Brawler (30 page)

So that’s what we do. It takes him all of thirty seconds to install the app, another ten minutes to get me to Lafayette Coney, and five minutes after that to make his truck into a mini picnic for us. I’d also like to mention for every chili fry ingested, he rubs my belly. For every gulp of pop, he rubs my belly. When he drops me off in front of the lab, he gets out to open my door, helps me down, and walks me up to the door, all while rubbing my belly.

If I wasn’t so worried about my tits going to pot, I may just consider staying pregnant forever. A girl could get used to this kind of contact. Especially when she’s never had it before, and mostly because being loved is the best feeling ever.

I
had to force myself to pull away from the lab. Watching her walk her sexy graceful walk had my jeans tighter than usual. Her walk was always sexy, but now? Knowing what’s happening inside of her? Even sexier.

A quick stop at the toy store I picked up a bear for her. I don’t know why, but it just seems like a good idea. Now it’s sitting on her seat patiently waiting for her to pick it up. Heading to the station, I remind myself to be grateful for all I’ve got. I was never one to notice much before, never really had shit to notice, but now I’ve got so much shit to be happy about it’s almost too much. Can a person be too happy?

Driving past the Ford dealership I see an advertisement for an SUV. I’m thinking it may be time to get something more family friendly. Right now, Macy relies on public transportation because it’s cheap and efficient, but it isn’t safe, and ain’t no way my wife and kid are riding on a fucking Smart Bus.

Logging that away for later, I park, head up, and stop at the Captain’s office wanting to touch base.

Knocking on the Cap’s door and not getting a response I open it anyway and see it’s empty. Walking in and taking a seat I decide to wait, but not before I can stop myself from looking at the photos of Venessa and Macy when they were kids. Even then those two were inseparable, and both going through their awkward stages, but beautiful just the same. You also can’t help but notice Macy was guarded even then. My woman never knew much about happiness.

Sitting back down, my phone chirps, and it’s not a signal I’m familiar with, so I open it up and see Macy is talking. I’ll be damned, this app is wicked. It recognizes her voice and alerts me to it so I can listen. Moral dilemma: do I put it back in my pocket, or do I listen in despite my promise?

I am just getting ready to tuck it away when I hear Ben’s voice. Logic and promises forgotten, I put that fucking phone to my ear and I listened. Rogan would be giving me an “I told you so” scowl if he could see how far the mighty have fallen.

 The first several minutes is pretty much shop talk. Smart people speak a language I’m not familiar with, so I tune out as much as possible. Yes it bothers me he not only understands her but keeps her engaged, but what bothers me most is that I’ll never be on her level when it comes to brains.

Just when I think they couldn’t get any smarter he changes the subject and I listen harder. “So you and the cop? How’s that working out?” he asks her.

“Great, actually,” she says. “I’m living with him now.”

“Is that right?” he says. “A little soon, don’t you think?”

“Not at all. We’ve been dancing around each other for months and the opportunity presented itself to be closer to him, so I took it,” she says with a smile in her voice, and I like that a lot.

“I see,” he says. “I suppose that explains why you’re hardly here anymore.”

“Ben,” she says sadly. “Whether or not you’re truly happy for me matters little. You and I are friends, nothing more, but I feel like the reason you aren’t happy for me is because I’m helping you less. Because, Ben, my research is still being completed; yours isn’t.”

“Wow,” he says, and I can hear his stool moving back. “That’s what you think? That I couldn’t possibly want you for you? That I just want you for your expertise? You don’t know what I want, Macy. You don’t know because you’re too busy chasing cops around and getting fucked over to see what’s been in front of you. How long until this one puts his hands on you, huh? How long until you show up, sitting across from me covered in his marks this time? Macy, what are you thinking?”

Running to my truck, driving back to the lab to beat Ben’s ass, I throw it in drive with my phone glued to my ear.

“I love him, Ben,” she whispers.

“That isn’t possible!”

“Love is a lot of things, and possible is one of them. He taught me that.”

“Yeah? Wasn’t he the reason I had to take you to the MGM? Did you even care I stayed in that shithole watching the door in case you left? In case you needed help?”

“I’m being honest with you as a courtesy, Ben. I don’t owe you an explanation, but I’m sharing this with you because of our friendship.”

“I can’t do this with you anymore,” he says. “Watching you set yourself up for misery over and over again. I haven’t even looked at another woman in two years because they weren’t you. You are so smart and have so much promise to throw it away on that guy. You deserve better than that, Macy.”

“Ben,” she says. “I’m pregnant.”

“What!” he yells. “Jesus, Macy, tell me you’re joking.”

“We’re getting married.”

“You don’t see what he’s doing? He’s trapping you. You’ll never finish now, not with a kid and a husband who’s never around to take care of you. Forget it,” he says packing up. “I’m out of here.”

I hear the door slam, then I hear Macy sigh and mutter “That went well,” and then all is quiet. Seconds later, I get a text from Macy asking for a pickup in an hour, that she’s just finishing up. As much as I want to barge in there and hold her, I do as she asks and settle for getting gas and carryout for later.

I text her back an “Okay,” and despite my gut screaming at me to go there anyway, I don’t. But goddammit, I should have.

B
en storming out leaves me feeling sort of numb. I text Jonas asking for an hour. I didn’t want to throw this at him, so I want a few quiet moments to sort it all out. Was I upset with the things he had said? Sure. But I was being honest when I said his opinion, in the end, didn’t really matter, because it simply doesn’t. I’ve never set my baggage on his shoulders; he just wanted me to. Further, I suspect he didn’t like me calling him out, either. For two years, I have carried his weight. I’ve given him countless hours of guidance and support and asked for nothing in return. Jonas didn’t point that out to me; I already knew.

Anytime I had plans he had asked to join; because I assumed he didn’t have many friends, I usually agreed. But he was only a friend, so I didn’t put up a fuss. He pretended to have interest in my work when I suspect it was only to further his own, and now I’m getting married with a baby on the way, and my priorities have shifted. If he doesn’t like that, tough shit.

Speaking of marriage, Jonas asked me to pick a date. I need to grab my calendar and do that as soon as possible, not because of what he wants, but because it’s what we want. Suddenly warm, I decided to step outside of the building to get some air before he picks me up. Checking my phone I see more time had passed than I thought; he should be here in twenty minutes. Gathering my bag and laptop, I lock up, swipe my badge, sign out at reception, and wait by the curb.

Lost in thought, it takes me a moment to realize someone is addressing me. Well, no. make that several someones. What the fuck?

“Excuse me?” I say, wondering who these men are, and if they’re lost.

“You Macy Kowalski?”

“Who else would I be? Who the fuck are you?” I throw back.

“You get one warning,” he threatens, while the others nod. “You wanna keep that kid, you’ll hand over that shit in your head.”

So we’re back to that again, I see. I’m pissed, hungry, and missing Jonas, and I will not have thugs threatening me or my kid. Time to assert my dominance.

“So let’s just say I’m willing to share,” I begin. “Which one of you idiots will be bright enough to decipher it? Would you want it in Crayolas, gang signs, or would pictures work for you?”

One idiot laughs, not comprehending it was an insult, while the other two move in to circle me. Well, fuck that noise. Slowly reaching into my bag, I palm my tazer. Next one to crowd me goes down.

“Listen, bitch, hurting you is a last resort, but we will if we have to.”

“You’d hurt a pregnant woman for a cancer formula? Really? Try me, motherfucker.”

In silent agreement, they surround me. One grabs me and turns me, so I taze him in the neck. He goes down and I want to moonwalk my victory. Two grabs me, throwing me back a few feet, so I throw a right hook nicking his jaw enough to stun him while my tazer reloads. Three just stands there smiling. I realize three might be a problem.

Two comes at me again. Now fully charged, I zap him in the side and he crumbles, taking me with him. Three pulls me up with a weird look on his face, but before I can bother reading his intent I bring my knee up, connecting with his balls. Jumping away from the trio I start backing away quickly so I can call Jonas and get the fuck gone. Once my phone is out, I also take photos of the asshats on the ground, hoping it gives the guys something to work with.

Even while three is on the ground holding his balls he’s looking at me funny. What in the hell is the matter with this guy? He levels me with a look, so I back away further, and when he speaks all the hair on my body tingles.

“He was too easy with you,” he says, coughing. “He didn’t break you, but I will, bitch. Mark my words.”

“Fuck you,” I force out, but it sounds weak, even to me. He’s talking about Briggs. He knew him, and that scares the hell out of me.

“Stay away from me or I’ll kill you.” Looking up, he gives me that weird smile again, like he’s enjoying this. Backing away further, I promise myself to stay as far away from this guy as possible.

Suddenly I’m grabbed from behind and I fight like a woman possessed. Bag dropped, laptop forgotten, I give this asshole all I’ve got. It’s not until seconds later when I hear, “Princess, it’s me; I’ve got you,” that my legs gave out and I started to cry again.

R
arely have I been in a position to panic like this. The only other time was, of course, when that sick fuck took Macy from me. Being stuck in traffic, listening to my woman getting threatened, has me pushing other cars out of my way to get to her. Did she back down? No. She gave it right back, which was brave and stupid. Seeing them grab her, watching her drop each of them, I swear to god I aged twenty years. Last man down has her backing away and I see her reaching for her phone, and then I see her take pictures, but she doesn’t see or hear me approach. So when I grab her to let her know she’s safe, she goes nuts. Thrashing, cursing, and struggling to hold onto her. I’m able to get out, “Princess, it’s me. I’ve got you.”

The instant she knows she’s safe, the fight leaves her. Her legs give out. She starts to cry and holds on to me like her life depends on it. Looking over at the three who dared touch her, I debate finishing the job, but right now she needs me more. Watching the three take off on foot, I pick her up, carry her to my truck, buckle her in, and call Rogan.