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“By next week you might actually be able to start cooking in your own house,” I tell Liam, slapping a hand to his back.
“Yeah, that would be nice,” he returns. “I’d barely been able to sleep in the house comfortably before you started fixing it up. Now I can even take a shower here.”
“I work what magic I can.” I grin.
“I appreciate it.”
“It’s no problem. I enjoy fixer-uppers the most. Seeing something change day by day.”
“I always knew it had potential, but seeing it start to actually look like...a house is something else. Now I just need you to let me pay for it.”
I shake my head. “No can do. I figure I should grease your palm now while I can.”
He laughs. “And just what the hell are you greasing my palms for?”
“The future,” I state.
He looks over at me, his eyes assessing for a moment before he smiles and nods. “Good to know.”
We walk over to our cars, one parked in front of the other.
“What are you going to do now?” he asks.
“Take your sister out on a date,” I tell him. “You?”
“Nothing much. Hanging around here.”
“Not going out? Mariah was telling me you have a girlfriend.”
Sadness enters his eyes. “Not going out this weekend.”
Not wanting to press the subject, I just nod. “I’ll call and let you know what time I’ll be here tomorrow to work on the kitchen. Usually my guy, Stanley, works on the kitchens, but I haven’t been able to reach him for a few days. If I can’t get in touch with him tonight, I’ll do it myself tomorrow.”
“It’s cool. I’m sleeping under a roof that’s not leaking, so I’m good.” He chuckles.
“Okay. See you soon.”
He nods. “Give my little sis a good night.” He pauses. “That sounded disgusting. Just... Have a good night.”
I grin and get in the car. Even though the knowledge that I’m going home to get ready for a night out with Mariah should have me excited like it usually does, concern fills me instead. I’ve been trying to get in contact with Stanley for three days now. Even when he was late at the old site, he never missed a day of work, so him not showing up on Monday was the first red flag, quickly followed by the fact that he hadn’t picked up any of my calls or responded to any of my texts since then. I’d even gone into his paperwork and gotten his sister’s phone number and called her to check on him, but she hadn’t answered her phone or returned my call.
Carlos hadn’t seen or heard from him either. And on top of that was that I knew Stanley had his meeting with his probation officer tomorrow. What if he missed that too? And what the hell was going on that he couldn’t come to work or pick up my calls? It had crossed my mind that maybe everything that had happened with Higgins last week had made him weary of working for me, but I know that isn’t the case. And even if it were, he would have let me know instead of disappearing without a word like this.
If he doesn’t come to work or get in touch with me by tomorrow, I plan to just go to his sister’s house, find out what’s going on. Because something about all of this leaves what feels like a ten pound weight in my stomach. Something feels off... wrong. I don’t think he’s gone back to selling drugs, don’t think he’s decided to simply throw away all he’s done to turn over a new leaf. So what is it? Is he hurt, in danger, sick? I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.
I reach my apartment and go inside, taking a quick shower before throwing on some dark jeans and a dark gray long-sleeve shirt and black jacket. Once I’m back in my car, I head to pick up Mariah. The moment she opens the door and smiles at me, all my worries fade to the back of my mind. I find myself wondering if there will ever come a day when the first time I lay eyes on this woman doesn’t knock me off kilter for a moment. I know there won’t.
“Beautiful as always,” I say before kissing her.
When I pull away, her smile has grown.
“Thank you, handsome. Ready to eat? I’m starving.”
“Well come on then.”
I put my hand on her lower back, getting the shiver I savor from her, as we walk to the car. Leaning back a little, I watch her ass move under her dress. Lord, I can’t wait to see her without this dress on later.
“I get the feeling you’re checking out my ass, my love.” She smirks at me over her shoulder.
“I definitely am, and thinking about when I get my hands on it later,” I admit.
“Oh, I don’t think you’ll have to wait too long.” She grins.
We’re driving for no more than five minutes when red and blue lights begin flashing through the back window, followed by a siren a few seconds later.
“This fucking asshole,” I hiss as I pull over.
Mariah reaches across the armrest and links our hands. “It’s okay. Nothing is going to ruin this night.”
I give her hand a squeeze before I release it to get my papers from the glove compartment. And of course, fucking Miller walks up to the side of my car, but it’s when I notice two other police cruisers in my rearview mirror that something inside tells me this isn’t the normal interaction I’ve been having with Miller. And then another officer comes around to Mariah’s side, gun drawn, and I know this is entirely something else. Miller wouldn’t have witnesses to his fake stops. This is different, something much more serious, and dread pools in my stomach. Instead of rolling the window down, I look at Mariah out the corner of my eye.
“Whatever happens, you stay safe,” I tell her.
“What?”
“Whatever happens next, just do as they say. Please Mariah. I can’t have something happen to you.”
“Damir, what the hell is going on?”
“Something is about to go down, and I don’t know what but—”
I’m cut off by a hard knock on the window.
“But let it happen. And stay safe Mariah. Please.”
The knock comes again, harder this time, accompanied with Miller demanding I step out of the car, slowly.
“Damir,” Mariah croaks.
“I love you.”
I get out of the car, putting my hands up the moment they leave the handle, my hip pushing the door open while I rise. As soon as I fully stand, Miller wrenches my hands behind my back and slams me into the side of the car, my ribs knocking against it painfully as he puts cuffs on my wrists.
“Damir Lewis,” he growls near my ear, his rancid breath disgusting me. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Stanley Phillips.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I start to turn my head, but he slams me against the car again.
He can’t be correct. Stanley isn’t dead. He can’t be. He just can’t be. Right? What the hell is going on? But the more I tell myself he can’t be right, the more I can feel in my bones that he is. Stanley not showing up for work. Not answering my calls. Carlos not seeing him around. It fits. Devastation, despair, anger, they all slam into me at the same time. Stanley’s dead. He had his whole life in front of him, and now it’s gone. He’s gone, and apparently they think I killed him.
“What the fuck happened to him?” I shout as I struggle against Miller’s hold and the too tight cuffs that are already cutting into my skin. “What happened to Stan?”
“Save that act for the judge. Not that it’ll help you now,” he whispers in my ear. And I can hear the mirth in his voice, the joy he’s taking in this.
“You fucking asshole.” I throw my head back, trying to headbutt his nose. Because what the fuck do I have to lose right now? I’m being arrested for murdering someone. For murdering Stanley. These cuffs being on me means something, somewhere along the line, convinced a judge that there was enough evidence to issue a warrant for my arrest. I’m fucked. Might as well get my hits in while I can.
But the bastard must move his head in time because my head doesn’t connect, and my attempt earns me getting my head slammed into the car hard enough to make me see spots behind my closed lids. And a baton to my side. I groan as another voice begins reading me my rights.
I don’t pay the words any mind because Miller is turning me around, and then I’m face to face with him, scowling at the smirk he wears, a smirk I know all too well.
“Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?” The officer beside Miller asks.
I don’t answer, instead clenching my jaw as I continue to stare at Miller.
“Do you understand these...”
“Fuck you.” I spit. “Both of you. All of you.”
Miller punches me in the stomach hard enough to knock the breath out of me. But the moment I right myself, I charge for him, or I try to but quickly find myself restrained by three officers as Miller watches me try to get past them to wring his damn neck. Miller steps closer, sure that he’s safe with the other cops holding me back. He leans in, bringing his mouth as close to my ear as he dares.
“Told you I’d get you eventually, didn’t I?” Miller asks low.
“You motherfucker,” I bark.
Hands go to my pockets, emptying them while another officer pats me down.
I’m still struggling against the officers’ hold while they roughly search me, because I’m not going to make a damn thing easy for them, but I still when I hear Mariah screaming, yelling at them that they’ve got it wrong. I look over and find her standing in the open passenger door of the car. Her eyes, full of tears and rage, meet mine, and the fact that she has to see me in handcuffs breaks my heart.
Miller yanks me away from the car, and our gazes are ripped from each other’s as he begins leading me to his cruiser. His hands squeeze the cuffs harder into my wrists before he opens the door and shoves me into the backseat on my side. I hurry to adjust myself and look out the back window at Mariah as he closes the door. Her hand is over her mouth now, eyes only on me, even as some of the other officers try and talk to her.
“I love you,” I mouth to her.
She says it back and even though I can’t hear her, the words wrap themselves around my heart before the car starts to drive away. I know that I’ll need them for what’s to come.
I watch her out the back window until I can no longer see her, knowing the image of the devastation and heartbreak on her face will forever be etched in my mind. Even after we’ve turned on to a different street, I still stare out the window, not wanting to admit the reality of where I am to myself. But eventually, I take a deep breath and face front again, my eyes clashing with the monster looking at me in the rearview mirror. His grin and my seething rage are such sharp contrasts.
Only when he looks away do I let a bit of the anger fade to allow the sadness to come forward. Because I know that’s the emotion I’ll have to deny myself most once we reach the police station. The sadness, the grief welling inside of me. Stanley’s gone forever. I’ll never see him, hear his words or that laugh again. The last time I saw his seemingly always there smile was truly the last time. He’s dead, killed.
And somehow I’ve been arrested for his murder.
