flinch at the tone of her voice. She doesn’t sound sad or even angry. She sounds disgusted with me. Like I’m nothing to her. Like I never was and never will be again. It scares the shit out of me. I want to shake her and scream at her that I’m doing this to protect her, but I know I can’t do that yet. Hell, I probably shouldn’t even be talking to her right now just in case someone’s watching, but I can’t seem to help myself.
