All I Want (Alabama Summer #2) - Page 23/64

I put it on the carpet next to my leg and grab the phone from her. “Go start chugging water and get your ass in the shower.”

She stands, looking down at me with confusion. “I’m not thirsty, and why am I taking a shower?”

I unlock the screen and pull up her keypad before connecting with her eyes. “Would you just do what I say for once without giving me shit first?” She blinks rapidly, stepping toward the kitchen. “Go, and don’t come out until I tell you to.”

I begin dialing the number, her footsteps trailing off behind me. The asshole under me decides to laugh and I yank his arm back, stealing his breath from him.

“Don’t fucking push me, man.”

The call connects in my ear. “Tully.”

I loosen my hold, softening his protest so I can hear more clearly. “Hey, it’s Luke. Are you patrolling right now?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I need you to come to Cherry Point apartments. Tessa was attacked.”

“What? Shit! Is she okay?”

“She’s shaken up a little, but she’s not hurt. I got here before anything happened. That’s why I was in such a rush earlier and couldn’t talk. I was trying to look up this fucker’s license plate number to get information on him.”

“Does he have priors?”

“Two domestic charges that were dropped. Look, man, he’s got drugs on him, and I may have broken his wrist, but I don’t think we need to rush getting a paramedic over here.”

He laughs into the phone. “I hear ya. What apartment number is she?”

“211. Is Jacobs with you?”

“Yeah.”

Fuck. He couldn’t be patrolling by himself tonight? I don’t need that shithead getting on my case.

“You need a new partner.”

“Yeah,” he repeats, zero humor in his voice.

We didn’t all get lucky when it came to partners, and CJ has the worst one in the unit.

“We’ll be there soon.”

I toss the phone onto the couch after he hangs up, shifting my weight in the process, and causing the prick under me to moan in discomfort.

“You can do better than that,” I say, pinning his snapped wrist between my knee and the floor.

He sucks in a breath before bellowing, “ARRGHHH STOP! STOP! SHIT!”

I ease up, feeling the sadistic smile creep onto my face before water rushes on in the distance. And then, simply because I don’t want to think about her taking a shower, I make him scream.

Drowning out my obsession.

***

Hurried footsteps alert me of company and seconds later, CJ fills the doorway of Tessa’s apartment. I look past him, locking onto the unimpressed smirk that’s permanently fixated on Jacobs’ face as he looks at me from over his partner’s shoulder.

Dick.

“Jesus, man. Is he dead?” CJ asks, stepping inside and dropping the hand he has on his gun as he surveys the body I’m crushing into the carpet.

I stand, hauling the barely conscious prick to his feet. He’d probably be more alert if I hadn’t spent the last fifteen minutes trying to re-break his wrist, but something had to distract me from Tessa in the shower.

“Where’s the girl?” Jacobs asks, pulling out his cuffs as CJ takes the guy out of my hands.

I look over my shoulder in the direction of the hallway that leads to the bathroom. “Shower. She said she’ll be in there a while.” I turn back around, catching the slow shake of his head. “Something you wanna say to me?”

He smiles cunningly. “We need to question her. Tell her to get out.”

“We don’t need to question her right now,” CJ corrects him. “I’m sure Luke can relay what he saw. She’s probably too shaken up to talk to us.” Once the handcuffs are secure, he grabs Tyler by the shoulders and moves him against the wall, pushing with a firm hand to his chest. “Don’t fucking move.”

“How’d he break his wrist, Evans?”

I leer at Jacobs, and the self-important tone in his voice. “How the fuck do you think he broke his wrist? There was a struggle, asshole. He was trying to choke Tessa out when I got here, and I fucking acted. She’s Ben’s sister; or did you forget that tiny detail?”

He smiles, showing the teeth I’d love to knock out more than anything right now, as he steps closer to me. “She also dumped your ass last summer, didn’t she?”

“Shut up, Jacobs,” CJ says, stepping in between us and preventing me from moving any closer, which I unknowingly had been doing. He motions with his head toward the floor. “Is that what he had on him?”

I follow his eyes and bend down, grabbing the small plastic baggie. “Yeah. He had pot, too. Tessa said he snorted a bunch of coke before he attacked her, so I’m sure you’ll find it when you run his panels.”

“Did she take any?” Jacobs asks, looking over my shoulder in the direction of the hallway.

My jaw ticks just below my ear. “No, she didn’t.”

“Maybe I should verify that myself.”

“Go ahead. I’ll let Ben know you’re testing his sister for drugs when I call him. I’m sure he’ll be really understanding about that.”

“All right,” CJ says, pressing a hand against my chest and backing me off. He looks over his shoulder and nods toward Tyler, who is barely standing up. “Get him out of here. I’ll be down in a minute.”

After staring me down for several seconds, Jacobs moves and grabs Tyler, pulling him off the wall. “Let’s go.”

When he steps out, I sit on the arm of the couch and grab my shoulder, wincing as I move it around.

“You need to go get checked out,” CJ says, looking up at me as he picks up the bag containing one marijuana cigarette that was left on the coffee table. He seals it up and puts it in his pocket, scanning the area one last time before he moves across from me.

“I’m fine. I’m just beat.”

“You sure she’s okay?” he asks, glancing behind me.

I nod, standing. “Yeah, she’s tough. You know Tessa. Shit rolls right off her back.”

In fact, I’m sure her recovery time from this will be a hell of a lot shorter than mine. She’s practically immune to anything that would normally trigger an emotional breakdown in people.

He laughs, smiling in agreement. “All right, man. Take it easy.”

I shove the door closed behind him, hearing it crackle as it latches into the splinted doorframe, and drop my head against the wood. My body feels heavy, as if my bones have been hollowed out and filled with cement. The corner of my mouth tastes metallic, the dried blood re-liquefying with the wetness of my tongue. My shoulder burns, and my right hand doesn’t seem to flex as well as it should, but these injuries are nothing compared to the discomfort throbbing where the weakest part of me lies.

Seriously? My heart couldn’t stay out of this shit?

Strike three.

I run my fingers over the sensitive skin of my neck while the water beats down on my head. The slightest bit of pressure has me sucking in a breath, but I do it anyway, probing until I’m on the brink of crying out. Then I ease off a bit, wait a few seconds, and press down again.

At this point, I deserve to feel the pain.