9. Calm Your Tits

9 CALM YOUR TITS

Keaton

“What a fucking nightmare,” Noah stated the obvious as we pulled up to the townhouse.

The toxicology report on our latest victim showed traces of fentanyl and xylazine, also known on the streets as “tranq dope.” Combining the opioid with the––not for human consumption–– horse tranquilizer had become all the rage in the last couple of years. Why anyone would want to gamble with their lives in order to get high was beyond me, but the incidences of overdoses from the deadly mixture had been increasing at an alarming rate.

With the new information in hand, Noah and I took a road trip to the nearest DEA office in Charlestown an hour away, hoping they’d be able to shine a light on local dealers. We left four hours later with seventeen names, along with a new appreciation for our brothers at the agency. Seventeen scumbags in a two-hundred-mile radius was seventeen too many.

“We work through the list like we always do. One at a time. ”

“Yeah, except we have no idea what this fucker looks like,” he grumbled, stepping out of my SUV. “What are we supposed to say? ‘Excuse me. Have you sold any of your nasty drugs to someone who looks like they’re a serial killer?’”

“Christ, Noah,” I sputtered a laugh at the British accent he used. “We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow. Yippee,” he deadpanned.

“What the hell has gotten into you?”

“Nothing.”

I whirled on him, stopping fifteen feet from the front door.

“Bullshit. This attitude is way out of character for my normally calm, cool, and collected best friend. What gives?”

He dragged a hand through his messy brown locks––which were in serious need of a trim––and sighed. Noah was the very definition of pragmatic. If you looked up the word in a dictionary, you’d see his clean, crisp photo to the right. It’s what made him an elite FBI agent and most likely the reason he’d chosen to hop on the profiler wagon.

“It’s got nothing to do with the case. Just me being stupid.” I raised a brow and waited for him to elaborate. “Fuck. I’m jealous, okay? Are you satisfied?”

I rocked back on my heels, completely taken off guard.

“Jealous of what?”

“Your relationship with Henley.”

Narrowing my eyes, I took two menacing steps forward. “Be very careful with your next words, Noah, because if I find out you’re secretly crushing on my girl, friend or not, I will fuck you up.”

“Jesus, you idiot.” He shuffled backward. “I want what you have, not who you have. Calm your tits.”

“Why are you talking about tits on my steps? And why do I get the impression we stepped in the middle of a dick measuring contest?” Lanie grumbled as she and Koen, who was carrying four pizza boxes, stepped onto the sidewalk from the parking lot.

“No measuring of any kind going on here. We were just getting ready to knock,” Noah offered as he and I both moved to take the multitude of grocery bags out of her hands.

“Good. You’d give Mrs. Lewis next door a damn heart attack. The old bat doesn’t need any more ammunition to report me to the HOA.”

Maneuvering around us, she opened the front door, holding it wide for us to go inside ahead of her. I expected to hear something…anything; the hum of the TV or the soft chatter of two friends gearing up for a night of games, but the silence was deafening.

“Henley?” I yelled out, my hand itching to grab for the Glock still strapped to my hip.

“In here.” It wasn’t my girl’s muted reply, which came from the direction of the kitchen.

She was seated on a barstool, head bowed, with Jade next to her whispering something in her ear. I ignored the rest of my team as they filtered in, my gaze focused intently on the other half of my soul, who appeared to shrink in on herself the farther into the room I got.

“Baby?”

Her eyes hit me first, the normally vibrant emerald color having dulled with the tears which dripped from her swollen lids. What I saw next––a deep purple bruise beginning to form on the side of her chin––had me flying across the room, dropping the bags to the floor and lifting her from the stool into my arms, where she clung to my neck in a death grip. With my hands under her ass, I hitched her farther up my body until her legs wound around my waist.

“What the hell happened?” Lanie peppered Jade with the same question that was burning a hole in my gut. Luckily, I was already on the move when she said the one name guaranteed to stop me in my tracks. Chase.

Kicking a chair out from under the kitchen table with the toe of my shoe, I sat with Henley curled in my lap, half-listening to the story being told in the background. At this point, I knew everything I needed to know. Chase-motherfucking-McArthur was a walking ghost for putting his hands on my woman.

“Shh, baby. I’ve got you. You’re safe,” I cooed, not missing the hiss of pain from her lips when I moved my hands from her ass to her back. “He hurt your back too?”

“He shoved her into the side of my car after she punched him in the throat.” Jade’s shaky voice somehow penetrated the whooshing sound in my ears.

Lifting my head, I peered around the room. Lanie was beside her, their fingers tangled together in a comforting move, while Koen stood at their backs, arms crossed over his expansive chest as if he were on guard. Which he damn-sure was. Noah had positioned himself in the corner, his jaw clenched while he spoke to someone––presumably Duncan or Waverly––on the phone. My gaze drifted back to Jade, who gave me a little nod, before my mouth tipped slightly at the corners.

“You hit him, baby?”

“Yeah.” She reclined back on my thighs. She was a mess, but she was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

“I’m so proud of you.” I kissed each corner of her mouth, then carefully probed her chin around the bruise with the tips of my fingers. There weren’t any obvious deformities or breaks that I could feel, then again, I wasn’t a doctor.

“Ambulance is on the way. Duncan and Waverly are as well, and they’ve invited a friend of the local variety.” Noah dipped his head, confirming the question he saw in my eyes. Their so-called friend would be someone from the Huntington PD. Unfortunately, their assaults fell outside our jurisdiction, meaning we’d have to hand it off to them. We had a great relationship with the boys in blue so depending on who showed up, there was still a chance we could be involved.

“I don’t need an ambulance, Keaton,” she argued. “It’s only a few bumps and bruises.”

“We need it all documented, Henley,” Lanie interjected, leaving her post at the counter to kneel at our feet. “Considering the asshole’s last name, we have to do everything by the book, even though my first instinct is to hunt him down and make him suffer.”

“Jade. Do you have any injuries?” I cursed myself for not asking earlier.

“Oh, um. My wrist is pretty sore from when the guy twisted it behind my back.”

“Why the hell didn’t you say anything before now?” Koen exploded. Jade startled with his outburst, nearly falling off the edge of the stool. He reached her in time, steadying her with his hands on her hips. “I’m sorry for scaring you, Angel. Can I see?”

Angel? Interesting.

He waited for permission before gently picking up her arm. I’d watched him handle victims with kid-gloves numerous times, but this was not one of those times. There was something very different about the way he was acting with her. With a tender precision I’d never witnessed before, he tested her range of motion, slowly turning her wrist from side to side, then up and down. Every grimace she made; his jaw ticked in anger.

“I don’t think it’s broken, probably a bad sprain.” He laid her arm back on the counter, then rummaged through the freezer; coming back with a bag of frozen corn wrapped in a dish towel. “Keep this on until the EMTs get here.”

Sirens sounded in the distance and before long, flashing red-and-blue lights flickered through the glass of the kitchen window. Lanie rushed from the room to let them in, followed closely by a distracted Noah, who was typing frantically on his cell phone. Koen glanced at me, mouthing, “What the fuck?” which I answered with a fuck-if-I-know shrug of my shoulders. But all was revealed a few moments later when the ambulance crew was escorted inside by my two bosses, along with an older woman wearing a loose-fitting blouse and jeans with a badge clipped to her belt. What surprised me though, was the fact Nelson was trailing behind them, his laptop tucked under his arm.

Henley tensed in my hold with the appearance of the two most influential people in my life. I could almost taste the anxiety rolling off of her in waves, which was entirely my fault for not having prepared her better. From the talk about our pasts, she knew how much of a role Waverly and Duncan had played in my decision to become an FBI agent, so it made perfect sense for her to be nervous about meeting them. What she didn’t know was she had nothing to worry about. They were both firmly on the Team Henley bandwagon.

“Can you tell me where you’re injured, ma’am? ”

Before she had a chance to answer the young medic, who appeared to have just graduated high school, I intervened.

“Listen, kid. No offense, but we need a female to check her out.”

“Sir, I’m a prof––” He stopped mid-word, swallowing thickly at my low growl. “Melissa, you take this one.”

“Wise move.”

“Really, Keaton?” Henley smacked me in the chest with the back of her hand. “You’re such a caveman.”

I grunted in response because she wasn’t wrong. Muffled chuckles filled the room as my crew tried––and failed––to control their laughter. All except Duncan, who’d leaned his huge frame against the far wall; arms and legs both crossed in front of him in a relaxed manner, which I knew from experience was far from the truth. He was acting as a sentry; his ever observant ice-blue eyes on a constant swivel looking out for danger.

“Hello, Henley. I’m Waverly Mitchell, Resident Agent in Charge of these hooligans,” she said with a crooked smile, extending her hand. Henley returned the sentiment, hissing when the female medic began feeling around her jawbone.

“The big bastard over there is Duncan Palmer, baby.” My girl was a little more hesitant as she turned her attention to the six-foot-six, broody federal agent, but relaxed exponentially when he returned her awkward wave with a wink.

“And I’m Nelson.” He pointed to himself.

“It’s nice to meet you all, I just wish it were under different circumstances.”

“I know you’ve had a rough night, and I’m sorry for the part we are about to play in making it more difficult, but this is Detective Shayne Black. She’ll be investigating your attack. ”

“Hey, Henley.” The woman slid a chair out from under the table and sat down; taking a black notebook and pen out of her purse before setting it on the floor. “Can you tell me exactly what happened?”

Hearing the story a second time was no less horrific than the first, actually it was more so, considering I had tuned out most of what Jade said in lieu of caring for Henley. Both girls were rock stars though, walking us through every step they made after leaving Over Easy, all the way up to their arrival home. Every tear Henley shed tore at my soul and from the hard edges on the faces of my teammates and closest friends, I wasn’t the only one willing to absorb her pain or even to dole some out in her honor.

“Ms. Graves, would it make you more comfortable to go somewhere more private so I can check out your back?” the EMT asked when Henley finished giving her statement.

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Actually, we have a few things to discuss, Keaton,” Duncan voiced, speaking for the first time since entering the home.

“Does it have anything to do with my case?” Henley questioned, getting a nod from my supervisor. “Then I’d appreciate it if you’d wait for me. I have the right to know.”

“Fair point,” he conceded before spearing me with a look I knew all too well.

Fuck. This wasn’t good.

Henley

Sierra, the EMT, was incredibly tender as she probed my back, even going so far as suggesting the use of arnica cream to minimize the bruising. When he wasn’t crowding the poor girl in, Keaton was pacing, mumbling under his breath––loudly––about the great pleasure he would take in replicating every single mark he found on my body when they arrested Chase. Accidentally, of course.

By the time we finished with the exam and I was instructed to follow up with my primary care doctor, exhaustion was riding me hard. What was supposed to be a fun, enjoyable night had turned into a nightmare of epic proportions. The only thing I wanted to do was crawl in bed with Keaton wrapped around me and sleep until June. Since the kitchen was currently filled with more federal agents than we’d originally planned on, thoughts of a good night's sleep went out the window.

“Where’s Jade?” I asked, searching the room for my friend.

“They took her to have X-rays done of her wrist,” Koen explained.

“I’m going to grab you a couple slices of pizza.” Keaton placed his hands on my knees after positioning me at the table.

“I’m not really hungry.” The gentle, but firm squeeze he gave them, plus the worry in his eyes had me quickly amending my statement. “But I should eat something. Thank you.”

After handing me a plate with more slices than I could possibly eat, Keaton positioned himself behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders, gently kneading the flesh between his fingers.

“Not to be rude, but why are you here, Nelson?” he questioned.

“The three of us were already on the way here when we got the call from Noah,” Waverly started. “Nelson was able to pull photos and other files from Henley’s broken phone.”

“Oh my God, really?” I exclaimed around a mouthful of food, glancing at the man in question. He gave me a sad smile and nodded; his lack of enthusiasm turning my stomach. Something wasn't right and by the sudden shift in the air, I knew I wasn’t the only one who’d picked up on it.

“What other files?” Keaton’s tone was harsh, brutal even. So unlike the man I’d fallen for.

Ignoring Keaton, Duncan lowered his gargantuan frame in front of me. The hard set of his eyes softened as he looked directly into mine and spoke.

“You were very smart to record on your phone that night, Henley. Smart and brave.”

Oh no! The attack on campus.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Keaton bristled behind me, becoming increasingly agitated.

“Stand down, Agent Clarke,” Waverly ordered, but I could barely hear her over the rapid-fire memories shooting through my brain.

The disgusting words Chase rattled off played on repeat, as did the images of him dragging me off into the woods where he’d planned to rape me.

Duncan continued, oblivious to the raging storm tearing me apart inside.

“The night Chase McArthur attacked Henley on campus, she somehow had the wherewithal to record the entire incident on her phone.”

“Holy shit,” Lanie breathed.

“So, what? We’ve got him for another assault and battery?” Koen questioned.

I stiffened, knowing what was coming next. I’d told Keaton enough that he got the gist of what went down, but if Nelson had truly been able to recover the entire recording, he’d know…they’d all know how close I’d come to being destroyed.

Waverly cleared her throat. “We’ve got him on attempted rape.”

My eyes began to drift shut, unable to witness the pity I knew I’d find on each of their faces. However, they sprang back open when I heard Keaton growl, “I’m going to kill that motherfucker with my bare hands,” as he stormed from the room. Three seconds later, the front door opened, then slammed closed, rattling the windows to the point I feared they’d break.

No one moved except me. I was in a panic. Jumping from my seat, I moved to follow him, to stop him from acting out on his rage, but Waverly stepped in my path.

“Give him a few minutes to calm down, Henley.”

“I don’t think we have a few minutes. If he gets behind the wheel of his car in the state he’s in…” I couldn’t finish my sentence.

“He’s not going anywhere.” Duncan held up two small metal objects between his fingers. They had spiral ridges on one end and what looked like a plastic shell on the other. “I yanked the spark plugs out of his car before we came in.”

Apparently, I was the only one who didn’t have a clue what he was talking about because everyone else snickered. Thankfully, Lanie took pity on me and explained that spark plugs are what ignited the engine, hence the name.

“I know you may feel helpless right now, but the best thing you can do for Keaton is to let him work through the anger.” Waverly ushered me back to my seat.

“She’s right.” Lanie joined me. “You have to understand. Keaton may have known deep down what happened to you in those woods, but to get confirmation of his worst fear is fucking him up. He’s protective to a fault and coupled with the attack this evening, he’s blaming himself for not being there for you.”

“What? That’s crazy. I need to set him straight.”

“You can’t,” Duncan sighed. “But I can.”