Cops & Robbers

Chapter Six (Revised )

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WARNING! ALTHOUGH THIS IS THE EDITED VERSION, IT STILL HAS QUESTIONABLE CONTENT FOR YOUNGER READERS. READ AT YOUR OWN PERIL.

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My knight in shining armor wasted no time jogging to my side, a look of genuine concern on his face. He hadn’t even said anything yet and I could feel my defenses dropping. There was just something so comforting and safe about him, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

“Are you alright Adrienne?” He questioned scanning the darkness behind me. “That guy wasn’t giving you any trouble was he?”

“I’m fine,” I assured him, “Good Samaritan. He offered to change my tire for me, but I was telling him that not only did I not have a tire jack, but that my friend was on his way.”

“Vincent is a lot of things, but a Good Samaritan is not one of them. Stay away from him Adrienne,” he warned as he walked back to his patrol car. I paused, startled by the fact that Ben knew a low-life that I didn't. But if he knew Vin, odds were he wasn't a law abiding citizen… not that I would have thought he was regardless.

“He was quite the charmer,” I announced drily for Vincent’s benefit on the off chance he was eavesdropping again. Ben glanced back at me clearly not amused.  When he bent over to pop the trunk, I couldn’t resist acting like a teenage boy and leaning over just a little to check out his ass.

“Thanks for coming to the rescue.”

He stood up straight, jack in hand and strode back to Daniel’s car. “No problem.”

I sat down on the curb behind him with my elbows resting on my thighs and my head propped up in my palms watching him jack up the car. Clearing his throat he said, “So whose car is this? If I remember correctly, you had a rusty, ghetto piece of crap.”

I caught the glint of my forgotten knife a foot away so I scooted closer and answered, “It belongs to a friend of mine named Daniel. My ‘rusty, ghetto piece of crap’ as you call it, is in the shop for a fix ‘er up. This kind of sucks because now I’m going to owe him a tire.”

“And this Daniel wasn’t able to help you out?” he asked as I slid the knife safely back into my purse out of sight.

“Straight to voicemail,” I sighed.

“And Alex?”

“He’s busy boning his girlfriend Natasha.” I shrugged. In retrospect, I probably should have sounded at least a little peeved, because if Alex left me stranded with a flat tire in favor of getting some, I’d probably have been more than a little put out. No one would dare accuse me of having my priorities straight when it came to life in general, but personally, I would never leave a friend stranded on the wrong side of town. 'Bros before hoes' and all that.

He glanced back at me and gave me a look of disbelief. The kind that said he thought Alex was an idiot. “She must be one hell of a lay,” he acknowledged casually as he returned to changing the tire and we lapsed back into silence.

For a “good boy” Ben sure wasn’t acting like one. He acted like I had never kissed him. Of course it had been pretty PG and I hadn’t meant for it to mean anything, but I'd expected him to at least mention it. To scold me or something. Wasn't that what good guys did? Overthink shit?

Strangely enough my heart picked up its pace, but I just watched him work, not sure what else to say.

When he backed up a couple of minutes later to make room to remove the flat, I noticed something I hadn’t the first couple of times I had seen him. Ben had some serious ink on his left arm. As I recalled, the first time he’d barreled into me, it had been dark outside and the lighting poor. I had also been too distracted by his return and my impending arrest to pay much attention to his well-muscled arms. The second time we’d seen each other, he’d been in street clothes… long sleeve if I remember correctly.

I tried to think of all the people I knew with that many tattoos. All of them were nice, but none of them were good – at least not in the eyes of the law.

“You’re good to go,” he told me, jerking me back to reality. I took the hand he extended to me and stood up.

I never let go as we traded spots in relation to the car. Sitting on the hood, I tugged on his hand lightly so if he moved forward it would be of his own volition. When he took a few steps toward me, I smiled in victory. “You’ve got a lot of tattoos,” I told him, tracing the outline of one with a finger.

“Yes I do,” he admitted putting a hand on the hood of the car next to my thigh. I thought for sure that I had won, but he proved otherwise a few seconds later when he turned away from me to lean onto the hood beside me.

"So where were you headed dressed like that?"

Caught completely off guard, I immediately looked down. My sheer lace dress and stilettos completely inappropriate for our surroundings.

"Uh, date."

Ben raised an eyebrow at me, clearly not a believer. "Uh huh... in this neighborhood."

He said it as more of a statement than a question.

DOWN FOR EDITING! TO BE REPOSTED 2/22/15