Love and Law Page 9

  He ignores me and continues to dig his fingers between my legs. I burst into tears because I’m helpless against the situation.

  In an effort to block out his touching me, I look up over the car and see Ben storming toward us from across the street. He looks insanely furious as he watches fucking Jake paw me. He’s nearly halfway across the street when I shake my head and plead silently with him.

  “No. Go!” I mouth urgently, hoping he gets the message before either of the guys notice him.

  He stops and palms his face, unsure what to do.

  I plead again, “Please go!” and he curses before stalking away in the opposite direction. CJ stands on the sidewalk waiting for Ben to come back, looking panic stricken. Nobody knows what to do. But I know that, if Ben inserts himself into Tameka’s and my drama, it will mess up any hope I have of getting to Oculus.

  Once back on the sidewalk, Ben turns to me as I am stuffed into the police car. His face is sad and hopeless. I know he wants to help me but wisely stays planted on the other side. Tears continue to fall from my eyes because I know he’s worried about me. And even though he’s pissed at me for lying, I know he’s more worried about me getting hauled off to jail. It’s written all over his face.

  Tameka is pushed in from the other side by Miguel. The two officers leave us alone while they confiscate our backpacks.

  “Way to fucking go,” Tameka spits out through her tears. We’re both crying like a couple of babies. She’s crying because she got caught. I’m crying because Jake fucking sexually assaulted me and Ben had to watch it.

  “Don’t talk to me, bitch. You stole from Be—Pac! I know you’re working for Blaze!” I accuse. My tears are quickly dissolving as anger sets in.

  “Oh, don’t even start,” she says dismissively.

  I lift my leg and kick her hard in her thigh. She curses at me, and we become a flurry of flailing legs until the car doors open from each side. Miguel and Jake quickly pull us apart and zip-tie our ankles together.

  “Shit, you females are crazy!” Jake laughs before shutting the door and climbing up front.

  Miguel tosses me a disappointed glare before slamming the door and getting in the driver’s seat. Thankfully, the short drive to the station is a quiet one. Upon arrival, after they cut the zip-ties, Miguel and Jake separate us—I go with Miguel and Tameka goes with Jake. He takes me straight into an interrogation room, unhooks my handcuffs, and pulls out a chair for me to sit.

  “Maya, what the fuck is going on?” he demands, slamming his fist down on the table. It takes a lot for Miguel to get angry, and he’s fucking livid.

  “I’m trying to do my job!” I shriek. My voice is shrill and I’m upset at the way things went down.

  “Kicking the ass of a suspect is NOT doing your job! Once she finds out you’re a cop, the bureau will be in all kinds of shit for police brutality. What part of ‘keep a cool head’ did you not understand?”

  Tears fill my eyes and I feel like my normal bravery has been stripped of me. And just like I knew it would, I’m overwhelmed at how my wrong choices are coming back to haunt me.

  “I’m sorry, Miguel,” I apologize tearfully.

  He walks around behind me and pats my shoulder. “I know you are. But Sommerhaul is going to be pissed. Just warning you there. If he doesn’t think you’re making any headway on the case, he’s going to pull you.”

  I’m already shaking my head no. “Shit, Miguel. I’m close! It won’t be long before I locate Oculus. He’s the leader! If he pulls me now, we’ll lose all the work I’ve done this week.”

  “You’re losing it a bit, babe,” he says, ruffling my hair before sitting down in the chair beside me.

  “I’m not losing it. If you guys will leave me alone, I can take down Oculus and Blaze!” I’m still upset when fucking Jake comes into the room. Sanity takes a flying leap out the window as I bolt from my chair and punch him hard in the nose.

  “Fucking bitch!” he hisses. Blood is already pouring from his nose, and he makes a hasty retreat from the room before I have a chance to clock him again.

  “Maya! Calm the fuck down!” Miguel orders.

  “No, I’m filing a report on his ass, Miguel! He felt me up when he searched me! In case you didn’t know, that’s sexual assault!” My chest is heaving from exertion. I’m a basket case right now.

  “I’ll fucking kill him,” he growls and once again crashes the balls of his fists on the old wood table.

  “Thank you,” I say softly, looking over at him.

  When he makes eye contact with me, he smiles. “How many times have you busted Jake’s nose anyway?” he smirks.

  I giggle and tell him the truth. “That makes nine and he fucking deserved each and every one of them!”

  The door swings open and a red-faced Sommerhaul bursts in. “What the fuck, Simpson? I give you one task—ONE! I was going to make you lieutenant if you brought these fuckers down, but you’re out there having catfights?”

  I cringe as he reprimands me. “I’m sorry, Captain, for today, but you have to let me go back in. I’m close. The head guy is Oculus. Pac trusts me now. I will get him to take me to him. And things are coming to a head with Blaze. Stupid Tameka had way more coke than our normal daily allotment. I’m just sure she’s involved. Please, I am so close,” I beg.

  His red face turns pink, which means he’s thinking about it. I’m crossing my fingers and toes, praying that he gives me another chance. Someone knocks on the door and Sommerhaul gruffly orders them to come in.

  Jim walks in, looking excited. “You’ll never believe this. Simpson’s already been bailed out. She’s garnered the attention of someone.”

  Sommerhaul snaps his attention back to mine and grins at me, flashing his yellowing teeth. “This is good news. Turns out, you weren’t just fighting with girls on the street. Someone wants you back.”

  My stomach flops. Ben. Why did he have to bail me out? Shit!

  “Who posted bail?” Miguel asks Jim.

  Jim winks at me. He has no fucking clue. “A Benjamin Cartwright bailed her out.”

  My heart sinks, but I knew it was him before he even told me his name.

  “What do I do now?” I question.

  “Follow normal protocol and you’ll be ‘released.’ Keep us posted. Miguel and Jake or Jim will be patrolling the office building you told us about. Find out the location of the other one and see what you can get on Oculus and Blaze. Let’s take these assholes down,” Sommerhaul orders. He’s pretty fucking happy, because if we manage something this big, we’ll make national news. His career is riding on this. The Major is retiring soon, and Sommerhaul would be a shoo-in if he is the head of this investigation.

  He stands and follows Jim out of the room, leaving me with Miguel. We rise to our feet, and he pulls me in for one of his comforting hugs.

  “You can do this, Maya. Keep your head in the game. Stop getting distracted and remember why you’re there. Sommerhaul said it—you could make lieutenant over this and nobody deserves it more than you. Well, besides me of course,” he teases. With a kiss to the top of my head, he sends me back to the ghetto.

  THAT FUCKING PIG GROPED HER. He put his hands on my girl! I’m still in a rage as I pace the lobby of the police station. I won’t calm back down until I have her back. She may be lying about her past, but it doesn’t change my feelings for her. It wasn’t until I saw her shoved to the sidewalk and then manhandled by that asshole cop I recognized from the other night, that I didn’t care about her petty lies. She is mine and I don’t want anything to happen to her.

  She comes out of a set of double doors looking lost and broken. My heart fucking aches. This sweet, smart, beautiful woman was sent to jail because of me. I’m going to tell her that she can’t deal anymore. She means too much to me already to be put away for drugs. Maya is a diamond in a sea of dirty rocks. I want to keep her shiny and perfect—untainted.

  When she sees me, she takes off in a run toward me and throws herself into my a
rms, where I gladly pull her to me.

  “Baby girl,” I murmur into her hair.

  She starts to cry and has a death grip around my neck. “I’m so sorry, Ben! I need to talk to you. Can we go somewhere far away from here please?” she begs quietly.

  “Sure, let’s blow this joint.”

  “Wait!” Her eyes are wild. “Tameka had so much fucking blow in her bag. I think she was helping Blaze. He’ll have a hard time bailing her out. She had a fucking lot, Ben.”

  I glare down at her and clinch my jaws together. There’s no way Tameka worked alone on that.

  “Let’s go,” I finally exhale out angrily. Not angry at her, but angry with the fuckers that are messing shit up.

  Lifting her head to mine, she stands on her toes to kiss my lips but then quickly darts her gaze around the room. I look over her head to see that Mexican cop staring at her openmouthed. He looks shocked at first, then hurt, and then pissed. It doesn’t make any sense except that maybe he too has the hots for her just like the other guy.

  I protectively put my arm around her shoulder and guide her away from the sickos in this place. We walk quickly out of the station to my car parked down the street, away from his prying eyes. Once we’re safely inside the car, she scrambles into my lap puts her head on my shoulder.

  I hold her close to me and stroke her arm. This feels right. She feels perfect in my arms. I’m taking her home tonight. End of fucking story.

  “Get buckled in, baby girl. We’re going somewhere special,” I tell her and slap her leg playfully.

  She sighs, clearly not wanting to leave my arms, but nonetheless complies.

  Once she’s settled, I drive through the streets, on a mission. We’re quiet as we’ve both given in to getting lost in our own thoughts. Not twenty minutes later, we’re pulling into my driveway.

  She perks up once I park and smiles at the house. “Where are we?” she asks excitedly.

  I grin over at her as we get out and start walking to the front door. “We’re home, Maya. I want you to meet someone.” Taking hold of her hand, I guide her up the front steps and through the door.

  As soon as we walk in, she gasps. “Oh my goodness, Ben! This house is gorgeous!”

  My chest puffs out with pride. I’ve worked really hard over the years, redoing the hardwoods, painting, and installing all new detailed trim, doors, and crown molding. Grammy loves it, and now, so does my girl. So yes, I’m really fucking proud.

  “Pooh Bear? Are you home?” Grammy calls out as she enters the entryway. I cringe at my nickname and Maya stifles a giggle. Once Grammy sees our conjoined hands, she puts her own hand to her mouth. “Oh, my sweet Benjamin. You’ve brought home a girl. A beautiful girl to meet your grammy. Sugar, I’m Velma, but you are to call me Grammy.”

  Maya smiles broadly at her and extends her free hand to shake it. “I’m Maya Simpson.”

  Grammy rolls her eyes at her. “Come here, silly. We hug in this house.” She squeezes my girl in an affectionate embrace and my heart tightens.

  This—this is what I’ve been searching for. My missing link. Maya. And now I know her as Maya Simpson.

  Grammy pulls away from Maya and inspects her properly. “Yes, ma’am. You’ve got nice, thick, childbearing hips,” she praises with a pinch to her hip. “Perfect for rearing up some great-grandbabies for me!”

  “Whoa, Grammy. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’ve just started seeing, Maya. She isn’t ready to start popping out babies for you!” I scold my overbearing grandmother.

  “Nonsense, Pooh Bear. Now get both of your tushes into the kitchen. I’ve a pot of beans and a ham hock in the pot. The cornbread has just come out of the oven.” She bustles into the kitchen leaving us in the entryway. Maya’s eyes are twinkling happily.

  “I haven’t sat down to a home-cooked meal in so long,” she gushes with a huge grin. “Plus, the little tease of her cooking you shared with me other day just insured the fact that I’ll love tonight’s meal as well.”

  I squeeze her hand. “Baby girl, Grammy never disappoints. Her beans are a church-gathering favorite.”

  After guiding her into our small kitchen, I pull a chair out for her to sit. Grammy has already set the table for the third place setting and is dishing up huge bowls of beans. I pour all three of us some freshly brewed tea before I sit down to my steaming bowl.

  Maya politely waits for Grammy to sit down with us before she dips her spoon in her bowl and poises it for a bite.

  “No, ma’am,” Grammy admonishes. Maya widens her gaze but wisely drops her spoon back into the bowl even though I can tell her mouth is watering for the delicious supper. “We haven’t said or blessings yet, sugar.”

  Maya mutters an, “Oh,” and bows her head. She clasps her hands together and looks so angelic. Today, she’s wearing a fitted black T-shirt and some more of her sexy blue jeans. And even though she’s a little scuffed up from getting arrested, she still looks hot.

  “Dear Lord, we thank you for your many blessings. Thank you for bringing this sweet Maya into my Pooh Bear’s life. I just know she’ll make beautiful children for my grandson. Please bless her with a baby soon because I’m getting too damn old to wait any longer. Sweet Jesus, forgive me for cursing, but I really am getting too old.” She pauses.

  Sneaking a peek over at Maya, I almost burst out laughing when I see her watching my Grammy openmouthed, completely shocked at her bold prayers.

  “And, Lord, thank you for giving my sweet boy a skill. He’s a master at what he does and provides such a good living for us. Oh, and thank you, Jesus, for giving Lynetta laryngitis. That old bitty talks too damn much. You did us all a favor. Can you give her permanent laryngitis? Is that such a thing, Lord? I’m a good woman and don’t ask for much. Surely you can help this old woman out. Anyway, in Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.”

  She sets to eating her beans while Maya momentarily recovers from one of Grammy’s epic prayers. As always, I have to hold in my laughter so I don’t earn a swat with her magazine. Maya cuts her eyes at me and questions me with them, but I shrug and grin at her. She smiles back before dipping her spoon into the bowl. When she finally tastes a bite, she moans appreciatively. My dick throbs—I know she’ll be moaning tonight when I’m deep inside of her.

  “Grammy, these beans are delicious,” she praises my grandmother.

  Not only did she earn brownie points for complimenting her cooking, but the fact that she called her Grammy will make my grandmother adore Maya. Hell, I adore Maya.

  “Sugar, you have as much as you want. I’ve got some cookies in the oven too, so save a little room for those. Real women have curves and I think you could use a few more. Eat up, buttercup!” Grammy orders Maya.

  Maya grins and we quietly—well, aside from the occasional ‘mmm’—eat our beans. When Grammy gets up to check on the cookies, Maya leans in toward me.

  “What ‘skill’ is she talking about? Does she know?” she whispers low enough for Grammy not to hear.

  “I’ll show you later,” I promise softly so she won’t bring any attention to our conversation.

  “Here’s some of my famous chocolate chip cookies, sugar. I want you to eat as many as you can,” Grammy orders, setting the plate down in front of us.

  I watch Maya while she eats. She looks like she belongs in this kitchen with us. Her eyes are sparkling with what looks like happiness. Why would having a simple family dinner make her so happy? I really wish she would tell me more about her past. There’s a fucking story there and I intend to find out what it is.

  After dinner, Maya and I offer to help Grammy clean up the kitchen, but she insists I take her down to my workshop.

  “Come on. I want to show you something,” I tell her, clasping her hand with mine.

  She follows me as I lead her through the house to the heavy oak door Dad designed not long before he was killed. I wrench it open and flip on the switch. Together, we make our way downstairs to my workbench.

  She raises her eyebrows
in question. As far as she knew, I was just another drug dealer. But there’s more to me than that. This basement is where I love losing hours of time creating works of art made from wood. I’m the kind of guy, just like my father was, who goes with the wood rather than forcing a concept. Dad always used to say, “The wood will speak to you.” And he was right.

  She walks over and sits in the newly crafted rocking chair I’ve been working on for Grammy’s birthday. I still need to stain and seal it, but it’s ready other than that.

  “Did you make all of this stuff?” she asks, gesturing around the basement to all of my projects—some finished, some not.

  “Yeah,” I tell her sheepishly. I’m not sure why I’m embarrassed. This has been kept a secret from all of my friends and any chicks I’ve been with in the past. What if she thinks I’m a lame-ass?

  “Ben, this is amazing! Your work is so detailed and beautiful. Did you do the trim work upstairs?”

  I nod as I walk over to a bench and pick up my latest finished product.

  She stands and inspects some of the chests I’ve been working on in the corner. “What are these?” she asks, pointing at them.

  “I’m making them for a client in Canada.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “So you do all of this with wood and sell it? Do you have a shop?”

  I shake my head at her. “No, it’s all done online. I’ve taken jobs where I go to people’s homes and install porch swings I’ve made or fireplace mantels—stuff like that. I pretty much can make anything with wood.”

  She smiles at me with pride but then pinches her eyebrows together in confusion. “Is this a profitable business?”

  “Yeah. I do quite well with it.” I’m not sure where she’s going with this.

  “So if it is profitable and you love it, why do you do the other ‘job’? I’m sure your Grammy doesn’t know about that one, right?”

  “Grammy doesn’t know about that job, nor will she ever. I do that job because I feel like I owe Oculus for being the father in my life that I lost. He fulfilled that role for me, and I am very grateful. Besides, once you’re into something like being his right-hand man, one simply doesn’t just quit. I’ve been hoping that I can talk to him about it, but I have a feeling it won’t go well.”