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Murder after murder after murder. Mylifeis murder. I’ve solved too many damn cases and they never go away for me. It makes me and Devan a good team because we share the same unrelenting stubbornness that makes each case personal. In a way that so few people do these days.
But no lighter on the last one.
Much to my eternal disappointment, no matter how Devan and I search, there is never a lighter on our vics.
I cock the gun again and let the bullet drop before flicking the safety back on and dropping it to my side. Head between my legs, I blow out a breath and suck in a deeper one, holding it until my lungs burn and seize and my head spins toward the ceiling.
One hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle, I reach with the other toward the slight weight buried in my pocket. I know every groove of the fucking thing. It rests in my palm as if it belongs there, as much as I hate it.
I flick the lighter and watch the flame erupt before letting go and starting all over again. The light of the flame materializes as a phoenix burning, succumbing to the heat rather than rising out of the ashes. Twin swords form an X behind the phoenix and the fire is stylized, blue, more like ice than flame. The pommels of the swords are ivory roses.
My throat goes raw. I’d screamed so loud that night.I counted to 100. I counted to 100. I counted to 100!
It’s not life, the one I’m living now. Nothing besides a bland existence of rinse and repeat and it doesn’t seem to matter how many people I help. I look for the next one, the next case to close, but it’s never enough. All those lives changed and perpetrators brought to justice…when is it going to be enough for me? When will I ever find the satisfaction?
I bring the flame to my hand like maybe the heat will burn away the memory of blood everywhere that night.
The cell phone bleats from a foot way, vibrating against the floor as it rings. I let it go to voicemail. There isn’t anyone I want to talk to right now. Devan knows to text me two times in quick succession if he really needs something once I clock out for the day.
We joined the force around the same time and although we'd each gone to separate districts for our first beat, our track records made our current captain in this district consider the pairing.
Neither one of us looked back.
The slender golden-skinned woman and the slender dark-skinned man. We’re a sight with the height difference, and we’ve both learned to cultivate our image when we approach people. Or for intimidation.
The cell rings again, and again.
“What?” I finally answer, my breathing heavy; I’ve gotten too deep into the memories. It’s the damn murder at a convenience store tonight. It looked too similar. Except it missed the lighter, the one my partner knows I have to immediately scour for like an addiction.
“Devan said you might need me, that you’re going to a dark place, so here I am, baby girl. I’m here for you to use! Or just to amuse you.”
“I’m not going dark,” I assure her. Then I glance at the bottle of whiskey. “I’m skirting the line, but I’m fine. I promise.” I smile even though she can’t see me. “It is good to hear your voice, though.” Slowly I uncurl my legs and stretch them out in front of me to work out the kinks.
Taney chuckles and the sound is designed, perfectly cultivated, to cause anyone who hears her to shiver deliciously. “I know you, Layla. I’ve been your friend for how many years now?”
“Five,” I answer automatically. “Longer than anyone else. You are my rock, Taney.”
Except for Devan.
“Exactly. Bullshit a bullshitter one more time and see what happens,” she warns lightheartedly.
“I appreciate your concern but—”
“That’s it. Me. Your friend, who is concerned about you. Who loves you unconditionally. And I’m sure it’s not a stretch to say you’re probably holed up by yourself in your apartment when it's better for you to be around people.” Her voice takes on a wheedling quality. “You know I’m right. You need people!”
“Ugh, people.” I groan dramatically.
“Normally I might let you off the hook but the club is hopping tonight and the energy is good. I think it would doyougood to come,” Taney finishes.
I think about it, monitoring myself for any hesitation and only coming up against my razor-sharp thoughts. “I’m not in a good mood for people-ing, Tane. I’d only bring the vibe down. I’m not fit for company by a long shot.”
“Please?” She doesn’t exactly plead but she’s not going to make it easy for me to back out, either. Not when she’s made up her mind.
She’s the type of hard personality I appreciate because she refuses to flake out. Taney sticks to her guns, maybe even to her detriment at times.
“I feel you resisting and it’s giving me a headache,” Taney continues. “And clearly I haven’t been sending you Subs you like, so the best thing to do would be to come and pick one out for yourself.”
“I hate it when you bring logic into my dominant heart.”
