I had hardly made it to the stairs when I heard Bosco's voice booming an offended "What?!" from outside. Honestly, though, I'd slowed my pace the moment I stepped inside the door to his apartment complex. I knew he'd rush after me, like he always did when I left him chewing over some unreasonable sentence I'd given him. And I guess a pretty big part of me didn't want to walk up the stairs alone. There was an end-of-winter-almost-spring sun ray shining through the windows along the stairwell, but they were few and far between. I glanced up at the couple flights I'd have to climb to reach his apartment, and there were areas where darkness just enveloped it. It freaked me out beyond words. But I think what scared me more than just…well...being afraid to begin with, was the sense of security I'd lost after everything that had happened. More specifically, the security that was stolen from me. I'd lost any feeling of braveness and strength; the most innocent of shadows…just made my throat lock up, and my hands quiver.
How was I even supposed to be a cop if I couldn't even walk up the stairs to an apartment?
Bosco's voice was still thundering, though I could barely make out the collage of muddled words as they trailed rather recklessly from his mouth. Typical. Shaking my head, I turned and pushed off the banister, making my way outside.
Instead of my predetermined image of some civilian having accidentally touched his 'stang the wrong way, he was actually sharing some heated words with none other than our best friend, Cruz. I struggled just to keep the bile from rising from my throat as the skinny bitch rounded her car and stepped toward Bosco, her narrow little witch fingers pointed accusingly at him. Manny wasn't far behind; her cute little puppy dog, too terrified to fall out of step. When it came down to it, though, Manny was a good guy. And an excellent cop, I knew. As far as I was concerned, he was just another victim of her calculated wrath, just like Bosco had been years prior. The only difference, it seemed, was that he didn't have a former partner that got screwed over by the whole parade.
You could say my anger had rose considerably against her in the past couple hours, naturally I was consumed with worry in the whole her-being-arrested deal. She could ruin Bosco's life in one damned sentence. And I knew she'd enjoy every minute of it. At the moment, though, it was her god damned mouth that was irritating the hell out of me.
For once, I just wanted Bosco to slap her in face.
Speaking of him, he was edging closer to her just as she closed in as well, her bony hand tilted rudely in his face. I was still unsure what was going on, but anyone could've guessed she'd instigated it.
"Then why is the Lieutenant calling me back to the House in the middle of my shift, Bosco?!" I heard Cruz screech. Her voice was high and ear piercing, as usual. Wasn't she used to her superiors calling her in? Hadn't she been in enough trouble before? Then again, she never acknowledged the fact that she had any superiors.
I couldn't make out Bosco's response, because he muttered it lowly through gritted teeth.
He must've finally noticed me coming up beside him, because he glanced back momentarily. He looked exhausted, but his gorgeous azure eyes were flaring with rage. They looked much like a sea that had been jostled into a hurricane and were wild with angry waves. I widened my own eyes as if to asked what the hell was going on, but he'd already turned back to face the fiend.
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I'd hardly gotten a word in edge-wise when she made her way toward me. We could've set a record for the most explosive pair of people on the planet. She hadn't even closed the door to the passenger side of the car before we were spitting vulgar phrases at one another, our voices raised and our lungs nearly giving way under the strain. I don't supposed it aided the situation, me having asked her "What do you want?!" the second she emerged. However, it had been completely uncalled for when she'd glared back at me before calmly stating, "I'm here to talk to Yokas. The one that got us into this ordeal."
Faith? She got us into this? Into what? It was that comment that had really gotten the best of my temper.
I could feel Faith standing behind me, and I stopped to take a second and look over at her. Her face was ridden with concern and confusion, but most of all, with anger. She glanced at me questioningly, begging for some sort of answer, but I was deterred by the hot breath I felt on my face. Cruz was way to close for comfort and biting out a dozen sentences scrawled into one incoherent phrase. I never felt a stronger urge to knock somebody out than I did at that moment, but there was a certain bull dog standing guard not too far away, his dark eyes focused more on me than his verbally abusive partner.
So I refrained.
Cruz finally stopped yelling when she noticed Faith's figure lingering behind me. She flashed her fiery eyes to mine once more, before, thankfully, taking a step back. "Yokas," she started. "Can we talk? Just you and me." Again she shot me a look of warning, which I hardly acknowledged. Instead, I rocked back and forth impatiently on my heel, drowning in a deluge of uncontainable emotions.
Faith was silent, though I think partly because she was trying to keep herself from vomiting all over the pavement. Cruz had painted on a shockingly fraud smile – so insincere it more resembled a sneer – and it was sickening enough to make anyone lose their lunch – hell, breakfast and dinner for that matter.
Angered by her intrusiveness, I pushed her back by her shoulder and she toppled backward acutely, just barely keeping herself stable.
"Don't touch me!" she spat, with the venomousness of a viper. "I wasn't talking to you."
I saw Manny out of the corner of my eye, making his way hurriedly toward his Sergeant. I raised my head and met his gaze, both of our expressions those of warning. "Santiago," I stated firmly, yanking my hand back as Cruz roughly shook it off her shoulder. I held it up in a stop-sign like signal before him. "Don't."
I think he was actually grateful to have someone tell him he didn't have to back up the unworthy bitch. And satisfied when he stopped in his tracks, I turned back to Cruz.
"Touch you?" I shrieked, laughing bitterly. "Touch you? I'll kill you! You're not talking to her, ever!"
"Right, Bosco," she told me, locking our eyes. She tilted back on her foot, standing idle. Her voice was lower now, in fact, it was probably hardly audible to Faith as she stood behind me. "You probably would kill me, wouldn't you? Someone becomes a problem, so then you just kill them, right? That's your solution, isn't it? They piss you off, you kill them. But I'm not gonna take the hit, this time, Bosco. I am tired of going down for everybody else."
"I don't need your help, anymore, Maritza," I told her calmly, trying to ignore her stinging words as I processed them. "We don't need your help," I continued, passing my hand through the air dismissively. "So the get the hell away from us."
"Oh, but you will, Bosco. Just like you always do."
She backed away toward the car, waving to Manny to signal she was finished. Thinking she was gone, at least for the time being, I turned back to Faith whose features were staid and blank, her face a ghostly white. Apparently, she had heard every word.
"Faith," I began, not quite sure what I was going to say. Cruz interceded once again, however, marching back toward me, wielding a familiar object in her hand.
"I was tired of carrying this around," she announced sarcastically. "Thought you might want it." With that, she flung the object onto the pavement by my feet and stomped away. I stared down at my former baton as it bounced and clanged loudly a couple times before coming to a halt.
I looked up as Cruz reached the car, Manny in tow. He looked extremely confused, and I doubted he knew much about the situation. I could just picture him trying to wheedle the truth out of Cruz, only to be, in return, told to shut the fuck up.
He took off just seconds after sliding into the driver's seat, thrusting the dark vehicle down the street and into the distance.
"Bosco…" I heard Faith whisper. She inched from behind me, joining me at my side. I'd nearly forgotten she was even there, since she'd hardly said a word during the whole scene. She had to have gained some serious willpower, because she never, ever took shit from Cruz. I think at this point, she was just tired. Of everything. And I could relate.
I turned to meet her gaze, and realized she was peering straight down at the weapon as it lay still by my feet. It was difficult to see clearly, but if you looked at it in just the right light, you could make out the caked blood that coated almost a hundred percent of it. It was a sight that almost instantly took me back to that night, and I shivered, trying to deter my mind from taking that route.
Cruz's words flooded back to me, too.
Someone becomes a problem, then you just kill them, right? That's your solution, isn't it? They piss you off, you kill them.
Her words shouldn't have hit me so hard, but they did. They shouldn't have gotten to me, but they did. Again, I shivered, despite that the temperature was far from cold. Each time, it seemed I shook myself harder and harder. Like I was trying to shake myself out of my skin. I felt myself writhing beneath it as I turned to face Faith again.
Her hand was clasped over her mouth as she trailed her eyes from the ground to meet my stare. Her pretty blue-green eyes looked scared, and were red from crying. I had no words to offer her, nothing to reassure or console her. I was too busy trying to escape my own body and escape the unrelenting feeling that had consumed me the second I went back to that alley on 42nd….
The feeling of being a murderer.
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There were few words to describe the rage racing through me as Manny and I sped away from 82nd. I was infused with anger and my heart was racing so fast, I tapped nervously on the inside of the door just to keep from exploding, and my gaze far from his.
I knew it wouldn't be long before he'd inquire to know what he had just witnessed, what I was keeping from him, and how he 'couldn't be my partner if there's gonna be secrets between us'. How I felt like puking when he pulled that line on me. Just like Bosco, he was too fucking caught up in the relationship instead of the job. So I longed for that, but I'd never found myself able to sustain it…I'd never find any worth in trying and failing.
I guess that's why I appeared to be an acid-spitting monster to everyone else. I wondered why Manny stuck by me…why he supported me through all the shit I gave him.
"You wanna tell me what that was about, Sarge?"
Perfect timing, partner.
"Not really."
From the corner of my eye I could see him nodding at my abrupt reply. That was normal, too. Now he was going to give my volatile self a minute or two of New York scenery, some more time to rap my fingers on the door, and then he'd try for it a second time.
He was like the cat that you throw off the dinner table: Just time enough for you to take a second bite, before he's back up there again.
"Sarge, I just—"
He hadn't nearly waited long enough. I was shaking like a volcano.
"Manny, would you just shut the hell up, please?!" I'd taken my eyes off the road to glare at him, who was so accustomed to my screaming that he hardly flinched as he turned the corner.
I shifted my stare again, having begun twirling my hair in another nervous activity for my hands. Guilt was pouring over me in sheets. "Manny…." I started, my tone as apologetic as someone so abrasive could possibly make it. "I…"
"Forget it, Sarge," he said, shrugging. He sounded hurt, but I was sure he was used to that too. Again, I had to inwardly question why he hadn't long-since requested a different partner. What on earth did he possibly see in me?
"No," I interrupted. I turned and looked in his direction as he took his eyes off the road for a second to look back at me. "You know about that cop from 38th?"
"Yeah," he acknowledged. "What was his name…uh…"
"Walker. Mathew Walker." I announced, lowering my voice as I finished informing him of the name.
"That's right, Walker. Heard... but, uh, I didn't know him very well."
"Yeah…" I trailed off, taking my eyes off his. It was too intimidating. There was no way I could keep going with his mysterious gaze directly on me.
"What about him?" he prompted after I went silent. His voice was full of concern…maybe even suspicion. But was it really that odd to bring up a cop who had recently been murdered? Especially one that uniforms from our shift knew? Unless of course, he was already linking it somehow with my recent outburst.
If so, he was way too smart for me. Much smarter than Bosco had ever been.
I glanced back him once more and took a deep breath, as he looked at me expectantly. We'd come to a red light, so he was now able to devote his soulful Labrador-like eyes to staring me down for an answer.
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Bosco collapsed onto his couch shortly after we entered his apartment, and was quick to request a beer. He'd been silent on the way up the stairs, and I'd made certain to stay almost flush with him to avoid those shadows that made the hair on my neck stand up. When we'd come in, however, he immediately went off with his opinions on Cruz, exclaiming how completely uncalled for it had been for her to show up unannounced, spitting and screaming at him because Lieu had wanted to talk to her.
As if that were his fault, or something.
I retreated from the kitchen, clutching his frosty bottle, and I watched him let his baton slip from his hand and onto the carpet. He thanked me and took the bottle from my outstretched hand. I could see through the façade of anger and the venting, and I could see Cruz's words just tearing away him inside. They weren't supposed to have any worth, or meaning, coming from her and all, but what she said…I don't think it would've mattered who had spoken them. They'd even rattled me.
There was something about the way Cruz had looked at me, though, that made me think she hadn't driven over here to see if Bosco was behind the reason Lieu wanted to talk to her. Or more specifically, had called her in from the shift. Her smile had been total fraud…in fact, I don't think she even owned a genuine one, but her eyes were pleading with me to talk to her, and they had looked desperate.
The baton was still on the floor near Bosco's feet. It made me uncomfortable to see it laying there in plain view…its normally-shiny black exterior dulled from the excessive residue of blood. It was chipped and silvered in too many places from where the black coating had chipped away, and from violent striking it was dented. I shivered.
"Boz," I suggested, my voice cracking. "Don't you think you should…"
"Hide it?" he finished, between sips of his beer. I nodded and he simply shrugged, looking at me, his eyes wild with confusion and despair. He laughed bitterly. "Why bother? When Lieu tells Cruz the feds are comin' to take her to Rikers for a second time, she's gonna drive twice as fast to get there at the end of the shift, just so she can screw me over."
He eyed me and shrugged again as if I'd asked the dumbest question in world and then patted the cushion beside him, indicating for me to join him. I stayed planted firmly a few feet away, though, too disturbed by his voice and the tone of his bitter laughing. It was as if he'd completely given up.
"I…uh…I'm gonna go call the kids," I lied, taking a few steps backward. "I haven't talked to Emily or Charlie for like a week and I still don't see them for another, so…"
He nodded sharply, pushing himself off the furniture and to his feet, nearly tripping over the baton. In frustration, he kicked it violently until it was poorly concealed beneath the couch, and then he turned to meet my stare with an acidic smile on his face. "There," he declared. "I hid it. Now, I'm goin' to sleep."
He stumbled toward his room, still cackling sarcastically. "Anyone comes for me, tell them they're gonna hafta take me in my sleep, 'cause I'm not gettin' up for shit." He turned one last time and outstretched his hands, putting them side-by-side as if they were in cuffs, and then back into his room and slammed the door.
I shivered again, my eyes glazed over as I watched the whole scene unfold, then proceeded to dig my cell phone from my jacket. I pressed the number gingerly – one I was still quite surprised I remembered, when the person it reached was someone I vowed to forget.
It rang steadily, and I backed as far as I could into the kitchen, hoping I was far enough out of Bosco's earshot. Then again, he was probably still laughing pitifully at his life and the current state of affairs, and wouldn't hear me anyway.
When the voice finally answered, I jumped back a bit, then took a deep breath.
"Cruz," I acknowledged, hearing my words failing already. "It's Yokas."