SAILING INTO UNCHARTED WATERS
Chapter Fourteen
John drove to the precinct feeling utterly dejected. Lori had decided that the time was right to go back to work. Worse than that, she'd found the slip of paper in his jacket pocket and believed that he would take the lieutenant's position if offered to him.
Maybe if they hadn't lost the baby; maybe if they'd needed the money for a bigger place for their family...maybe…..
Maybe life was just one kick in the teeth after another.
The loss of their unborn child had been the reason why John knew that he couldn't take a desk job right now. Lori's anger and grief were fierce, often aimed in his direction, and it had taken all of his willpower to control his own short fuse when it came whatever argument they were having this time.
Couldn't she see that he was hurting just as much as she was? Even though Lori had been the one to carry their child, it didn't mean that it hurt him any less to lose it. Lori was devastated by the miscarriage, wrongly assuming that it was her fault, she didn't need her husband making her feel any worse – no matter how justified he might have been in fighting back at times.
All the pamphlets about miscarriage had told him that it was the man's job to be understanding and accommodating of their partner's change of moods and that they needed to support them to come to terms with the loss of the child.
Each time that Lori had gone on the attack, pushing his buttons and hitting him where she knew it hurt the most, he'd rarely reacted in kind to her explosive temper. Both of them were passionate people, it had been one of the things that made them so good together, but the fight had left his body when their baby died.
There had been so many times when it had been tempting to respond in kind to her verbal assaults. Other than a handful of blazing rows they'd had since the miscarriage, he'd decided that the best answer to Lori's vicious attacks was to remove himself from the situation entirely.
Those times that he'd left their apartment, he'd been seething with rage, yet unwilling to cause her any more pain than she was already in. Lori was his wife and he loved her, would never do anything to knowingly hurt her, and so he directed the pain and anger that he felt elsewhere:
Taking scum off of the streets.
Right now, taking criminals down was the only thing keeping him hanging on. He needed the distraction, the release of pent-up energy, to stop him from exploding completely. Bottling up his grief was getting harder and tussling with a perp had become an ideal way to relieve some of the pressure that was building from within.
Solving crimes and taking down perps was something that John could control. The power he felt when a perp was finally restrained and in handcuffs had become addictive. When everything else in his life was spiralling out of control, John knew that he could rely on the thrill of the job to keep him focused and on target. Landing a shot or two on a suspect resisting arrest had meant that he could return home to Lori and soak up whatever punishment she saw fit for him this time without fearing that he'd retaliate in kind.
He couldn't take the promotion. Not now.
Lori had promised that, once he'd gotten settled in his new role, that they would try for another baby, but what if she miscarried again?
He wasn't sure that he could get through the loss of this child, even with the distraction of being a street cop. How would he ever handle Lori if they lost another baby, especially when he'd be tied to a job he hated?
He'd end up resenting her, that or saying something vicious that he would never be able to take back. No, he couldn't risk it. If he took the desk job and things went south again, he knew their relationship would only end in divorce.
The thought of losing Lori stole his breath momentarily. Their marriage was strained to say the least. What they both needed was to understand where the other was coming from. If he had to be accommodating to her wants and needs, then Lori needed to be willing to do the same in return.
She'd be disappointed to find out that he wasn't taking the job but she'd understand why he felt as if he couldn't. Lori wasn't unreasonable, she'd see that his staying on the streets was the right choice for them at the moment.
Getting out of the car, John nodded at a pair of uniformed cops standing by their squad car, enjoying a quick shift break of coffee and a donuts.
"Hey, fellas," John nodded, passing the two men, wincing as he saw the look of sympathy on their faces.
The older and larger of the cops placed his coffee cup on the roof of the car and ambled over in his direction.
Please, no more sympathy. I don't need condolences, I just need to do my job!
"How you holding up, Kelly?"
He appreciated the concern, he really did, but he just wanted to get on and do his job. He didn't need reminding every two minutes that his wife had lost their child.
Keeping his expression neutral. John swallowed the annoyance he felt at the well-meaning concern.
"I'm doing ok. Just starting my shift. You guys on a double?"
It was a lame attempt at diverting the conversation, but it seemed to work as the younger cop called from the passenger door of the car, "Yeah, we gotta keep you suits busy somehow. Don't want you spending all day with your fingers up your asses, do we?"
He appreciated the banter - at least someone was treating him normally.
John gave the young cop a wan smile. "No, we leave the ass fingering to you guys. It's about all you numb-nuts are good for."
The young cop responded by smiling and giving John the middle finger as he walked toward the precinct building, but not before the older cop gave him a thump on the shoulder.
"You hang in there, Kelly. You and your wife will get through it, ok?"
Allowing his head to drop a fraction, John stared at his shoes, trying to gather his composure. If he was barely holding it together, how could he expect Lori to?
Sucking it up, John cracked a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Tell Franks to be careful. We wouldn't want him breaking a nail, would we?"
The uniformed cop laughed. "It'll go to his head; he'll think you actually give a shit about him."
"Of course I do," John replied, straight-faced. "Who else is gonna do the bagel run on a nightshift?"
"You're all heart, Kelly."
"That's not what your wife says," he shot back quickly. It was enough to make both men laugh. It felt good to get back into some of the easy banter he used to enjoy at work, instead of people treating him like he would snap at any minute.
"Yeah, she says your mouth is bigger than your dick. Go figure…." The cop looked at him with genuine concern, "Keep your chin up, kid. It'll get better."
John nodded his head briefly before heading for the squad room.
God, why did Marchetti's have to be so far away from the precinct!
It was the middle of winter, and he was getting too damn old to be pulling this kind of shit anymore. He had no idea who'd given him the tip off and right now, Andy didn't much care for the reasons why, he just wanted to nail that asswipe Giardella once and for all.
His first instinct had been to grab a car and speed down to the restaurant as fast as he could, but the noise and commotion that would generate would have tipped Giardellla off that he was on to him, giving the creep enough time to get away before Andy could get there.
Granted, his considerable weight and size didn't automatically lend itself to stealth, but the best option was to come unannounced and that meant walking the five blocks to Marchetti's.
At least it would give him time to cool off from his tete a tete with Emma. Who the hell did that stuck up, narcissistic broad think she was talking to him like that?
He'd met too many women like her, even having the misfortune to marry one. Why did women go around thinking that the world owed them one?
First that Costas broad and now Emma; what happened to the times when a woman respected a man and did as he said instead of arguing and infuriating them? Both women were a premium-grade pain in his ass. At least with a haemorrhoid you could treat it and it would go away – not like the women in his life at the moment….
Maybe the chill winter air would give him time to formulate some kind of plan when he finally arrived at the restaurant. Giardella was a coward and would hide behind a bunch of goons. He certainly wasn't stupid enough to come to a public restaurant without at least some kind of protection with him. Walking in with all guns blazing would only get him shot, especially going in alone.
Where the hell had John got to anyway?
He could really do with his partner's logical way of dealing with things right now. John had sharp instincts and more often than not would talk his wayward partner out of a kamikaze situation that could have put them both in danger.
Andy looked up briefly, watching as the snow began to fall once more. It had most definitely been a winter of discontent, but if he could just nail Giardella….things might not seem as bad as before.
He'd been royally pissed at what Emma had said, but maybe she had a point. What if others in the squad room were starting to notice that he was slipping off for a drink in the middle of a shift? John wasn't an idiot and the kid knew full well what his partner was doing, yet had never pulled him up on it.
He knew Fancy had it out for him, had from the start. Maybe it was the lieutenant's natural lack of tolerance to older cops like Andy, but Fancy had made it clear that he was less than impressed with the quality of his work.
While he couldn't really give two shits what Fancy thought of him, the notion that he would one day become a disgrace to the badge alarmed Andy. He was brash, old-school and definitely not the most tolerant of men, but Andy still had a respect for the badge and what it stood for. He was proud to serve in the NYPD.
He might not have given the job his all these past few months, but nailing Giardella would paper over the cracks and give him a little breathing space to sort himself out.
Finding the rear entrance to the restaurant, Andy reached for his gun.
After sitting in the squad room for over 45 minutes, John felt himself getting annoyed at Andy's continued absence.
How many times had he covered for his partner recently?
Sure he could hardly talk, being late himself, but he'd been relying on the fact that Andy would cover for him, like the several times he'd done for Andy.
It was strangely quiet in the squad room, with only himself and the admin woman present. The way that she kept looking at him was starting to become irritating. He was tired and sore from the countless sleepless nights and fights with Lori. He could feel his temper and natural goodwill towards people start to slip with each day that he and Lori seemed to drift further apart.
Pinching the bridge of his nose and leaning his elbows on his desk, John spoke to Emma. "Is there something you want to say to me?"
He glanced up briefly to see her visibly flinch at his words before letting out an annoyed huff. She continued to stare at him, uncertainty creeping across her features.
"Your partner isn't here," Emma sniffed, suddenly looking as if she had something to hide.
Like a dog on the scent of a rabbit, John immediately picked up on it. "Where is he? Is there something I should know?" Emma continued to avoid his gaze. "You need to tell me," he growled as he got to his feet.
"He…..uh…..he had a call from someone…..Then he left and told me to tell you that he was heading to somewhere called Marchetti's…he said it was about someone called Giardella."
"You didn't think to tell me this nearly an hour ago?"
Shit. How long had Andy been gone and what the hell had he got himself into?
Andy such had a stick up his ass about Giardella that it clouded his judgement when it came to trying to nail the creep. There was just something about Giardella that rubbed Andy up the wrong way, causing him to think with his fists rather than his head.
It wasn't as if Andy had been playing with a full deck of cards recently either. As much as he'd tried to deny it, John knew that Andy's drinking was affecting his judgement when it came to doing his job. Andy's focus had been haphazard at best. What if he'd gone to Marchetti's without backup and ended up getting himself killed?
Grabbing his suit jacket, John shot from the room, intent on finding his partner before things really went south.
Just get through the day, Laura. Keep yourself together!
Each hour that passed was another hour closer to being able to go home. The time couldn't go quick enough as far as Laura was concerned. Her colleagues in the office had been nice to her – too nice – and it made her want to burst into tears all over again.
She'd waved off their concerned stares and questions as to whether she was ok or if there was anything that they could do for her. She'd kept her head down and focused on doing prep for an upcoming case.
Perhaps her colleagues misunderstood her, but it was important that she showed no outward emotion while at work. Lawyers had to be above sensitivity and emotional vulnerabilities and if her colleagues had doubts as to whether she could cope they'd think that she could no longer handle the job that she loved to do.
The looks that people gave her weren't exactly making her feel comfortable. What she needed right now was for John to make good on his promise and take her out to lunch and get her away from all of these well-meaning people.
She glanced at the clock, seeing that it was almost 2pm. Surely John would have called her by now, even if it was just to let her know that he couldn't make lunch?
Things had gone wrong. Big time.
Andy glared at Giardella and the rifle that the man was pointing straight at his chest. His gaze turned to John lying on the ground and panting heavily, trying to regain his wits after taking a beating from a couple of Giardella's goons.
Why had John come running in when he had it all under control?
Ok, that was a lie. He was in deep shit when John had come bursting through the front door of the restaurant, but the last thing Andy had wanted was for his partner to get mixed up in this.
John had come in, intent on backing his partner up yet unaware that two more of Giardella's goons were behind him. They'd jumped John before he'd even realised they were there, knocking the gun from his hand and yanking his arms behind his back.
Neither of them had any weapons, yet Giardella had seen fit to make a point by instructing his men to restrain John and give him a serious working over. It didn't matter how many times Andy had pleaded with Giardella to call them off, they'd continued to kick John even when they'd dropped him to the ground.
"You've made your point. Leave him alone, Giardella."
Andy growled, seething with rage yet finding himself at the business end of Giardella's rifle.
"Have I, Sipowicz? You should know by now that your actions have consequences."
"Then take it out on me, not him." Andy pointed his head toward his fallen partner, feeling guilty that John had taken a pounding meant for him. "He's got nothing to do with this."
"I'm getting tired of you hounding me Sipowicz, you and your little ginger guard dog. Maybe it was about time we taught you two some manners."
"This is my fight, not his."
Giardella laughed at that. "You and I have irreconcilable differences, that much is clear. How about you stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours, how does that sound?"
"You're an asshole, Giardella," Andy shot back.
"I know. It's a pity that don't make a prescription for that, ain't it?"
Giardella lifted his heavy bulk from the dining table, throwing the napkin back down on his plate before nodding at his men to head for the exit.
Andy watched them leave as the goons walked backwards, their guns pointed at him. As soon as they'd left he shot over to John, helping him to turn over onto his back, wincing at the swollen and beaten face.
"Andy?" John croaked, opening the eye that wasn't swollen shut. "What happened?"
Andy placed an arm on John's shoulder, patting it gently. "They're gone, kid. Let's get you up and take you to the hospital."
Thoughts of hospitals and what had happened the last time he'd been in one sobered John up instantly as he tried to sit upright, gasping in pain as his ribs protested at the movement.
Lori was going to kill him, but right now the thought of some heavy-duty pain relief seemed quite appealing. His ears were ringing and his vision was fuzzy, not to mention the fact that he felt sore all over. Maybe going to the hospital would be a good idea…..
To be continued.
Authors' Note: This is a continuing story from the writing team of WriterJasmine and Teeheehee1234. It's meant to be a fun attempt at writing a story together based on words that readers provide to us on a weekly basis. For more information about this, please read our profile and please feel free to participate. The 'bolded' words throughout the story are words that some of our reader friends sent our way this week. The words utilized are: dejected; disappointed; explosive; short fuse; lack of tolerance; divorce; tempting; argument; disgrace; prescription; comfortable; premium; handcuffs; winter; squad car; rifle; snow; haphazard; misunderstood and irreconcilable differences.