ANGEL BLUE [1]

LEAD 18: forget me not

      “Stevens the Super Cop,” Shoshana nods in agreement.

      “Cap’n Cop,” Nathalia giggles.

      Despite their cheerful laughs, their tears remain, mixed in with the pouring rain. I still keep my vow of silence, my arms sway limply at my sides. I desperately need a cigarette or a bullet, some form of relief to ease the taut muscles between my shoulders. As if hearing my silent plea, Banks comes up behind me, making sure not to squish Nathalia, and starts to rub between my shoulders.

      “Don’t shut me out Top Cop,” Banks says with a short laugh. “Akira get out of the rain and come inside, it’s cold and I can see your orange bra through your shirt. Sucks shit to be wearing white, huh?”  

      I’m not sure if I snort, or choke. My arms move from my sides to fold over my chest to hide the orange bra I’m wearing. I was in too much of a fluster this morning to find my white or black one and I grabbed whatever I could so I could get to the press conference on time. A smirk twitches up my lips and I pat Shoshana and Nathalia on the head again, they give me some space to breathe and I punch Banks hard in the shoulder.

      “My non-existent balls are rolling in their grave thanks to you,” I quickly fold my arms because Sam’s standing under the cover of the porch with his left hand in his pocket, his right’s in a navy blue sling. He’s staring at the little hoard of people with a curious expression―like he’s trying to figure us out.

      “Without me, your balls would just be dead, I can still haunt them even in the afterlife,” Banks puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. Her brown eyes are alive, not glassy dull orbs, but vibrant. She gives me a warm smile and pulls me into a spine crushing hug, it takes five seconds for her to realise that I’m still bruised from Nikita’s abuse. “Shit, right sorry I forget that you’re not made of steel like you try to lead people on.”

      I smirk slightly and grip my side, wincing at the dull throb my muscles give off beneath my fingertips. Shoshana and Nathalia don’t notice, they hang of one side of my body cheering that I’m staying, while Banks puts her hand between my shoulders and pushes me forward so my legs don’t give out again like the many times during the ten hours of torture I’ve dealt with.

      The girls squeal when the rain pelts against us harder and they breeze past me and Banks towards the cover of their porch. Beth’s there, murmuring to Sam, he nods and mutters things back but keeps his gaze on me and Banks, his curious expression doesn’t waver once.

      I lean into Banks and whisper, “Is my bra really that noticeable?”

      Banks cackles and shoves me forward, “Duh, why else do you think Mr Vanilla Latte is licking his chops at you? Hell I think he got the biggest stiffy when you had your legs around him, you sly fox Top Cop.”

      I just blink at her.

      “Your non-existent balls are screaming,” Banks comments in my ear when we trudge up the steps, dripping and shivering. She regards Sam with close scrutiny and smirks, “You staying?”

      “Well, I―” Sam’s cut off.

      “Yes, stay with us for the night. You can be Mr Super Cop!” Nathalia grabs Sam’s unslung hand and tugs on it, pulling him off balance slightly. Nathalia has a gift, she can make anyone smile no matter what situation, nothing seems to phase her, she makes Sam’s nerves ease.

      “I―” Sam’s silenced again.

      “Yeah, you can make sure that Super Cop and Stevens don’t go for each other’s throats again like last time when they found out you had a PA. I mean seriously, they need a man to keep them in check so they don’t stalk your Facebook,” Shoshana says nonchalantly, accompanied with a one-shoulder shrug.