21. Pain in My Ass

TWENTY-ONE

PAIN IN MY ASS

M y alarm went off, I told it to shut up, then I rolled to my back and stared at the ceiling, blearily trying to recall whose bright idea this stakeout business was, and if I could stop myself from murdering her.

Since it came to me it was Harlow, and then it came to me I loved her, I then came to the realization that I’d need to adjust my plans for the day to ones that were less homicidal.

It was the next morning, post-stakeout, and I needed to get up and get to work.

But first, allow me to catch you up from then to now.

After Eric left yesterday, I texted the girls (and Tito) that I wouldn’t be in and thanked them for covering for me.

I then resisted the urge to text my brother and ask him how he was doing, because I knew how he was doing (rotten), I knew what he had to do that day with his friends’ families had to stink, and I didn’t want him to think I was going to get up in his shit now that I had his new number.

I then dove into research on how to fry the best burger and discovered the mind-boggling number of philosophies regarding this concept (approximately 25,739—perhaps a slight exaggeration).

And I might have spent a few minutes (okay, it was more) looking at black wedding gowns.

Eventually, I morphed a few of the recipes together and realized, in all my kitchen accoutrement buying, I didn’t own a cast iron grill pan.

So I took a shower, swiped on some makeup, went to the mall to grab a pan and the grocery store to get the food.

Eric came home, we ate, and he declared my burgers were fantastic. I thought they were only pedestrian and made a mental vow to try again.

Though, the roasted fingerling potatoes with rosemary were da bomb.

We went to bed early because we had to drag ourselves out of it to go to the stakeout.

Important note: twice in this time I discovered Eric could fuck just as good as he could make love. And my testimony to that was the fact, after the nighttime version (the afternoon version was a quickie, still good, but it only hinted at what was to come), I passed out pretty much right after I got back in bed from cleaning up, which I barely had the energy to do, the sex had been so physical, and I’d come so hard.

Mm.

Onward from that…

My early morning QuikTrip choice was a bacon, egg grilled cheese, and proving he could surprise a girl on occasion, so was Eric’s.

We munched them on the way to the warehouse, and when we got to the stakeout zone, I saw Harlow and Brady there instead of Cap and Raye (she told me she was first up to spell their shitty timeslot, Luna and Knox were doing it tomorrow, and I hoped we’d wrap this case up before it became Eric’s and my turn, because our timeslot already sucked, it was just that Raye and Cap’s sucked more).

When we arrived, Harlow bounced up to me with ponytail swinging in an exuberant way that made me worry Eric and I weren’t doing stakeouts right.

Harlow asked after Jeff and Javi, though I was pretty sure she was more interested in Javi.

I gave her the expected response that they were both not in a good place, and she told me to tell them they were in her thoughts (and I was pretty sure she was keener I get that message to Javi).

After that, they took off.

I took first watch.

While I did, Eric lounged in the camp chair with his long legs stretched out and elevated, his boots resting on the edge of the window (hot), and he sipped coffee (also somehow hot, then again, I thought everything he did was hot).

Sometimes we chatted.

I learned Eric’s family never got another puppy after the one that died in the wreck with his mom, and Savannah didn’t like animals, so after the dog Eric had when he met her sadly passed, he didn’t get another one. I also learned he’d never had a cat. And last, I learned his favorite color was blue.

On the other hand, Eric had learned I took my photos with my phone, I’d never had a pet at all, and I confirmed my favorite non-color was black, my second favorite one was white, and I didn’t have a favorite actual color, but if forced to pick one under threat of torture, I’d pick red.

Through this, all was quiet on the camp front, and I fell asleep after my third shift of watching, so Eric did the whole final hour (was my guy the greatest, or what?).

He took me home. We had another quickie. It was a good one. So I was passed out before he even left my room to go to work (I mean, how does the man do it? He’s a machine).

Which brought me to now.

“Ugh,” I grunted as I hauled myself out of bed.

I pulled on my stretchy cotton nightie, my undies, hit the bathroom and loaded up my toothbrush. I was going at my teeth while heading into the kitchen to fire up the Nespresso when I screamed, jolted, my toothbrush went flying across the bar only to land on the floor in the living room, still vibrating and sending specks of toothpaste everywhere.

Javi, Jeff and Clarice, who were all standing in my living room, stared at the toothbrush.

I stared at them.

Then, mouth full of foam, I shouted, “What the fuck!”

They all looked at me. Jeff was laughing. Javi was smiling. Clarice put her hands on her hips like I’d personally wasted her entire morning.

I went to the kitchen sink, rinsed, spat, grabbed a towel to dab my mouth then headed to the living room to retrieve my toothbrush.

I turned it off, slammed it down on the coffee table, and instead of asking if any of them had heard of a telephone or knew how to ring a buzzer, I asked a more pertinent question of my brother.

“Are you okay?”

He pulled me into a tight hug.

“Man, I needed that laugh,” he whispered in my ear.

Oh.

Well then.

Whatever.

Jeff let me go, and I was about to ask Javi how he was doing when Clarice butted in.

“You sleep late.”

“Excuse me, but I was up at three fifteen to go stake out a homeless camp.”

“Your man has been at work for the last two hours,” she pointed out.

So, clearly, tabs were kept on the Nightingale men.

Hmm.

I wondered if they knew.

I socked that away to mention to Eric and addressed Clarice.

“That’s because I think he’s an immortal god who actually doesn’t sleep. He’s like Apollo or Zeus or somebody, existing among us mere mortals as a way to alleviate the boredom of eternal life. We just haven’t advanced in our relationship far enough for him to confide that in me,” I returned.

“I’d always wondered how that one was in bed,” Clarice muttered. “Think I have my answer.”

I wasn’t going to verbally confirm, but…she did have her answer.

I caught my brother making a gaggy face.

I took no offense. I got it. I didn’t want to think about how any woman he saw would be in bed either.

Moving on.

I turned my full attention to Jeff. “Not that I don’t want to see you. But what are you doing here?”

“I didn’t want you to worry, so I’m here to let you know we gotta vanish for a while,” Jeff explained hesitantly, and the hesitance was probably concern I would lose my mind, which would be the precursor to me lapsing into a lecture about this Shadow Soldier business.

Since Eric suggested them laying way low was the way to go, I didn’t.

And seeing as Jeff didn’t want me up in his shit so much that he took a half a year break from me, that was another reason why I didn’t.

That said.

I looked to Javi. “I take it you didn’t get it into the grapevine that raid wasn’t on your order.”

He shook his head but said, “I did. They’re just assholes. They went after our last brother. We got him safe. Now we gotta ghost.”

This wasn’t the best news in the world considering my brother had been ghosting me for a while. But since I had him back and didn’t want some aggressive, illegal narcotics organization to take him away from me forever, I’d have to deal.

To do that, I drew in a breath and let it go before I looked to Clarice. “What’s your part in this?”

She tipped her head to Javi. “I’m Javi’s attorney.”

Of course he had an attorney.

And of course she was his.

“And I have access to a safe house in the mountains,” she finished.

Right.

Taking in the slick, winter-white business dress with matching blazer she was wearing, I wondered if her safe house had fur rugs, and Waterford crystal for all your beverage needs.

I didn’t ask.

I went back to my brother. “Can we talk for a minute?”

He nodded, so I took his hand and led him to my bedroom.

“Gross, Jess,” he muttered. “It even smells like sex in here.”

I sniffed.

It smelled like rosemary, cedarwood, lotus blossom and pepper (the latter two were from my perfume) and…fucking.

Ah, happy memories.

“Jess,” Jeff tore me from my happy memories.

“How did yesterday go?” I asked gently.

Surprisingly, sorrow didn’t hit his face. Anger did.

“Jamal’s people were wrecked,” he shared. “They knew how it went down before they asked that first question, because they know Javi…and they know Joaq.”

“Okay,” I replied.

“Joaquim’s people were assholes. All up in Javi’s face that he killed their son and brother. Totally blaming him. Javi didn’t say dick. Just let them pile it on him.”

“Did you tell them it wasn’t his idea?” I asked.

“I started to, but Javi gave me a look to shut me up.” His head ticked angrily. “I get it. He’s willing to shoulder the blame that isn’t his when they’re grieving. But Joaq spent half his time growing up at Jamal’s house because his parents make Mom and Dad seem functional and loving.”

Yikes.

I winced.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“I’m sorry that was even less fun than it was already going to be,” I said.

“I am too.”

Taking us out of that…

“Okay, not that I’m going to text you every hour, but while you’re in the mountains laying low, can I contact you? Just to check in.”

He looked uncomfortable.

“I don’t have to,” I said quickly. “I’m sure it won’t take us long to figure this out, and then you guys can come back.”

Or at least I hoped it didn’t take long. I was so far over these stakeouts, it wasn’t funny.

“That’s not why I feel hinky.”

“Why do you feel hinky?”

“Because I fucked us up.”

I grabbed his hand again. “What? No. We had a thing. That thing is over.”

“You texted me once yesterday, Jess.”

I nodded. “I know.”

“The old Jess would have called to ask how it went down when we talked to Joaquim and Jamal’s people.”

Oh shit.

“Should I have done that?”

He pulled his hand from mine to point at me and say, “That. Right there.”

“What?”

“The shit I said made you think you have to back off. Made you think that offering to spend time with me after two of my friends were murdered is momming me.”

“I just wanted to?—”

“I was mouthing off,” he declared. “I was taking it out on you how pissed I was that it took me finding Javi to understand my diagnosis was serious, but it’s manageable. I didn’t have anyone who said, ‘Okay, he has this, how does he live the fullest life he can while having it?’ Then get me to those things.”

When I opened my mouth to say something, he hurriedly continued talking, at the same time showing he knew what I was about to say.

“And that wasn’t your job, Jess. You were only nineteen when I got diagnosed. But for them, I was just a pain in the ass. I was ‘mental.’ I was constantly listening to them bitching because they had to shell out a co-pay they wanted to use to buy booze or smokes or whatever the fuck. Listening to them complain how I was a drain because they had to take time off to take me to see a doctor. How I didn’t get access to some stuff I need, like CBT, something I’ve found can be really effective in reducing episodes, because it was too much money, too much of their time, too much of a hassle.”

He tore his hand through his hair as I fought the urge to race to our mother’s house and then to our father’s to tear each of them new assholes.

And then Jeff kept going.

“That was it, Jess. They made me feel like a constant hassle. So much of one, it made me think everyone thought that way about me. You. Joshua and Kat. Everyone.”

“I fucking hate them so much,” I whispered, my voice trembling with just how much I hated our parents.

He shook his head and got closer to me.

“Now I know. I know I can hold down a job. I know that people can depend on me for important shit. I know I’m normal, I just have an illness. There are millions of people who live with illnesses every day. I’m just one of them.”

I loved it that he figured that out. (I still hated our parents.)

“Even so, I can cool it with the big sis crap,” I offered.

“Jess,” he said quietly. “I was so into the life I was building, after cutting out everything from the one I had, I didn’t realize I’d cut out a lot of healthy stuff too. I didn’t realize it until you got in my shit. You weren’t holding me down. I was lumping you in with ‘That was when my life was fucked up.’ When it wasn’t you. It was Mom and Dad. Be you. Be my big sister. Give a shit.” He cracked a grin. “Obviously, I need you around to spring me from a police interrogation at least.”

I didn’t know what was happening to me, but in that moment, I didn’t fight it.

I hugged my brother.

“I don’t have all day!” Clarice called from the living room.

I sighed.

We broke.

Jeff watched me roll my eyes.

I watched him smile after I did it.

Then we walked into the living room.

Javi was looking between us but stopped on Jeff.

“Cool?” he asked.

Jeff nodded.

Javi looked at me. “Good?”

“Don’t make me be mushy. We just hugged. That’s all I have in me for today.”

Javi’s face split into a grin. It warred with the melancholy in his amber eyes, but I was still glad I could make him smile.

“We’re out,” Clarice decreed, before she strutted on her stilettos to the door.

Jeff gave me another hug, and Javi waited until my brother was out the door before he followed.

But I hustled and caught his forearm before he could get away.

He turned back, looking down to his forearm before looking at me.

I let him go and whispered, “Thanks for introducing my brother to himself.”

His handsome face grew gentle, and, man, it packed a punch.

“ Hermanita ,” he whispered.

“And don’t shoulder the blame,” I advised. “I’m not sure how you can stop yourself from doing that, but I really hope you try.”

I knew from the dark look that passed through his eyes this would be impossible in the now, but I hoped I planted a kernel that might someday grow.

Javi lifted his chin to acknowledge he heard me, but he said nothing.

I couldn’t do all this emotion. Days of it. Too much.

So I went on, “And Harlow is worried about you. She sends her thoughts.”

“Pain in my ass,” he muttered, but his mouth had softened the minute the name “Harlow” came out of mine.

Because it did, I made a split-second decision only time would tell if I’d regret. Though, with that gentle look I’d witnessed, I had a feeling I wouldn’t.

“I could set that up,” I offered.

“Total pain in my ass,” he said as he moved away.

I shifted into the walkway and called after them, “See you on the flipside.”

Jeff, on the stairs, jutted his chin to me. Clarice was already strutting toward the security gate. Javi, still on the walkway, didn’t look back, just lifted a hand and flicked out a couple of fingers—Mr. Cool.

I stood out there until I lost sight of them when the security door closed behind them, and then I dashed into my house.

I nabbed the toothbrush to finish brushing (after I disinfected it with bleach since it’d hit the floor, my house was clean, but…gross).

Though, first, I went to my phone to report to Eric what I’d just learned.

It was ringing before I got to it on my nightstand.

The screen told me Eric was calling.

“Hey, I was just going to call you,” I said as answer.

“I bet. What were your brother, Javi and Clarice doing at yours?”

I looked around, wondering if there were hidden cameras in my pad.

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“Because we hacked into the parking lot cameras of the Oasis so we can keep an eye on the three of you. Four, when Harlow moves in next week.”

Oh.

And…

Rad!

I forgot Harlow was going to be moving in that soon. I needed to ask if she wanted help packing.

“Jess,” Eric prompted in a growly tone.

Mm. Yum.

I shook off my pleasant reaction to his growly.

“First I will share how proud of myself I am that I’ve managed to curtail my homicidal tendencies twice today.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, like he was prompting me to go on, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“My parents are assholes,” I stated the obvious. “But Jeff and I worked shit out. I’ll explain more tonight.”

“Right. So the twice is both your parents?”

“No. I woke up wanting to kill whoever had the idea for the stakeout. Then I remembered it was Harlow, and I thus I determined I wasn’t down for bestie-icide.”

I listened to him chuckle.

Since I wouldn’t hear that much if I was in prison, I was super glad I had such fantastic willpower.

I continued my brief. “Javi put the word out it wasn’t his idea on the raid, but whoever this crew is doesn’t care, and they went after Cody. Javi and Jeff took care of Cody, whatever that means, I didn’t ask, but they did it. Though, apparently, Clarice is Javi’s attorney, and she set up a safe house for them in the mountains. Before they vanished, Jeff wanted to say goodbye.”

“Right,” he murmured. Then he said, “This is good, Jess.”

“I know,” I replied. “One other thing of note, Clarice told me she knew you’d been at work for two hours. I don’t know why, but I think that means Arthur keeps tabs on you.”

“Whoever this guy is probably he keeps tabs on anyone who touches the Angels.”

He didn’t seem concerned.

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“Since we’re looking out for you, if he’s looking out for you too, I don’t give a fuck.”

Great answer.

“Any word on this crew?” I asked.

“We’ve dedicated some resources to gathering intel, and we aren’t liking what we’re learning.”

Damn.

“What’s that?”

“Montoya was right. They’re expanding aggressively. As much as we’ve learned so far, they’ve got three active feuds ongoing, adding the one with Montoya is four. The cops are putting out fires everywhere, and by that I mean draping sheets over dead bodies until the coroner can bring the body bags. These assholes have a burn-it-to-the-ground-then-go-in-and-plant-seeds mentality. In other words, if they want your turf, you back off it or they’ll annihilate your crew and take it anyway.”

This was not good news.

Seriously.

But still, it didn’t answer why they’d be snatching unhoused people.

“Any theories on why they’re grabbing people from the camps?”

“No good ones,” he replied.

“Lay them on me anyway,” I ordered.

“Bossy,” he purred.

“Eric, don’t try distracting me by being sexy,” I snapped. Then I amended, “Or more sexy than your resting sexy.”

I heard another chuckle before he let out a big sigh and said, “A guess? Free labor.”

“You mean they’re?—?”

“Putting them to work sorting massive shipments into saleable-size merchandise? Yeah.”

“Oh my God,” I breathed, my mind flipping through the variety of ways you could force someone to work, who was so disenfranchised from society they lived in a tent without running water, available food, electricity, etc. And those were the ones who used shelter. Others might have a blanket and a prayer.

All of the ways my mind could conjure up were such that it wouldn’t entertain them before expelling them, violently.

“It makes fucked-up sense if you’re in that kind of fucked-up business,” Eric noted. “They don’t have to worry about quality control because they don’t give a shit about it. They can use fear and pain as motivators. Though, they probably have to feed them, otherwise, they’re free labor, so the profit-margin doesn’t take a hit.”

“We have to deal with these fuckin’ guys,” I clipped.

“We have to deal with these fuckin’ guys,” he agreed.

I glanced at my clock and groaned. “But first, I have to get ready for work.”

“Come to my place tonight. Pack a bag. I’m cooking.”

“You’re on.”

“Later, honey.”

“’Bye, baby.”

We hung up. I gave myself a moment to think about how sugary-sweet our goodbyes were and how I felt about that.

I quickly decided I not only had no problem with it, I loved it.

Then me and my toothbrush hit the bathroom (after, of course, we hit the bottle of bleach) so I could get ready for work.