The Recompensa diaria was, as usual, full of life.
As we stepped in, your typical Mexican style music filled the air. You could feel the rythm fizzing your blood while the spicy taste of burritos and nachos made your tastebuds cry in joy. My legs were trembling in a blink of time, hungrily in need for a good party. Angela, just like me, was super hyped for having a fun time, while our third member couldn't say anything out loud, just huffed because of the defeat.
"Where should we go first? Should we go to the dance floor right away?" I turned to Lopez, my eyes sparkling in joy.
"Let's wait for something catchy" suggested the woman. She wore simple jeans, a red turtleneck sweater and a black leather jacket with a pair of black, high-heeled booties.
I choose an all-black dress. Its chest piece was like a corset, coal black laces running in a straight, wide line from up to the bottom on its front side. The lower side of the dress, similarly to its long sleeves, were loose and comfy, letting the cool, Los Angeles air streaming in. It was one of my favourite dresses: not too flagrant, still fashionable.
Of course, Tim told me that it was a simple party that I mooched from him, no need to play dress ups. I rewarded his comment with a duck face, choosing the tallest boots I had, as a sign of rebellion.
"Alright! Let's get something to drink then" I motioned toward the bar, to an empty space, that was crying for us to order. "First round... tequila?"
"Yaas!" Angela exclaimed, grabbing me and Tim with her two hands, pulling us both to the bar. She asked for the two drinks right away, sitting onto one of the bar stools. I sat on the other, our male third member standing between us. Lopez clapped, gathering both our attention. "Who'll pay for the first round?"
I changed a rapid look with the woman, which was more than enough to decide the previous question. In sync, we replied. "Tim!"
The mentioned officer frowned, then barked in his usual style. "Hey, no fair you two co-operating against me! I cannot even drink with you, since I have to carry you princesses around"
"Well, you shouldn't have played the professional boxer against me" I stuck my tongue out before clinking glasses with Lopez and taking a good sip from my drink.
The alcohol burned my veins as it ran along, making my head spun in light dizziness. At the same time, joy took over me, excited to hang out with other colleagues than my rookie mates. I loved Nolan and West, but I felt I really needed a bit of change, a bit of something else.
Suddenly, a mix of Spanish and Latin music came on in the background, music I knew and loved. My legs began trembling in thrill, hungry for some good dance moves and letting myself rampage free and without limits. My eyes met Angela's, who, from a rapid change of glances, was on the same state as me. I bypassed Tim and grabbed the woman by her arm, locking it in mine. We chuckled together as we entered the thick sea of unrestrained dancers.
Third person POV
Tim shook his head, not believing what he had just witnessed. These two, a crazy duo of dangerous women!
At the same time, the officer couldn't rub off the widening smile from his lips. He would lie if he said he didn't enjoy his time with his colleague and his newest rookie. Well, at first, he didn't really want to come to this party, especially loosing against Darya. There was something in that girl that made her annoying yet interesting at the same time for Timothy. Most of the time, she was as cold as an iceberg up north, freezing every sort of connection you wanted to establish with her. The next moment, she was just like other young women of her age: daring, curious, kinky and beautiful. All of these kneaded together into this blond, no, almost snowwhite haired Russian mystery.
Tim hated his senses. His only wish to himself was not to think anything more of his and Darya's relationship than T.O. and his rookie. He didn't want to break any rules, he had broken a lot already with hiding his wife's secrets. It was equal to firing himself, still, he protected the woman he once fell in love with.
Yet, this little mantra he told himself to be the strict, cold teacher, broke at once when Darya played with his feelings at the airport, at his car. First, he didn't want to join the little game. However, as the woman's sweet, almost cotton candy scented perfume entered his nose and he stood only millimeters from him, he was doomed. He was so confused, he was thinking on kissing her! His own student! And the fact that Darya sat right on his private part when wrestling didn't help the situation whatsoever.
Tim slapped himself in his head. He had to stop recreating these moments. It was clearly because of not being with anyone for a good while in a normal relationship.
"Which one is your chick, Bud?" an unfamiliar, cracky male voice pulled him back to reality fully.
It was one of those typical pervs, hunting for single girls and women. Huge, worn and dirty clothes, long and uncared beard, dirty skin. His eyes were sparkling of enjoying his little ritual hunt, as he analysed the room for possible targets.
It made the officer's nerves go as thin as possible, his pulse in his ears, racing with the speed of light. Especially, when the predator's gaze rested on Darya, who was unaware of the danger gazing her. Tim literally felt his blood pressure rising with every rythm of the Latin music in the background. He didn't know why he was so uncomfortable, though. After all, he had experienced the little Russian girl's power from first hand. This pedo was no challenge for her and her mysterious ninja stars – Tim wouldn't be surprised to find some at her in the club, either.
Still, a nagging coming from somewhere inside forced the officer to prevent any sort of trouble from happening. He grabbed his official L.A.P.D. badge and pushed it right into the other man's face. He backed a bit, just to have his eyes widen in shock. He began making excuses, but Fim shooed him off of the club. A satisfied smile crawled onto his face as he came back to the club, to his two „chicks" having a drink, exhausted from rampaging on the dance floor. He didn't know why, but his heart slowed down even more when seeing Darya enjoying her own drink, now with no danger lurking around.
Darya's POV
"That was fun!" I exclaimed, both exhausted and overjoyed as we were sipping our drinks with Angela.
She was sitting right in front of me, on the other bar stool. A huge bowl of nacho chips and sweet chilli sauce were lying between us on the table to have something beside the alcohol. We came to party and not to get drunk and get scolded the next day.
We were so deep in thoughts, we didn't even notice Tim being gone until he made his re-entrance clear. He stopped with half his body behind my back, for some reason as close to me as possible. It was as if he was... afraid of something happening to me. He didn't approach us more, not even when Lopez invited him. I didn't understand his decision of playing the guard dog, but I didn't mind not having to fully focus on my surroundings.
Me and Angela stayed like this, chatting in peace, enjoying our time to the fullest. To be honest, if I didn't like Angela already enough, after that little girls' night of ours, I did. When it came to getting the T.O.s, I mostly rooted for Lopez. She seemed strict at first, but inside, she was quite similar to me. And this recognition gave me a chance to make peace with myself.
Tim wasn't that horrible, as I had imagined on our first day and week. Sure, he had to be cold when it came to a life lesson sort of explanation. However, if he hadn't cared about his colleagues, he wouldn't have stayed behind me all night long.
And knowing this made my heart pound faster with a strange kind of happiness.
I only found out the real reason of him watching my back when he stopped in front of my flat's building. We got out, I said my goodbye to him and wanted to finally rest my drunk head on my soft pillow. But someone had other plans, aka guiding me straight until my own door.
I had enough of him being suddenly so overprotective right there. Of course, I didn't yell at him, nothing like that. It was gentle of him, I had no reason to rampage. I was just too curious and drunk to keep things in myself.
Well, I didn't keep things in myself in general, so being a teeny-tiny bit drunk didn't help my situation whatsoever.
I turned around before unlocking the door. I had my back pressed against the cold material, my eyes rising until they met Tim's bright blue orbs. He was standing a meter from me, puzzled why I stopped out of the blue.
"Let me guess. You forgot your keys?"
I shook my head, smiling in advance of my awkwardness, confusing him even more. He placed his weight on one foot, then the other, arms crossed. "Nah, they're safe and sound in my pocket"
The officer rose an eyebrow. "Then?"
"I won't be able to sleep until you tell me why you played a guardian all along" I kept the eye contact, as if I could lock him there, not releasing until he answered my question.
To my surprise, this question... somehow pushed him into a kind of uncomfort. I saw in his nervous movements, the way he tried to make sense in his head before answering, that there indeed was something behind the scenes.
I placed my hands on my hip. I could barely hold back my curiousity dancing on my cheek. "Come on, big boy, I won't laugh. What made you guard me?"
Tim really didn't want to tell me the real reason. He was hesitating how to form it to words, then to a sentence. His gaze even stood clear of my eyes, hands in nervous fists as a memory passed his mind for a moment.
He didn't have to say anything else. I understood the reason right away. His motions, the way he reacted to a memory I had no idea of were like clear guidelines – telling me that some sort of nasty male was eyeing me or Angela, maybe even both of us.
Of course, neither Tim nor that pedo knew we had our guns at us. I even had some spare ninja stars in my boots. Still, he acted automatically to get rid of the possible danger. We didn't ask, plus he even stayed with us all night long in the remaining time.
I reached for his cold hand, his lost gaze finally resting on mine. As his skin touched mine, a sudden feeling, like a lightning striking into me ran along my spine. I felt my pulse rising into the limitless sky. I didn't pay too much attention it, though – I concentrated fully on the hug into what I pulled the man. I rested my head on his chest, the muscles trembling as I touched them. I heard his heartbeats racing with the light, becoming even more wild as he returned my hug. He wrapped me in his arms, first, uncertain. Then, as he realised I won't just move away, he tightened on his hold.
"Thank you for keeping us safe" I mumbled into his grey T-shirt, the material hot under my breath. "You're not that horrible after all"
A manly hand caressed my back in return. Tim rested his chin on top of my head, tightening me as much as he could in a playful hug. "You're welcome. You're driving me crazy, you know that, right?"
I nodded, looking up at him from only centimetres. As our eyes met, he was smiling. Smiling like back at the car, his expression feeling like he wouldn't let anyone hurt me. I didn't know if T.O.s supposed to act like this in the USA, but I didn't mind it. I had no one here, so belonging to someone felt amazing. Of course, I had my two rookie friends, but the connection with them felt different.
"I'm trying my best" I shrugged, my teeth peeking out in a wide grin. I released him from my hug, stepping one back, eyes still locked in a mysterious connection. "You wanna come in? Not to have sex or anything, I just feel lonely here after hanging out with you and Lopez all night"
The officer rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief of how explicit I was of given intimate topics. He waved with his hand toward the door, giving up the „fight" before even starting it, gesturing to open the door with a his lips in a straight, annoyed line.
I obeyed, my keys already in my hands. I slipped the cold metal into the lock, turning it to my left to open it... but it was already open.
I tried opening it again, to make sure it wasn't the alcohol playing with my mind. But it was open the second time again.
I stepped back, bumping into Tim. I pointed at the door, my voice low as I whispered. "It's open. I didn't leave it like this"
"Are you sure?" the man asked, already grabbing his gun and loading it.
I nodded. "Pretty sure. Two things are always 100% certain: me locking the door and getting my period on every 28th day"
Tim tried his best to avoid the second fact, rather jumping into planning how to enter the flat in case of someone bad being in there. He became one with the wall, me doing the same. We both grabbed our loaded weapons. Blood pulsated in my ear as the officer signaled with his hand to cover him, he'll go first. For the first time since we had known each other, I wish I could tell him that I wasn't a beginner in the field... that I can protect not just myself, but him, as well. I had enough training about this kind of operation in the freezing, Siberian camp.
Still, with my heart aching to tell him the silent truth, I obeyed with a huge lump in my throat, following him right behind him.
As taught, Tim probably wanted to head to a room to scan it for any possible dangers, then switch to another room, if the living room was clear. However, to our horrible, horrible shock, he didn't even have to start examining the living room.
The evidence was right in front of our very eyes, frozen in a puddle of scarlet blood, eyes missing. Only the flesh in his eye sockets were left, even his ears and tongue missing, as well. As we turned out head to the wall behind the fresh corpse, there was a message written in red, clearly from the poor fella's blood.
I wasn't surprised of such crime, to be honest. If you work in special forces in a huge country with enormous influence, you'll get more or less antagonists sooner or later. You'll get used to this after a couple of times. Of course, after vomiting your entire stomach out once or twice.
I'm talking from experience.
Plus, if the corpse is someone you know or love, a family member or a good friend of yours, the message is clearly addressed to you from someone who hates your gutt as much as possible. This case was no different, starting from the message written in Russian, with the Cyrillic alphabet, saying nothing else, but the following:
You cannot hide from your roots, Bunny.
I walked closer to the corpse, crouching beside it. I didn't touch it, since it was an evidence – I only examined whether I knew the man or not. In his middle forties, tan skin, grey hair, in dark green shorts and a loose, white shirt, something you would wear not to get sunburn. A person I didn't know from any past action of mine. He wasn't even typical Russian, rather a random USA citizen from L.A. Those who wrote the message for me needed a poor devil, someone randomly walking on the streets, someone innocent. Poor guy, he was right at the wrong place in the wrong time and became the ink source of my past enemies.
While I was analysing the corpse, Tim made a quick walk around the flat, finding no one, just as I expected. They were long gone by that time, planning the next step of their inhuman torture. Typical steps from Russian bad guys, putting nasty work through in the shadow.
As Tim finished, he headed back to me, stopping right beside me. He signaled me to step away, taking photos of the eyeless, earless, tongueless leftover of the man. I stood up, crossing my arms after I called the department for the necessary people, just to be met with the officer's strict face. God, I missed that face.
"What is written there? I cannot read Russian cyrillic letters"
"You cannot hide from your roots, Bunny." I recalled the sentence, not even looking at it. Tim didn't seem less confused, so with a sigh, I decided to give up some part of my secret identity. After all, this was a clear guideline for my new colleagues of my having something ugly in my past. "Bunny was my... alias in my previous work, let's just say that"
This seemed to lessen the confusement in him, turning it into suspicion in my way. I didn't blame him, I wouldn't trust anyone saying such things, either. His joyful gaze that I had received from him in front of the door was nowhere near what he felt that moment. Still, surprisingly, as he spoke, I didn't feel him completely loosing trust. I didn't understand the reason for that, but I didn't mind not loosing one of my emotional pillars here in L.A. "The job which required throwing ninja stars flawlessly?"
I didn't believe my ears. Was he... mocking me?
"That job, yes" that was all I could reply. I wanted to ask him why he didn't push me away so bad, my palms were sweating of forming the next question.
However, the reinforcement had other ideas, flooding my small and once cozy apartment.
Detectives surrounded the corpse, paper swishing under their hands as they wrote. Other officers, including my rookie friends, Lopez and Bishop were shocked by the view, immediately making their way to me. I set a high value on their support, the way they intended to make me feel less shocked. Tim was on another opinion, not wanting to expose me to peckish questions, even though I had just broken some of his trust in me. He grabbed me by my stunted, lifeless arm and pushed me out of the crime scene, talking to my ear as my back was pressed against him on our way out. "You'll sleep at me and I won't argue about that. This way, you can tell me who you really are, Darya Lyubov Sokolov"