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I couldn’t think of her, not like that, not now. I had to fight back my eagerness, just as I did around her time and time again. With her I’d scowl so hard, suppressing how desperate I was for her affection, not wanting to look so utterly helpless.
“Hola.” The lambent expression of a bald and broad-shouldered man made his way through a clanking steel door. That wasn’t a greeting, that was a sardonic hello from Sergeant Dennis Fields, who undoubtedly didn’t speak Spanish. “Not surprised to see you again, O-migo.”
“Mr. Fields, I’m glad you could join me,” I grinned, making him feel at home.
“It was only a matter of time; I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.” He carried a blue and white cup of coffee, its Greek letters begging to be read out loud.
“We are happy to serve you?” I recited its written sentiment, mocking Fields’s enthusiasm. “Is that what the New York Police have been doing recently?”
“Not well enough,” he took a seat, passing me the coffee. “Especially with people like you out there.”
“It’s not your fault. I just have better lawyers than you have officers.” I provoked, remembering from previous interactions how easy he was to antagonize. I had already talked to him in this room before. The night after the party at The Pierre, he locked me up to this very table, but unfortunately, unlike that night, today I was absent of legal assistance.
“And where is that pretty lawyer of yours?”
“She landed an hour ago…” I took a moment to look up at the pale white clock on the concrete wall, “which gives you maybe thirty more minutes until I’m gone.” When I called for Lina, my lead attorney, her secretary told me she had already left LAX late last night. She’d been out in California, handling another troubling task.
“Does she fly a broom?” Sergeant Fields laughed at his own joke.
I didn’t reply, opting to study him with the same calculated stare I gave anyone who entered my sight. I knew immediately that poor humor was a way to deflect his fragile, little ego.
A bead of sweat dripped along his forehead as he patted the sides of his unorganized papers. I tried not to gloat. Fields wasn’t a man, just an intimidated boy. I knew so much just by the details he’d thought I’d miss.
At first, his lateness was something I took as a spiteful tactic to waste my time, but now I knew it wasn’t. Sergeant Fields had missed a button along his salmon-colored shirt, leaving a gaping hole that revealed his pink, sweaty belly. He must have been rushed and skipped it by accident, his eagerness to appear in this room further evident by the dark splotch of coffee that fell beside his tie. He had probably sipped it before it was cool, burnt his tongue, and spit it back into the cup, the very cup he pushed my way now.
His boorish chuckle puttered out as he realized how closely I paid attention to him. I couldn’t even bring myself to smile at his little fucking joke, searing my eyes so deep into his, daring him to blink. The look we exchanged, though brief, was rewarding as his lip began to twitch.
“You smoke still?” He had the audacity to pull out my own pack of cigarettes, placing them out of reach.
“Only when I’m stressed,” I feigned interest.
The truth was, I did want a smoke, but I’d been trying to stop despite my urges. I considered it a practice of self-control, something I lacked around Gemma. Though she didn’t mind the smell of my smoke, I knew it bothered her, and I especially knew that the flick of a lighter sent her into a troubled stare. It was enough to make me quit the habit all together, though, without their aid, I wasn’t sure how else to quench my needy hands.
Shit.
I was thinking of her again, wishing my thumb could brush her plump, bottom lip, and for a moment my face dropped.
“You’re scared of what I got for you, aren’t ya?” Sergeant Fields noticed, sifting the papers like a deck of cards. He licked his finger and removed a sheet out from the pile. “One violation of trespassing, one count of concealment of a deadly weapon…”
“Deadly weapon?” I raised a brow.
“A switchblade…”
“Hardly…”
“It’s illegal.”
“By that standard, are toothpicks illegal as well?”
“Don’t be a smart ass.” He continued to flip the pages, searching for what he could. So far he only caught me on the roof of an abandoned building with a switchblade in my pocket. He grinned before letting out a long whistle. “This one’s my favorite,” he muttered, clicking a pen in his hand. “One count of reckless endangerment… oh that’s a big one, buddy, but I’m sure it’s familiar.”
“No one was in danger.”
He chuckled, “Sure. I’ve heard that before.”
Having Gemma on the roof was far from dangerous. True danger? I’d never allow it. Keeping her close to the edge was not the same as risking her falling. I was there, I could stop it; and for once I felt like I had control, like I could prevent the bad things from happening, things like in the past.Thatmoment with her gave me purpose…thatgave me life.
Could she tell that my kiss was more? Not just an affirmation of all the things I ever felt, but a desperate thank you?
