My insides warm and my throat’s thick; I don’t say a thing. I can’t.
He adds emphatically, “I love you, Catarina. You’re my sunshine. Always have been.”
I swallow hard and respond meekly, “I love you, too.”
He sighs in relief. “Good, ‘cause I don’t know how long I would’ve been able to stand you being upset at me. Now, about Frankie…”
“She’s gone.”
“Yeah, she is.”
Then he says something that stops my heart and singes my insides.
“I need you to understand why I sent her away.”
Chapter Fourteen
My mind goes a hundred miles an hour. My breathing heavies as I clench my fists and seethe, “You- you sent her away?”
The expression on his face tells me he thought I already knew this.
I did not.
“How could you? She needs us. She needs you! And you sent her away? You’re going to be a father, Bob. Your baby needs you.”
Putting on his poker face, he adopts a distant tone. “I don’t want children. Frankie should have known better. We’re a church, not a brothel. Nuns don’t just get pregnant, Cat. People would know. We can’t risk it. We can’t risk our reputation. People trust us. They trust the church.”
I don’t buy it. “She could have gone into hiding for a while. Come back when the baby was born. We could have raised it as a family.”
“She’s aborting the pregnancy. There will be no child.”
My mouth gapes.
She wouldn’t do that. I know Frankie. She would never do that.
Or would she?
It’s then that I remember something Frankie said before she left.
“I don’t want him raised like you! He’s going to be normal!”
Standing, I utter, “I don’t know what Frankie told you, Bob, but she’s not aborting the pregnancy.” He tries to hide the look of surprise that crosses him, but I catch it. I begin walking backwards. “You’re going to be a father. Whether you like it or not.”
As I move to walk away, I call out without feeling, “Congratulations, Daddy.”
***
My chest heaves in unsteady breaths as I run from the crime scene. My heart thumps an erratic drum beat. Cold sweat covers my body.
This is fear. I’m sure of this because I’m about a second away from dirtying my panties.
As I bolt down a side street, I pant into the night air, “Someone want to tell me why the cops are on my ass?”
Red and blue lights flash. A siren wails in the distance.
My body now covered in a cold sweat, I realise this could have very well been my last job.
Clark speak into my earpiece. “Fury, you tripped the alarm.”
Impossible.
Hiding myself behind a dumpster, I hiss into nothingness, “No. I. Didn’t.”
Clark sighs, “You did. I have the monitored alarm reading up on my screen right now.”
I try to catch my breath in sulky silence.
Clark speaks softly, “Listen, it happens sometimes. Don’t sweat it. You got out. Bob’s on his way.”
Frankie’s leaving is f**king with my head. I close my eyes and try not to breathe in through my nose. This dumpster is rank. Resting my head against the ice-cold brick wall, I mentally lecture myself on how stupid I am for letting this happen.
This was a rookie mistake. And I’m embarrassed by it.
I spot lights brightening the alley and I move to stand. I don’t want to be here a second longer than I need to be, although I’m dreading the lecture I know one hundred percent I’m going to receive from Bob on the way home.
Still standing by the dumpster, I’m suddenly blinded by a bright light.
My eyes burn. I quickly lift my hand to block out the harsh assault on my peepers. I spot the gun before I get a chance to run. That’s when I hear the words I never thought I’d hear in my lifetime.
“Hands up!” No, no, no! “You’re under arrest.”
Well, today just keeps getting better and better.
***
The light shining in my eyes, I try to blink away the white spots that blur my vision but it’s a futile attempt.
“Raise your hands where I can see ‘em.” The rough voice does nothing to calm my racing heart. “Now slowly, making no sudden movements, I want you to lower the mask. Can you do that, Miss?”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I swallow hard and nod.
My left hand gently pulls at my mask, uncovering my face for the officer to see.
An annoyed huff. “Fuck. I knew it was you.”
The light lowers and I open my eyes. They don’t want to cooperate. I blink a little while before my vision clears. And I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry. I chuckle humourlessly, “You have got to be kidding me.”
Marco smirks. “Nice to see you, too, baby.”
The humour flees my face with such speed that immediately the air feels cooler around me. “Don’t call me that.”
His face quickly becomes expressionless. He clears his throat. “You have something to do with the murder of a squatter just up the way?”
I glare at him.
There’s no point in answering. He already knows.
He scratches at his chin with the butt of his gun. “Wanna tell me why she deserved it?”
Because she was feeding drugs to her babies to keep ‘em quiet while she did her begging routine during the day.
I continue to glare at him. He loses his cool. “Dammit, Cat, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”
My eyes roll of their own accord. I add in a scoff for good measure.
He takes a step closer to me. I wish he hadn’t done that. He smells amazing. Not to mention the way his uniform hugs his body makes me want to repeat history. Stupid, stupid history. I tell myself that’s just the adrenaline from the kill. Neither I nor my brain believe that.
He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You think I’m gonna snitch on you, honey? Maybe you should ask yourself why you’re not in jail right now and why the f**k I’ve been demoted from detective to late night patrol and desk work.”
Jerking my chin from his grip, I think on that for a second, never taking my eyes off of him. “You didn’t give us up?”
“No, ma’am.”
I don’t understand. “Why? You don’t owe us anything.”
His gaze moves down to my lips. My heart skips a beat as he mutters distractedly, “I’d do anything for another taste.” Shaking his head, he answers with, “I know I don’t owe you a damn thing. But it just didn’t feel right.”