Cops & Robbers

Chapter Fourteen (Revised)

Dedicated to CeeCeeXOX for the cover that took first place. It's in the side panel. Oh and be sure to check out her story "Being Olivia". 

The rest of the entries will be displayed on my next update.

I've always had an overactive imagination. When I was younger I would wage invisible battles with the air pretending I was a badass street fighter like Chun-Li. That eventually evolved into pretending I was a master thief, though at times that had some practical application. I even recalled one occasion when I got drunk at a high school party and imagined that I was a monarch and that the toilet was my gilded throne. 

As time went on and I matured, my mind realized that the only way for it to continue with its wild imaginings was to manifest itself in my dreams. Sometimes the dreams were just memories and others were just downright weird, but the fact remained that they would always come.

When I fell asleep on my old bed after my shower, all I saw was black. I didn't dream; I just slept like the dead and woke up when my brain turned itself back on.

Usually cognitive thought returned to my sleep addled mind slowly as the cobwebs blew away, but that time I went from fast asleep to wide awake in a matter of seconds. It was like someone had flipped a switch.

My eyes popped open, only to establish that there wasn't enough light to see by. I laid there for a little longer staring into the darkness and wishing I’d never left. Being home felt safe and secure and warm. I briefly wondered how long I’d been laying there in my dreamless sleep, but every inkling of contentment fell away when an arm tightened around me. It curled around my abdomen, just below my breasts and pulled me closer into the curve of a long lean body that I instantly knew was Alex.

My heart just about stopped when he groaned in his sleep and snuggled his face into the back of my neck. His breath fanned over the side of my neck in a slow and steady rhythm that coincided with the rise and fall of his chest.

“Te extraño Midget,” he mumbled.

The words ran together and were barely discernible, but they still made my stomach flutter.

I miss you.

The feeling of his lips brushing against my neck as he talked in his sleep could be ignored if I set my mind to it, but the meaning behind the words, if there was one, could not. I willed my stomach to settle down and decided that it was pretty much time to get the hell out of Dodge.

Loosening his hold on me was a slow and tedious process, but the last thing I wanted to do was wake up and face the awkwardness. It probably wouldn’t be awkward for him since he wasn’t the one with the stampede of butterflies in his stomach or the staccato heartbeat whenever I recalled his unconscious admission.

The quiet knock on the bedroom door made me freeze. Time stood still for everything but that blasted door knob. It turned painfully slow and seemed to open even slower. Too late I tried to move the rest of the way out of Alex’s hold, but just in time to see the look on Natasha’s face. There was just enough light from the living room filtering in through the partially open door to get the gist of what she was feeling. Hurt. Betrayed.

She turned on her heel and disappeared from the door frame, her heels informing me of her retreat to the front of the house. I quickly rolled from underneath Alex’s arm, not caring if he woke up. Damage control was my number one priority and it was all I could think about as I rushed after her. I found her with her head resting against the front door and her hand on top of the door knob. She was breathing loud and slow, like she was trying to keep herself from crying.

“Tasha. It wasn’t what it looked like! We weren’t doing anything. I just came over to pick up my clothes and-”

“How long?” She interrupted me. Her tone of voice broke my heart. It was lifeless. Dead. Resigned.