For the next hour or so, I heard a lot of yelling and shouting coming from the other side of my bedroom wall. Amy was blowing out all the frustrations she had obviously kept caged inside her for years, while her sister was calling her names and shouting out all her flaws. True family as I knew it.
In the meantime I had buried myself in my work again. Even though I knew I never missed a clue, I kept going over the details of the kidnapping.
One thing bugged me; Vahlov was no amateur when it came to killing, yet he left the body in the wide open city for us to find it. He could've gotten rid of it, burned her corpse, and he wouldn't have had the police sniffing around his case. The kid's mother had been a prostitute with minimal family. Nobody would've reported her missing, at least not for months, which at that point the trail would've gotten too cold to investigate. Who cared about a street prostitute these days?
So why did he leave her for us to find her?
I heard the sound of final words being said on the other side of my wall before a door was thrown open and then slammed shut. I heard something breaking—a vase or a glass—against the door before Amy's silent sobs begun. The bedsprings of her mattress creaked and I now knew she exactly what she was doing. She was trying to bury the pain with what she knew best; Pleasure.
I focused my mind back on the papers in my hand, going over the pictures taken at the murder scene of the dismembered prostitute. There had to be something I had missed, something obvious, right in front of me...
Three short knocks sounded on my door. My head slowly rose and I looked at it. I knew it was her.
Standing up, I walked out of my bedroom and over to it. I opened the door and looked at her. "If you need a shoulder to cry on, forget it. I don't do tears."
"I don't need a shoulder to cry on," She said, meeting my eyes as she stepped closer. "I need a dick to ride on."
I sighed when she put her hands on my chest, grasping my shirt. "The vibrator not enough this time?"
"Not after I had you. I only want you now," She whispered, stepping onto her toes. She gently pressed her lips to mine and I kissed her back.
"What about Maddox?" I said between kisses, cocking a brow at her as I wrapped my hands around her waist. "I'm sure he'll be more than willing if you purr enough into the phone."
"I don't want Maddox, I want you," She said again, gripping my shirt tighter. She begun dragging me out of my apartment, into the hall. She cleverly managed to close my door behind me, locking me out. I didn't care.
"I can't fix you," I told her when she pulled me into her own apartment. I lifted my hand and trailed my finger across her jawline. "I can give you a fix, but I can't fix you. I live with trouble."
"I know," She murmured, looping her arms around my neck. She closed the door to her apartment with a small push and then continued leading me to her bed. "That's why you keep coming back to me. I'm trouble."
"You knocked on my door."
"But you never say no." She leaned in and pressed a long, deep kiss on my lips. I kissed her back, traveling my hand down her spine. After another moment she pulled away, breathing heavily. "You want me as much as I want you."
I gripped her shirt, pursing my lips a little. "We share similarities, Amy. We both don't do love and that's the only reason I'm here right now. That, and it keeps me from dwelling in boredom."
"Oh, just say you like my pussy." She ran her hands through my hair. "It's so much easier."
I gripped her hips and pulled her closer to me. She exhaled shakily as I grabbed her chin with one hand and turned her head sideways. Bringing my lips down to her ear, I whispered; "I like your body; Not just what's in between your legs. How often does Maddox tell you that?"
She turned her head to me, her eyes dark. She bit down on her lip before she pulled me closer and brushed her lips against mine. She kissed me hard and I met her with the same force.
From there on, all bets were off. Amy ripped my tie off, unbuttoned my shirt while our tongues mingled. Not moments later, we were on her bed, tangled in her sheets.
She sat on top of me and rode me while her hands rested on my chest. Her hips swayed sensually as she tilted her head backwards, getting lost in the sensation. Beads of sweat were rolling down her forehead and chest, casting a luminous glow onto her skin. Her breasts were round and heavy, her nipples dark and peaked. Her slender, supple waist thinned in at her stomach, but her hips were womanly, curvy and full. Just like her lips.
"Why do you let your sister intimidate you?" I asked, feeling her inner walls clench deliciously around me.
"Because she's my sister," Amy breathed. "She's always been the good one, the perfect one. Everything she does is golden in our parents eyes. Whenever I do something, I'm a disgrace to the entire family."
"Sounds like a nice family," I sarcastically commented.
She looked down at me and frowned. "They are my family. They're all I've got in the world."
"What about Maddox?"
She moaned softly as she languidly rode me. "We dated for a while, but I'm horrible at relationships. I get bored with the same old dick, so I cheat. Every guy turns out to be a real shithead. No one can satisfy me. Not like you do."
"Stop trying to coax me into believing I'm the first proper lover you've had, we both know it's a lie," I said, sliding my hands up her smooth thighs. "We also both know you're a nymphomaniac. You enjoy and survive on having sex with multiple different partners. It's what you do."
"What I do, is fuck," She said, thrusting down on me hard, making me grunt. She leaned down to my lips and hovered just above them. "Sex is the best thing in the world, so why not do it all the time with whomever you see fit?"
"And here I thought love was the best thing in the world," I retorted, putting a sarcastically demeaning emphasis on the word 'love.'
"I don't believe in love," She whispered against my lips. "It's a chemical reaction in the brain that gets activated in certain situations, but like all drugs, it never lasts. So I fuck."
I looked at her for a long time while she sat back up again and began riding me harder, faster this time. "What the fuck are you doing flipping pancakes in a café, Amy?"
"I'm not, right now I'm riding your cock." She leaned down to suck my nipple into her mouth. I closed my eyes for a moment, salvaging in the feeling.
"You're smarter than you look."
"And you're sexier than you know. Ever considered trading out the tie for a pair of sunglasses?"
"Sunglasses block my vision and I need my vision," I clenched my jaw when she moved up the tempo, the squelching sound of our sexes colliding increasing. My hips started meeting her thrusts, puncturing her deeply each time her pussy swallowed me.
Amy begun panting, digging her nails into my chest. "Yes... you do. Everything... you do... depends... on... your eyes..."
"Not everything," I replied through gritted teeth. I could feel her inner walls begin to spasm around me, tightening in an ōrgasm that was bringing my own closer. "There are other ways to deduct. Sometimes, it all about... the feel."
Amy combusted in her ōrgasm, sobbing into the ceiling as she rode it out. Her nails dug into my chest and drew blood as she claw her way down my torso. That cut the last shred of control I had before I felt myself release and spill into the condom. Amy collapsed on top of me, panting heavily, just as I did.
"That felt amazing," She finally said when she had a breath to spare. "So amazing."
"Feeling better about your sister?"
"Yeah," She whispered, still panting heavily. "There's no way that her uptight husband fucks her this good."
"That's what happens when you get married," I closed my eyes, simply just breathing. "The ring forged in fire ironically enough kills yours."
Amy sat up a little and took my left hand, watching where the little white tan-line around my ring-finger still showed the telltale sign of the wedding band that once sat there. "How long were you married?"
"Six years."
"Were you the one who ended it?"
"No, she did," I replied, braiding my fingers with hers. "My work got in the way like it always has for the women I've dated."
"How old are you exactly?"
"Twenty-eight."
"So you got married when you were twenty-two?" She said, raising a brow.
"I could get you a calculator if you want to double-check that."
"I'm twenty-four," She volunteered. "And I'm not looking for anything serious."
"I know you're not, if you were, I wouldn't have let you seduce me."
She smirked a little, then tilted to the edge of the bed and padded around on the floor with her hand until she found whatever she was looking for. It turned out that thing was my phone. "I'm putting my number in," She smiled, opening my phone and begun clicking on the keys. "If you get too lonely, give me a text or a call." She hit Save before shutting my phone again.
I raised a flat brow. "I don't get lonely. I get bored."
"Alright, then if you get bored," She smirked. "You'll have something to do."
I just closed my eyes again as she kissed my chest, letting her tongue twirl out to tease me. "It's your own mistake, Amy."
~~~
I woke up, not even realizing that I'd fallen asleep. I was still in Amy's apartment, the afternoon light streaming in through her windows. I tilted my head slightly to the side and found her awake, watching me.
"What?"
"I've just been watching you sleep." She replied and smiled a little.
"Oh, for Christ's sake, get a life." I snapped and rolled my eyes. I then brought my hands up to rub some life into my face.
Suddenly I heard my phone ring from somewhere in her room. Turning away from her, much to her dislike, I patted around with my hand on the floor before finally finding it under her bed. Sitting up on the edge of the comforter, running a hand through my hair, I tiredly pressed answer. "Crane."
"We got a possible murder suspect here at the station, but he's not talking." Leon's gruff voice said on the other end. "We caught him lurking around the station, trying to scope up some 411 on the case."
"Russian?"
"Looks like it, but as I said, he ain't talking."
"Describe him to me. Age, height, weight, ethnicity, clothes, everything."
"He looks like he's in his early twenties, about six foot two, Caucasian, but dark black hair. Brown eyes, fairly buff for his age. He's wearing loose camo-colored pants and a black ripped shirt with some logo on it. Converse shoes, worn out. Leather jacket, ripped. If I didn't know any better, I'd categorize him as the stereotypical bully of any normal high school."
"And you got him into the interrogation room?"
"Yeah, didn't put up much of a fight. He's been there for two hours, still hasn't let out a peep."
"Are you there right now, watching him?"
"Yeah, I'm on the other side of the glass. Why?"
"Are his hands folded on the table or resting in his lap, and is he looking around or looking down?"
There was a small pause wherein I guessed Leon studied the kid. "Hands are folded on the table, but he's looking down. Why?"
Feeling Amy crawl up behind me, gently pressing her hands to my shoulders, I closed my eyes. "He's their fall-guy. They sent that kid to take the fall for the murder, but he's as innocent as the high school bully you described. The way he's sitting shows that he's surrendering, but he's scared. Hands on the table shows he submits, but the way he's looking down means he's scared. If his hands had been in his lap and he had been looking around, he had been there for trouble. Inverted, but daring you to make a move on him. This kid is not, he's just there to take the blame. Release him. The biggest stains you'll find on his police record is graffiti, I guarantee it."
Amy started kneading my shoulders and pressed small kisses up my neck while I waited for Leon to reply.
"That's crazy, man. We just got a hit on his fingerprint. Mikhail Rocoff, 22, Russian immigrant, no more than a few DUI's and a dozen vandalism charges."
"Put him back in school and tell him to tell Vahlov, I'm disappointed," I scoffed. "Sending a minor to take the fall for his dirty work and expecting me to fall for it? That's an insult to my intelligence, I deserve better than that."
"Come down to the station and tell him yourself," Leon snapped. "Why aren't you at work yet?"
"I was under the impression that you called when you needed me. I'm not leaving unless you actually got something."
"Oh, we got something, and this is a 10, Russ. You're gonna wanna see this."
"What is it?"
"Let's just say, you've got mail."
Pressing my lips together and furrowing my brows, I replied. "I'll be there in 20." I hung up and threw my phone back on the floor.
"I love when you do that," Amy murmured against my neck, still massaging my shoulders. "Deduce."
I stood up and turned around, catching her hands and braiding my fingers with hers. "That's called being sapiosexual." I leaned down to her lips and kissed her, drawing a shudder from her. "You get aroused by intelligence."
When she moaned, I knelt down on the bed and cupped her face. I made sure to kiss her slowly, like I was fucking her mouth with my tongue. I felt goosebumps rise on her skin and the pulse in her neck beat faster.
"Do you have to go to work right now?" She whispered against my lips.
"Yeah, I do." I replied, meeting her mouth again. I let my lips travel down the canyon of her breasts before cupping them with my hands. "They need me."
"I need you."
I pressed a kiss on each swell before observing them. They fit nicely in my hands. "No, you don't. You had me earlier and now I'm going to work. You can use one of your toys if you're desperate, which judging on these," I pinched both her hardened nipples which made her moan and lean her head back. "you are. So get to work."
Releasing her body and standing up again, I heard her whimper in frustration before she plonked down on her bed. I started going around her room, picking up my clothes that in the frenzy earlier had been scattered everywhere. My tie was hanging on a lampshade.
"When will you be back?" She said, reaching in between her legs to tease me with the sight of her playing with herself.
I indulged her. "When the case is solved."
She slowly licked her lips, arching her back as she slipped two fingers inside her soaking heat. "Will you come fuck me when that happens?"
Fixing my tie, I kept my eyes on her. "We'll just have to see, won't we?"
And with that, I left her apartment, after grabbing my phone, and headed down to my car. A cold shower would have to wait until I got to the station.
~~~
"Is this what you call professionalism?" Ms Dee quipped at the sight of me walking in to the police station in my wrinkled clothes. "Have you looked yourself in the mirror?"
"I haven't looked myself in the mirror for ten years, it's a waste of time," I ran a hand through my tousled curls. "What's the news?"
Her eyes sharpened at my dry reply, but at least she didn't comment any further. She knew in a battle of having the last word, I'd win. Even if she was my 'boss'. "Leon has it, go get briefed from him. He's in his booth."
Without answering, I strode past her, heading for Leon's cubicle. I found him bent over his table, frowning seriously at his computer.
"Where's the mail?" I asked in a voice that I could only describe as offensive. I didn't care at this point.
When he heard my voice, Leon looked up. "Good, you're here."
"You called me."
"And I promise I did it with good reason," He darkly said, clenching his jaw. "Take a look at this."
I came into his booth and glared at his computer screen. It was a video file pasted into an email, with the subject line; 'FOR DETECTIVE CRANE.' Pursing my lips, I glared at it. "Mind pressing play?"
Leon pushed a button on his keyboard and the video begun. It was a dark room, but you could just see the contours of a person lurking in the shadows.
"Roses must wilt, but only after the seed has planted. Only then can it ensure its legacy on this beautiful earth—only then will its roots continue to grow."
That was a thick Russian accent if I ever heard one. Speaking in fluent Russian, Leon of course had no idea what he was saying. But I did.
"I have never been a fan of roses, Detective Crane. Even as beautiful as they are, they always carry thorns. You can cut them off, but roses are a stubborn plant, even if it is fragile. They sprout new thorns and eventually become impossible to handle. It's better to let them wilt or to cut off the stem."
"What's he saying?" Leon whispered when Vahlov held a pause. I silenced him with a single finger.
"This rose is mine, Detective Crane, and I fully intend to keep it while it's still blooming. Anyone who tries to take it from me will get their stem cut. I think you'll find I am a skilled botanist. You have been warned."
The video ended and I pursed my lips again, resisting the urge to smirk. That had certainly been insightful.
"What did he say?" Leon repeated, a little more impatiently. "Did he speak about the kid?"
"He spoke in sloppy metaphors, but essentially he told us to back off—me in particular. He finds me a threat to his beloved mafia and its inheritance."
"Inheritance? As in... he wants his kid to take over for him?" Leon, asked exasperatedly.
"I thought that was redundant to say at this point. Why else do you think a mafia lord would adopt the one-night-fling bastard child he got from a prostitute's sullied hands? I hardly think his biological clock chimed in if you catch my drift."
"Alright, so Mafia lord takes kid to get an heir," Leon needlessly summarized. "Where does that leave us?"
Smirking, I crossed my arms. "It means we gotta break out the weed whacker before the weed kills the seed."
• • •
Roses are red, violets are blue,
Russell just cracked the mystery,
But I wonder if did you, too?