Chapter 2

"Fuck!" I yelled, unhooking the security chain and throwing the door wide open.

My neighbor, the cop, who was in a pair of basketball shorts and nothing else, was sitting on top of the guy who just seconds ago was talking to me through my door. Now, though? Now, Sideburns was out cold. Anyone would be after being tackled by two hundred plus pounds of steel. Said man of steel was currently calling in to dispatch about being "on-scene" and reporting a "10-12". The dispatcher responded that a unit was on its way.

"Alcide Herveaux! How the hell does 'stranger at door' look like 'tackle stranger and knock his ass out'?"

He fumbled in his pockets and replied, "Dude. Your smokin hot ex, who lives by her goddamn self, texts you in the middle of the night that some mofo's creepin outside her house, you don't fuckin think. You react." Pulling out a pair of handcuffs, he grabbed the guy's hands, placed them behind his back and cuffed him. "He's lucky I didn't shoot his ass."

I glanced at Sideburns; he looked kind of familiar. "I'm sure the NYPD must be so proud that one of their finest likes to shoot first and ask questions later."

"What did I just say?" Alcide asked gruffly before patting down the guy. He found a wallet and a set of keys. Flipping through the wallet's contents, he pulled out a New York State driver's license and read, "Compton William T, 66 East 60th Street Staten Island NY 10313, DOB: 11-20-68, SEX: Male, EYES: BR, HT: 5-10" he flipped the license around, "Not an organ donor, why am I not surprised?"

I rolled my eyes and squatted to get a better look at the unconscious man. Where the hell have I seen him before? "That doesn't mean shit 'cause neither am I." I looked up and waggled my eyebrows at Alcide, "And don't think I forgot; you still think I'm smokin hot. I am soo gonna tell Debs."

Alcide's shoulders slumped, and he whined, "Aww common, don't be a shit stirrer. You know she's mad insecure already what with the pregnancy and all."

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Then maybe you should've thought of that before professing your undying love for me."

"Oh please, I'd hardly call making an observation a profession of love-" His eyes flitted to my side before settling back on me. "Debs' the only girl I've ever, and will ever, love. There's no one as beautiful or as kind and nurturing as her. Her smile brightens up my nights and her tears darken my days. I dread the day she realizes how undeserving I am of her, and I pray to every saint I know, thanking them for the gift that is our wonderful and peaceful marriage. I. Love. Debbie."

He reached inside the inner pocket of the man's jacket and pulled out a black mini wallet.

"Bingo," he said, unzipping the wallet and revealing about half a dozen lock picks on each side.

"Mother fucker." I muttered. Up until then, I still held out hope that William was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. This just proved you really couldn't trust anybody in New York. Especially not the strange men who tried to break into your house.

I glanced to my right and saw Debbie Pelt Herveaux in all her nine and a half months pregnant glory. Her arms were folded under her massive, and extremely uncomfortable looking, breasts and her slippered feet looked swollen as hell too. Her eyes shot daggers at her husband of two and a half years, and her lips were pursed into a thin, straight line.

Ruh roh.

"Hey Debs, sorry if I woke you." I said, standing slowly.

"Don't you dare apologize for being smart and keeping yourself safe. I'd have done the same if I was in your position." She pointed her chin at her husband, "it's this jerkoff who owes me an apology."

"Me?! What'd I do?!" He asked, eyes wide with a terrified expression on his face.

It was hilarious. He was over six feet tall, built like a linebacker and fought crime for a living. And was scared shitless of a pregnant woman in a robe and fuzzy pink slippers.

"Oh, you know what you did! I purposely left a piece of cheesecake out for when I got hungry in the middle of the night. And what did your selfish, greedy ass do? YOU ATE IT!"

Alcide stood and walked over to her, hands out in supplication. "Baby, there's a whole cake in the fridge. You know I'd never leave you hungry."

"I didn't want cold cheesecake, I wanted the soft and warm piece I left out!"

"Wait, hold up." I said, one hand up, the other on my hip. "You tellin me that you stopped to eat cake before coming over to see if I was being raped and murdered?!"

Debbie swatted then yelled at him about being a shitty friend and I bitched him out for leaving me to rot while he ate his cake. His head swung back and forth between the two of us. Oh yeah, it sucked to be Alcide.

"Unghh..."

We all stopped to look down at the burglar who we'd all but forgotten about. Alcide, ever the competent cop, dropped one knee onto the guy's back and barked, "Don't fucking move. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."

He continued with the creep's Miranda Rights but I tuned him out. It really bugged me that I couldn't remember where I'd seen the man before. Did he target me specifically or was it just a coincidence that he ended up in front of my house? And why ring the bell if he had a lock pick set to begin with? It just didn't make any sense.

Alcide finished Mirandizing him just as a squad car pulled up. Sometimes it was good to live so close to the precinct. Other times, like when drove down my block blasting their sirens in the middle of the night during finals week, not so much.

I didn't recognize either of the cops that got out of the car but they obviously knew Alcide and Debbie. After they exchanged quick pleasantries with Debs, Alcide filled them in on his discoveries. Then, they said their good nights to the Herveauxs and nodded at me. Since it was

late, and Alcide insisted on it, my statement was postponed for the next day. Officers Jones and Pryor hauled William T Compton up effortlessly and more of less dragged him down the stairs before throwing him into their squad car.

By the time the cops left, half of my block had woken up and were gathered outside my house. Debbie was smart to slip back into her house when she had the chance. I really hated nosy neighbors but, I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and answered their questions as best as I could.

No, he didn't break in.

Yes, I was home alone. Again.

No, I didn't know him.

Yes, I was fine.

Yes, it was Alcide who came to my rescue.

Yes, I was still single.

No, I didn't want to meet any of their friends, male relatives, or coworkers.

And on and on it went. By the time I finally made my way back upstairs, I was so exhausted that I passed out the second my head hit the pillow.

I woke to chaos.

My house phone that I didn't even think anyone had the number to was ringing off the hook, my alarm was blaring that obnoxious garbage truck backing up sound, my cellphone was screaming that it was SEXY AND IT fucking KNEW IT, and some mother fucker was leaning on my doorbell. First things first, I rolled over to the side of my bed and slapped the snooze button on my alarm clock. Cracking open one eyelid, I did a quick sweep for the closest offender. No cell phone in sight but LMFAO was still wiggle wiggle wiggling away loudly somewhere in the room. Then I remembered slipping it into my pajama pant pocket last night and did another sweep. It was by my bedroom door and vibrating like my Hitachi Magic Wand was under it instead of a cellphone - I didn't know how I managed to miss it.

I climbed out of bed and staggered over to my pajama bottoms. I grabbed my cell, glanced at the display, Gran calling, and answered. "Mor-" wow, I sounded Marge Simpson. I cleared my throat and tried again, "Morning Gran."

Slipping into the discarded pants, I threw a thin cardigan on over my tank top, and made my way downstairs.

"Don't you 'Morning Gran' me, Sookie Stackhouse. I had to find out my only granddaughter was almost murdered on the television!"

I almost missed a step and broke my ass falling down the stairs. "Wha-what?!" I gasped, grabbing the handrail.

"Sookie, open the door!" A man's voice yelled over the doorbell and my screeching house phone. He sounded suspiciously like my brother, which made absolutely no sense; Jason was hours away in DC.

"It's all over the news!" Gran exclaimed hysterically.

The house phone continued ringing and the asswhipe outside my door was still pounding away while also leaning on my goddamn doorbell.

"What is all over the news, Gran?" I asked, frantically.

Quickly unlocking the bolts, I unhooked the security chain and threw open the door to find my brother's stormy face staring down at me. Behind him stood dozens of reporters, photographers and camera men with their heavy equipment. Beyond them, row upon row of news vans double and triple parked in front of my house stretching down the entire block. The second the reporters realized my door had opened, they began pushing their way past each other to shove microphones, cell phones, digital recorders, and cameras in my face.

The reporters bombarded me with questions shouted too quickly for me to even make out what was asked. The photographers took rapid fire shots of me that left me temporarily blinded, and I held my hand up to ward off the flashes.

Jason barreled his way through the sea of people who'd somehow managed to knock him off the front steps. After finally barging through the last two crowding the doorway, he quickly slammed the door shut and turned the locks. The doorbell began ringing almost immediately as fists began pounding angrily at my door.

Cell phone in my hand forgotten, I looked at my big brother with wide, terrified eyes and asked, "What, what's going on, Jase?"

Concern and worry written all over his face, my brother drew me into a hug and I felt my body begin to relax in increments. His hugs were magical and always managed to settle my nerves and ease my fears; they've been that way for as long as I could remember.

Hesitant to leave my cocoon of safety, but needing my questions answered, I sighed and pulled away from the hug.

Jason looked at me worriedly and lifted my chin up. After yanking it this way and that, and a thorough examination of my neck, something finally dawned on him. "You weren't attacked last night."

"What the fuck? Of course not!" I exclaimed. Then I heard a tinny voice yelling about washing my mouth out with soap and that's when I remembered the phone I was clutching in my left hand. "Gran! I'm so sorry, I forgot you were on the line. Can you hang on for just a sec? Wait. Here, talk to Jase while I deal with something real quick."

I handed my cell phone to my brother and ran to answer the house phone in the living room with Jason following suit.

Attacked last night? Was my life suddenly flipped on its ass because of William Compton? The thought made me red with fury as I angrily grabbed the blaring phone from its base.

"What?" I barked into the receiver.

"Hello, is this Ms. Sookie Stackhouse?" A woman responded.

"Who's askin?"

"This is Selah Pumphrey from the NY Post. I'd like to ask Ms. Stackhouse a few questions regarding her role in apprehending The Surgeon."

I covered the mouth piece and asked Jason, "The Post wants to know how I caught The Surgeon. The fuck is going on?"

Jason pointed his chin at the phone.

I nodded and muttered two words to Sheila Humpme or whatever the fuck her name was. "No comment," and slammed the phone back in its base.

It started ringing again almost immediately.

I needed as much peace and quiet as I could get for whatever was coming next, so I unplugged the phone. Then I ran back upstairs to my room and finally did what I should have done the moment I woke up; I yanked the fucking alarm clock's wire from the wall.

Oddly enough, that small act of aggression was enough to calm me down from my William Compton induced rage.

I glanced at my bed that was just screaming for me to climb back into, and climbed back down the stairs. My brother was leaning against the kitchen counter, fingers moving swiftly across his cell phone. He had just started a pot of coffee and I could hear the water boiling in the machine. I could've kissed him for that.

"You're still using this piece of shit?" He asked without looking up from whatever he was doing on his phone.

I yawned and took a seat at the island. "Don't hate on Mr Coffee, he gets the job done. That's all I ask for in a coffee maker and that's all I'll ever need."

He shook his head in disgust. "You don't know what you're missing."

My brother had become a coffee snob since my sister in law, Dawn, bought him one of those Keurig machines. I wasn't an idiot, I knew those K-cups tasted better than regular old Folgers but I'd rather save the money and splurge on something important. Like the pair of Alexander McQueen booties that I finally bit the bullet on and ordered a week ago as a reward for my acceptance into the senior fashion show. They were blue snakeskin booties and looked like motorcycle jackets for your feet. They were also one hundred percent bad ass and I couldn't wait to wear them out partying Saturday night.

That was a sobering thought. How long would it take for things to be normal again? Would I even be able to go in for my night shift at Merlotte's?

I cupped the mug of coffee with both hands and studied my brother. He must've left his house in a hurry because his shirt was inside out and he had a five o'clock shadow on his normally clean shaven face.

"You drove through the night?" I asked.

It was about a four hour drive from his place in DC to our home in Brooklyn. That meant he had to have hit the road around three in the morning. Things didn't add up. William Compton was in handcuffs around that time, there was no way news spread that quickly.

Jason was still leaning against the counter tapping away on his phone but looked up at that. "I caught a flight."

I nodded. That made more sense. "How are my nephews and nieces?"

His phone vibrated causing him to resume his busy typing. "Calvin's teething now, Crystal just had her first dance recital last week, and Corbett got suspended for punching a kid who pulled his sister's hair."

I chuckled at that. Corbett was secretly my favorite precisely because of how untamed he could get. His protective streak was just icing on the cake.

"Send me pics?"

My brother and his wife were crazy vigilant about keeping their kids' pictures off the internet. "You never know who's looking at them", they said. I thought it was a little overprotective but whatever; not my kids, not my business.

"Yeah, Dawn's already got your set printed. It should be in your mailbox by Monday." He finished doing whatever he was doing and slipped his phone in his pocket. "Alright, enough stalling. What the fuck happened last night?"

I stretched my legs and told him everything.

My brother looked thoughtful for a minute before saying, "Alcide's a good man."

I nodded, because there was nothing to add to that. Jason knew him for as long as I did. The only time my brother didn't like him was when Alcide and I dated briefly in high school. I was a freshman, he was a junior and Jason was pissed the fuck off. It was completely innocent; Alcide was truly a good guy - even then. We made out a lot and there might've been some light petting, but honest to God, that was all we did.

I didn't lose my virginity until prom night. Fucking cliché, I know, but I didn't date anyone seriously enough to get that far. By the time I knew where I was going for college and realized the odds of me getting laid at FIT were next to nil, I panicked and decided to just get it over with. It was, undoubtedly, one of the dumbest things I'd ever done.

Hoyt, Maxine Fortenberry's grandson, was the nicest guy in the entire school. And for as long as I could remember, he'd had a thing for me. He was tall, which was a must since I was five-eight, and had a really sweet smile. I thought he'd be the perfect guy to guide me into womanhood.

Well, it turned out he was a virgin too.

The night started out great; he'd gotten us a hotel room near the banquet hall and managed to score some alcohol. We made out like horny teenagers in between shots of cheap tequila and after a lot of fumbling and nervous laughter, we finally got naked and made it to the bed. He must've gotten really worked up from all the kissing and groping because after spending five minutes trying to put on a condom, he barely made it inside me before finishing. Yup, not even a full thrust. I was disappointed but tried not to make a big deal about it. Hoyt, understandably, was mortified and to this day still avoids me like the plague.

That was the first and last penis I'd ever had in me.

Though not for my friends' lack of trying. I'd been forced on everything from blind dates, speed dates, e-dates (hell, they'd have signed me up for J-date if I wasn't a gentile), but things just never progressed past a dinner or two. I had a short term goal, and men just weren't a priority. I was too focused on bettering myself to want to contribute time or effort into any semblance of a committed relationship. I also didn't want a fuck buddy or casual fling - if the experience with Hoyt taught me anything at all, it was that sex was overrated and not worth the headache. Besides, my Bag o' Vibes (an old satin pillowcase I'd sewn a drawstring to) contained plenty of goodies I've amassed over the years.

"You got fuckin' lucky." My brother said, snapping me out of my musings.

I tried to remember what we were talking about but floundered.

Thankfully, he continued, "Drew Marshall aka René Lenier, Victor Madden, Lochlan Neave and, most recently, William T Compton, was involved in a string of violent home invasions that went as far back as ten years ago. He scopes out his victims, all young and pretty waitresses, for weeks until he catches them alone at their homes. His M.O. is the same every time; rings their doorbells in the middle of the night and asks for help. He gets a sick buzz from speaking to his victims beforehand and luring them into a false sense of security when he leaves them unharmed. Then he sneaks back into their homes after they're asleep and injects a muscle relaxant into their bloodstream. They're awake and feel every sensation when he cuts them open and removes their uteri."

My hands flew to my mouth. "Did any of the women survive?"

"Most of them. Fucker calls 911 after he's done. The only casualty died of infections."

"How, how did they find out that he's the same guy?"

Jason cracked his neck. That was his tell that he was close to ripping someone's head off; usually someone who'd hurt me In some way. "His fingerprints. They also found a doctor's bag in his car five blocks away and two syringes of his drug of choice."

He walked over to me and pulled me into a hug. "Hey, hey, it's alright now Chipmunk." He said, stroking my hair.

I didn't realize how much I needed my big brother's comfort until then. Growing up without our parents, Jason took it upon himself to be both parent and sibling to me. Since he was thirteen years older, I idolized him and obeyed him without issue. His move out to DC was hard on me, but I understood it was something he had to do. He never talked about it, but I suspected he was working for the government either in the White House or at the CIA.

"I'm sorry for worrying everyone and for keeping you away from your work." I needed to call Gran back and let her know everything was alright.

"Don't worry about it. I should be the one apologizing - I never should've left you here by yourself. Mom and dad would-"

"Stop that shit. I'm a grown ass woman, I don't need my brother bending over backwards to accommodate me. You have your own family now and I'm no longer your responsibility, hell I never should've been your responsibility to begin with. Mom and dad would understand that and I know they're fucking proud of you for everything you've accomplished."

He shook his head, "you'll always be my family. And I'm moving back to New York by the end of June. We all are."

I gasped and then punched him in the arm. "What? No! Don't you fucking dare!"

Jason shrugged, "Too late. Dawn's already shopping for houses and Gran's already started packing."

"No, no, no, no, no... Don't uproot your entire life because some jack ass rang my bell in the middle of the night!"

"Sook, this isn't up for debate. You're my only sister and it'd have killed me if something happened to you."

"Corbett and Crystal already started school and all of the kids have friends!"

"Corbett hates the kids in his school, he calls them pussies." I swatted my brother for that. My nephew might've been a bad ass six year old, but he didn't curse. Or at least I didn't think so; I hadn't seen him since Christmas. "Crystal loves her aunt Sookie and Brooklyn pizza too much to care about her little dance troupe or school. Calvin doesn't remember he has to wear clothes half the time, much less his play dates at the park. Anything else?" He asked with a challenging lilt.

"There are no CIA offices in New York and it's not like they can just move the White House here either. How the hell are you gonna get to work?"

He grinned, "nice try,"

I groaned. "I'm serious. What are you gonna do about your job?"

Jason hesitated. "I'm taking another position at the company. It's more hands on, which is what I've always wanted, and I get more more freedom in my hours."

I took a sip of the lukewarm coffee and tried to suppress my glee. "Yeah? You're not just making shit up to placate me?"

"Dead ass serious. No lie."

Finally, the grin that I was holding back blossomed across my face and stretched my cheeks until they hurt. "Welcome home, bro."

"Never should've left." He grumbled.

While I called Gran back and spoke to her and Dawn to let them know I really was alright, Jason stepped outside to speak to the reporters. Apparently, he was drafting a press release with someone in the D.A.'s office the whole time he was on his phone. He said, hopefully it'd be enough to keep most of them off my ass but he warned me that I'd probably still get hounded for a while; everyone liked a story where the underdog wins, especially if she was a pretty blonde who out smarted a man wanted in over seven states.

After speaking to my family, I called my boss and told him I'd be unavailable to work that night and it that was unlikely to change in the foreseeable future. He was understanding of my plight but told me to go in anyway since I'd be giving his diner free publicity. I told him to fuck off and place an ad in the Daily News instead of being a cheap ass piece of shit.

Needless to say, I was fired.

Whatever, Merlotte's was where my troubles started and I knew I wouldn't miss it one bit; especially Sam Merlotte, my skeezy boss. Dude was about fifteen years older than all of the waitresses and was about one comment away from catching a class action sexual harassment suit.

My brother went with me to the police station to record my official statement. He cracked his neck the entire time we were there and gave every cop the stink eye. When I asked him about it later, he said someone from the precinct had to have leaked my info to the press. He said he was going to find out who, and I had a feeling the crooked cop's career was as good as over because one, my brother' sword was gold and two, you never fucked with his family.

The reporters seemed satisfied with the bone my brother threw them and cleared my yard by the time we got back from the precinct. Jason caught a flight back to DC later that afternoon and I promised to call him if anything happened in the interim. Everyone from Jade and her family to Lafayette and my FIT classmates to the second grade best friend, called me that day about the news. Apparently, if you weren't underage or sexually assaulted, your identity was fair game to the press.

Lafayette and I both agreed it was best to cancel our Saturday night club hop and opted to move the party to his apartment instead. Jade was coming back for the weekend and I was looking forward to spending some quality time with my two best friends in the comfort of Laf's home.

As I got ready for bed that night, I turned on the tv looking for news coverage of the case. It was the topic du jour for every major news outlet. I was lauded as a quick thinking Brooklynite, a modern day Joan of Arc, a heroine, but my favorite was the one where someone they interviewed said I was just a dumb blonde who was lucky her neighbor was a cop. I might not have agreed with the dumb part of the assessment, but everything else about that statement was true. I might've been just another number on his list of victims if I didn't have help.

The thought sent shivers down my spine and I slept fretfully that night even though I was exhausted and running on fumes. Finally, I focused my thoughts on the runway show and how proud my parents would've been if they were still alive. I worried about my lack of income and made another mental note to look for a roommate. I thought about my future in fashion now that graduation was only weeks away and felt slight trepidation, but mostly optimism and excitement. I pictured my future in ten years and for the first time since I knew I wanted to become a designer, I saw a man and children in it. That gave me pause. Did I want a husband and children? If they didn't interfere with my plans of running my own company. I didn't see how that was possible so I shrugged off the image for what it was, a silly impractical dream and fell asleep with thoughts of being at the helm of my own fashion empire - now that, I could believe.

A/N: thanks for reading!

And I just wanted to ask, where the fuck is the plane?!