--
It was raining in the Bronx on the night of June 3rd.
The pavements reflected water that had cleared the muck and garbage away down sewers, swelling with rats and god knows what else. There were small rivers on the streets, and flapping window blinds as the wind howled and twisted around the neighborhood. The gangs on street corners huddled close, puffing on rolled up joints and exchanging money for drugs. And whilst they were dwindling in their trade, no one was entirely anticipating the chaos that would ensue merely two minutes in the future.
Samantha, hovering over Will's shoulder, bit into a chocolate donut and stared directly and the flat screen. The target was seated behind a wide table with two burly men flanking him on the left and right. Drinks were on the house apparently. Two bottles of Jameson Whiskey and four crystal tumbler glasses. But for two long hours since they had been monitoring the scene within the bar called 'The Dividers', a fourth person did not grace the table. And the blonde was beginning to wonder if perhaps the missing piece was a casual bystander, about to clip them behind the ears in what could be the biggest drug bust in the Bronx.
The white van, disguised as a delivery mobile unit, rocked a little as Andrew climbed in gracefully. He was late as usual, and Samantha's glare directed enough insults to soften that wide smile upon his handsome face.
"Wife got held up in traffic," he explained nevertheless, "so I had to pick little Andy up from school. How are we faring?" He nudged shoulders with Samantha as the screen was studied by three pairs of eyes. Jones immediately smiled after highlighting the scumbag seated behind the table. It had been too long.
"Two uniforms pinned to the back entrance and six plain clothes inside," Samantha said warily.
"And cars?" he caught a whiff of vanilla perfume on her uniform, and smiled because that was evidently the signature scent of Samantha Swan.
"Six stationed around the block and two further up on 4th. Are you geared to go inside or not?" However, the blonde's infuriation towards his lateness had not dissolved.
"Look, I am sorry I was bloody late," he said, spreading out his arms. "But my son needed to be picked up from school. Annie is working over time."
"Then get a goddamn babysitter to do it next time," she growled, snatched up the walkie and stormed off towards the side of the van. From there, emerald eyes peered through the heavily tinted glass and onto the front of the bar that was now being occupied by a newspapers vendor.
To any innocent bystander, it appeared as a normal setting; with a man trying to make a fair day's profit on the daily news. But to someone who frequented the street often, they would immediately highlight the replacement and wonder where the hell was Bill Warren. By then, Bill was probably at home watching a game of soccer and sipping on a Budweiser. In his place was a cop; Stanley. Armed and one of her best.
"He's making a move," came Will's alarmed voice from the front of the van. "Boss. It's now or never."
Adrenaline kicking in, Samantha hit the button on her ear piece with a cold finger and whispered, "show time. Get in and go hard."
There was static. "Not yet, you idiot," came Savory's voice through the radio, loud and clear and obviously angered by the command. "Give him time to spread out a little. And for fuck's sake, Swan, anyone who's giving commands, it's me. You're just working in the DIU."
DIU, as many might not be fully aware of, was the abbreviation for the department Samantha had been beating up dealers in for four years; the Drugs Investigation Unit. She was just a high ranking uniform because of favoritism for busting drug dealers and cracking down on dirty cops. But Savory was a burly female lieutenant who outranked her, in size and attitude. And it wasn't the day for the two of them to have another fist fight. Whilst Savory had been in the NYPD for close to fifteen years, Swan only had four under her belt as a lieutenant. And that was where the quarrel ended. Until there was static from someone's earpiece and within a minute, the blonde perhaps made either the best or worst decision of her career and life.
"Fuck! They've got Savory!" Will cried, springing up and holding his head in disbelief.
On the screen, the lieutenant was being choked in a vicelike grip as another man armed with a rifle kicked her square in the stomach. The plain clothes officers in the surrounding area were trying to beat them off but the tugs were ruthless. Guns blazing, two more appeared and Savory fell onto the floor like a sack of potatoes between them.
Andrew sprang into action, darting past Samantha and pulling open the side door to reveal a deserted street lit by lamps. Yellow from the glow cast by them, the rain still came in a drizzle. Those green eyes followed his progress across the wet pavement. Black boots smashing puddles, his deliberate attempt to ignore her by entering the bar without being ordered to wasn't really pleasing. No. This wouldn't be the end of it. Not today. Not never, Samantha thought. And suddenly, Will found himself alone in the van as the door slid shut.
Within two minutes, she jogged down the alley reeking of urine and beer and towards the back of the bar. Then making a leap for the top of the concrete fence, Samantha pulled herself up. She could literally feel her heart pumping from adrenaline as those black boots landed safely upon the grass on the other side.
Savory should have hauled her ass out of there before this all went down. Should have stationed herself outside in the van. But no, as a directive from the Chief, she just had to be up close and personal. It was almost as if the lieutenant didn't quite trust Swan commanding her uniforms. And that was the part that pissed the blonde off. Not pulling ranks. But the obvious attempt to plant herself in the midst of danger because the two of them had a hormonal history between each other.
Now as the back entrance was spared from the two cops that were standing on guard, Samantha shouldered the metal door open and strode in. With her gun leading the way, those green eyes scanned every inch of space before proceeding in a haste. Barrels lined the faded yellow wall covered in peeling paint. The smell of urine was strong throughout her transgression down the narrow corridor. An oil painting of Jesus Christ was tilted sideways on the wall. And just by the door next to the Messiah, she heard a soft thud and the scrape of a heel.
Slowly nudging the door open a crack, green eyes rested on the back of a woman's figure. Brunette. In a red dress that hugged every damn curve. With a cute ass. Enough glory contained in one figure to drive any man insane from just a rear view. Damn those types though. They were the ones who could kill you slow with poison. Sparingly, she felt herself digressing from the allure.
"Hands up," Samantha said forcefully and aiming her gun.
Dropping the black handbag that was clasped in her right hand, the brunette slowly complied. And Swan immediately fawned over the flawless glow of her honey colored skin that welcomed not a blemish.
"Turn around just as you are," she ordered, already falling into a breathless trap.
Eventually as the demand was abided to, but slowly, the blonde's green eyes widened after recognition washed over her. Not from becoming familiar with each other on a face to face basis. But finally being confronted with a woman who was by then, known by every damn cop in the state of New York and four states over. Even in Mexico, she possibly had to be famous. With those soft brown eyes that could simmer down anyone's fire. The same pair of eyes that had gazed around the bullpen from a photo on the board at the DIU for four years. And belonging to no other than...
"Adriana Lopez-Perez," Samantha stared in awe. The brunette smiled in acknowledgement and dipped her chin a little. "Guess this is your lucky day." Swan moved swiftly after pulling out her handcuffs. But as she invaded the older woman's personal space, the scent of jasmine consumed her within a small pocket. And she was instantly drawn into the flowery magical daze that was threatening to entrap her.
"Why would you arrest me, officer..." those brown eyes considered the gold plate on Samantha's chest as she was handcuffed, "Samantha Swan? What have I done to warrant this kind of treatment by the NYPD?"
"Don't get me started lady," the blonde produced in a wary tone. With the cuffs on, she still kept her gun out and aimed at the door as they began to retreat from the stinking bathroom. "Save your questions for later though. Right now we're kind of busy."
"I am a citizen of this country who pays her goddamn taxes," Adriana argued fair and square as she was quickly led through the back door. "I demand that you provide a suitable reason for my arrest. Or else I will sue the..."
"Take her to the patrol car," Samantha handed the squirming brunette over to a uniform stationed at the door. When she had so desperately needed the assistance from the fucking force a few minutes ago, no one was standing guard outside the place. "And keep an eye on her," Samantha warned him.
"Sure ma'am," Keeley said before he tugged the growling woman away.
Swan found herself remaining in the same position for a few seconds whilst Adriana retreated from where she had been. For some odd reason, a wave of cool doubt was rising within her chest and there was no suitable explanation as to why it had been initiated. She had to command the facts to the forefront of her mind and base the arrest on a justified platform before heading inside again. But was it truly an arrest? Swan realized only after entering the building again that she hadn't read the brunette her rights because why? What in the world could they charge Lopez for? Aiding and abetting in a conspiracy without evidence?
How laughable it was.
Fifteen minutes later bullets rained inside the bar. Scuffles ensued everywhere as men decided to worm their way out, fighting and tugging each other until blood was drawn from nails biting into the flesh of cops. But with gratification, Machavano Perez was arrested and tackled to the ground. He put up a damn good fight till the end though, whilst four officers had to pin his face down. And even though this could possibly be the last pleasurable spot for a man like him before heading to prison, Perez's eyes glinted with malice and he was led outside laughing gleefully like the maniac he was.
Now, as she sipped on some cold coffee riding alongside Andrew in the squad car, the blonde could finally replay the details of the case within the swirling contents swimming up from the last four years.
It all began with four dead bodies outside a beat up club on 5th and Main Street called The Dividers.
Back then, the streets rained with terror from the bloody crime scenes that graced the newspapers every damn week. People were terrified to remain as residents in the Bronx. All because the Red X Cartel was deliberating flicking off men like flies without a care in the world for the lives of innocent civilians caught in the crossfire. In alleyways, in supermarkets, behind schools and even in the park where children played. Where Neal would sometimes take Jordan to ride his small red bicycle.
She shuddered after recollecting that one afternoon that Cassidy decided to skip town to tend to of his ailing mother, leaving their wide eyed four year old son within the depths of the NYPD with Samantha.
Glancing at Andrew as he swore from spilling some of his hot coffee onto the lap of those finely tailored black pants, the blonde remembered Jordan using a blue ink pen to scrawl her name on a sheet of paper. Then one minute after, there was a terrible shootout in the park, just where he would have been if Neal's mother had remained in good health.
After then, they planted spies on the streets and squeezed as much information as they could out of creditable sources. Men like Bentley and Fenwick who were small drug dealers and had familiarized themselves with the trade well enough to divulge facts. Like the names of the big ones. The kahunas, as Bentley called them. Dirty ring leaders that bit huge chunks out of the drug money and spit the wealth into their fancy lifestyles that consisted of gold watches, expensive footwear and black tuxedos. Their sources weren't tough to crack. They were the kind of men who willingly spared information without a hassle because they were promised that when trouble came knocking, the NYPD would throw in a cheat card to free them from the shackles of injustice.
After some time when she had been a rookie though, and under the wing of Savory, their interest in the cartel grew by the day. The drawing boards as the unit called them, were covered in pictures of the victims that were slowly and surprisingly revealed as members of the Red X. The most savage cartel to exist in those times. Arrows were drawn from one motive to the other; crimes of passion, karma, bad blood or laying off their members with a bullet to their heads. And all through it, Swan transfixed her eyes on the wrath and explosions from Savory as she persevered and hammered the Bronx for the source of all the chaos.
In a way, Samantha admired the woman. As stubborn and conceited as Savory had been over the long years of fighting in the muck of crime and drugs, the blonde took a few pages out of the woman's book. By being the shiny face rookie four years ago, Swan had unfolded into a force to be reckoned with. The one officer in the Drugs Investigation Unit that most of the uniforms feared because of her pushy way in obtaining answers. So that when Samantha took over the department early last year from favoritism and sheer luck as they all called it, Savory wasn't in the least bit impressed or willing to cooperate.
"For fuck's sake," Andrew muttered as they swung into the drive by because his stomach was growling, "I think the woman's got the hots for you. It's been years now. We're all aware that she's gay. And if I might admit, hoping that my wife doesn't hear me, you are without a doubt, the sexiest woman in the NYPD."
"Keep your eyes on the road," she said, shaking her head, even though Jones was handling the wheel well enough.
"You should take your head out your ass once and awhile, Swan," Andrew suggested in a light tone. "And realize that we're friends. Stop treating me like a goddamn piece on a chess board."
"I'm just in a mood," she admitted. "Sorry, man."
"Even after we just busted Machavano?" he was impressed, staring at her in awe and wondering how on earth the lead officer in the DIU could fall into depression after what had just unfolded. Bricks had been thrown at them for years on end. Now, they had finally caught the ringleader. Wasn't she supposed to be impressed?
"I don't know. I just feel like something's going to happen and I don't know what it is. Paranoia always shits my mood up." Samantha confessed. She couldn't eat. So Andrew ordered a fish sandwich alone.
As much as the whole ordeal was supposed to create some kind of excitement though, Swan wasn't feeling it. The night was shadowed at minutes to seven o'clock. Jordan was staying at Neal's apartment for the weekend whilst she had to work endless shifts. Perhaps appearing like a terrible mother who couldn't be home every night because of her superhero job, as Jordan would call it. She was out saving people whilst he was playing board games with his dad or watching television on a Friday night. And she couldn't quite shake the feeling of being a disappointment to him.
Now the rain suddenly came down in sheets. Andrew parked the car on the curb and sunk into his sandwich. Samantha, however, stared out the window and found more shadows through the haze of people running from one destination to another. People who had normal lives that didn't involve guns and criminals. With warm meals waiting for them in comfortable homes instead of microwavable soups at nine o'clock in the night from the NYPD's headquarters.
"You know, I thought that he would have known about us," Andrew said as the rain hammered down upon the roof of the car. "Seen us coming. Heard something, maybe. After all, we've been locking down on his location for years now. And every time we get this close," he held up two fingers with merely an inch between them, "he wriggles out unharmed."
Samantha smiled a little. Her fingers drummed over the small pocket on the door. "Every dog has its day. He couldn't run forever."
"And the wife?" Jones seemed surprised. "Hitting two birds with one stone? Bloody hell."
"The fourth glass was for her," Samantha said softly with her eyes glassy.
"Huh?" He considered the blonde's face.
"There was a fourth glass," she said looking at him directly. "On the table in front of Machavano. And he had two men there. I kept wondering...why four glasses."
"Must have been a planned romantic evening," Andrew shuddered from just the thought of it. "I wonder how mafia men treat their wives. Like shit, I bet. Hitting them around like a punching bag whilst they shower them with enough money to buy all the fancy cosmetics the world can provide."
"And the clothes," Samantha reminded him with a small smile. "She was wearing this red velvet dress that hugged every curve with these expensive looking knee high brown boots. I swear, her entire outfit was plucked out of a copy of Vogue. And her face is flawless. I mean, photos just don't do her full justice. Up close, she is hands down, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
"Don't let Savory hear you talking like that," Andrew said with a grin. "She might bust your head against the sink."
"I mean, she was...wow," Samantha stared through the window into the night as it rained heavily still.
"Well if she's got a straight woman like you drooling over her," Jones joked whilst balling up the wrapper from the sandwich, "then I have to admit, I believe you. Men in the mafia just don't pluck wives from corner shops and alleyways. They pick the finest looking beauties. Look at Ricardo Vasquez that we arrested a year ago about two corners from here. He had a Russian wife that looks like a Barbie doll. Too bad he couldn't make it last."
Samantha sighed. "We should head back before Savory puts out a BOLO on me. God knows she's just waiting on me to slip up so that I can be sacked."
"Or she wants you under her," Jones winked whilst kicking the engine to life. It roared under the hood.
"Asshole," Swan grumbled, still staring out the window.
One hour later, and completely pissed, the blonde found herself jogging up iron steps and onto a hazardous platform within the depths of a safe house. Cursing Savory under her breath, she honestly believed that their last confrontation would have ended in a fist fight. If it hadn't been for the chief strolling in and on his way home, the two of them might have really bashed each other's heads onto the desks littered with paperwork.
It had been a long night and Samantha had been holding onto a sliver of hope that she could run into her apartment and retire early. Possibly by then, as she nodded at the officer standing by the door, there would have been a tub of ice cream upon folded legs whilst she sat on her fluffy bed and binged on some random TV show. But no.
Savory had demanded, no threatened her to beat the shit out of Adriana, for answers revolving around the cartel and the brunette's involvement in the ring. This was enough to tip the blonde a little over the edge in front of an audience of cops eager for a little drama on a Friday night. Gone were the days when walls bordered departments to keep out the nasty vermin like Savory from crawling in with her egotistical and pompous self. And now, Samantha waited as Officer Willis keyed the door and nodded.
"Stand guard and don't move," she reminded him as dread covered her from head to toes twitching in those black leather boots. "I'll radio you when I want to come out. Apart from that, keep the door closed."
"Right, ma'am." His face remained grim.
Of all the places in the world to be walking into on a Friday night that was overcast, Samantha found herself inside a very secured apartment. With metal bars on the windows, and no form of escape apart from the door, it wasn't exactly in close familiarity with a bar. Naturally, she scowled upon walking in and wished more than ever that her lonesome bed would suck her out of the god awful place and into a comfortable bedroom.
"I'm not a criminal, Miss Swan," was the first line Adriana heatedly threw across to the blonde. Springing up from the distasteful looking red chair in the far corner, her eyes were bloodshot. The brunette looked entirely displaced. With her sophisticated appearance.
"Guilty until proven innocent," Samantha wandered over to the bookcase containing a volume of the Oxford Dictionary. "That's the rule I live by. Didn't get into this job because of my looks," she presented to the older woman who considered her with the mellowest brown eyes. "I know a criminal when I see one. Especially one trying to hide a lot of dark secrets."
Adriana merely gazed back at the blonde coolly. Wiping her palms upon that awfully sexy satin piece of clothing, the brunette sighed. "I thought that a woman like you would sympathize with me."
"Lady, I don't sympathize with anybody until they give me good reason to," Swan stated, as she leaned onto the bookcase with her arms folded. She considered the older woman warily. "So start moving down the list."
Something, however, flashed in those brown orbs and the sight of it unsettled Samantha. For a moment, she stood there in silent consideration and wondered if perhaps a monster could ever inhabit the glorious form of the woman standing in front of her. But then, many times it had been easily proven. That monsters didn't only hide themselves behind rugged men and beefy women. Demons could be found twisting behind the façade of the prettiest woman who possessed the most glorious body any god could have sculpted to torment any human's sanity.
"050-134-245," Adriana's stare never faltered. "You were born in Maine. Was raised in St. Ann's Orphanage until you were 16. By then night school presented a challenge financially. You worked at Joey's Burgers as a waitress for a while and then successfully enlisted in the Police Academy. With hopes," the brunette reveled in the younger woman's astonished countenance, "of becoming lieutenant one day. Today, you're the lead officer at the NYPD Drugs Investigation Unit..."
"Stop it..." Samantha barely whispered with her green eyes as wide as saucers. "What the hell are you..."
"You're divorced. Living at 24 East and 4th," Adriana continued with the same cool charisma that entertained no malice. "Guilty until proven innocent, you say to me? What about the secrets under your hood, Miss Swan? Although you're now an officer of the law, you've been exactly in the same trade I was forced into. Drugs. Your ex-husband Cassidy, was it?"
"I said stop it," Samantha said through her teeth. Her fists were clenched eventually. How on earth could such a wealth of information fall into the hands of...then again, evidently when the right persons were squeezed, anything could leak out.
"He was in prison, served a sentence for..." the brunette lightly ran an index finger along the back of the dusty looking red chair, "what was it? Smuggling gold watches and cocaine. And you were no doubt part of the agreement."
"I had nothing to do with any of it!" Samantha regrettably defended herself as audibly as ever. Head pounding, she couldn't believe what had slipped through those poisonous red lips. From a woman who had moments ago, been considerably quiet but deadly like a snake about to strike. "That's none of your business anyway. What the hell are you doing?"
Now, Adriana smiled. She gleefully enjoyed the grand effect on the blonde. "I've been tasked with following you for a long time now. Do you recall the four deaths within a stone's throw from The Dividers? Four years ago?" that smile was so sweet and deadly now.
Samantha feared that the devil was perhaps shedding his skin bit by bit before her very eyes. "How could I forget? I've been assigned to the case since then."
"Nobody digs into the Red X Cartel without going unnoticed," Adriana studied her finely polished red nails. "Especially a police officer who refuses to back down until she unearths the truth."
"Did Machavano tell you to spy on me?" Samantha's heart was thudding wildly in her chest. From out of fear and anxiety. It was like finally being able to peep into Pandora's Box, and all its twisted contents. "Because if he did, then that's no surprise. We've been trying to bust his ass for a long time now. Don't expect me to feel sorry for what happened."
"I don't expect you to feel sorry for any of this," Adriana settled herself upon the arm of the chair, quite tentatively of course. Her grace was delectably fashioned to resemble someone of substantial upbringing. "Frankly, I am entirely pleased that you finally managed to. He is a savage beast who dwells on the weaknesses of others. He uses them carelessly and heartlessly to do his dirty jobs. I, on the other hand, am not a part of any of his operations."
"And you're his wife?" Samantha scoffed, walked coolly to the window and by acknowledging the bump of the holster upon her right hip, somehow she felt safer. Not in terms of the availability of a weapon to defend herself against the woman seated merely a couple feet away. No. This wasn't about her. Because the blonde didn't view Adriana as a threat.
Why? For a very long time, perhaps since the age of 12 or younger, Samantha had a very unique gift of detecting two things from anyone. If they were lying and the level of danger they posed in the situation at present. In terms of the first, Adriana had clearly produced the truth without holding back. She appeared to be willing enough to sabotage her husband at any costs, just so that an easy path forward would be available. Fair enough. After what Neal had dragged Swan into, she could literally feel the brunette's frustration and pain. Perhaps a little too much.
On the other hand, Adriana's probability to become quickly dangerous was evident in that early flash within brown eyes. She had a very quick and burning temper that had been trained to subdue within a few seconds. Which pretty much proved to Swan that the woman had been extensively pushed to limits that not only managed to break every single piece of her into shards, but also limits that forced her to adapt in order to survive. Whether that training extended to someone else who guided the brunette, Samantha wasn't sure. It could be possible that Machavano had been the teacher. And if he had, then Samantha could be in the same room with a highly dangerous assassin who could kill her without the use of a weapon.
"Yes I am his wife. I am also his slave. He had done nothing but degrade my existence. To him I am worthless and a side piece. How many times have I showed up on your radar as a potential threat?" Adriana was seated on the chair appearing as regal and composed as ever. Yet her voice faltered a little. "All you know of me, is that I am his wife."
"Don't try to play mind games with me," Samantha warned, turning sideways a little but still maintaining a cool gaze into the night. New York never slept. "Anyone who thinks that you're not as guilty as he is, they're just kidding themselves."
"He abused me," Adriana said suddenly in a softer tone. "I have scars on my body to pose as evidence."
Samantha flinched inside. She could literally feel her heart becoming twisted from the very thought of it. Scars on a beautiful woman? A woman who probably fought tooth and nail to come up alive, maybe? To stay alive? No matter what, abuse to her was the devil's work. Played by his hands to belittle and embarrass, whilst attempting to strip someone of their decency. Men, like Machavano was the exact kind to degrade and not give a fuck about it. To kill and sleep like a baby at nights.
He had managed to pluck a very pretty wife off of the market, and instead of treating her like royalty, the bastard inflicted wounds that left scars. She didn't need proof to believe what Adriana had said to her. A woman didn't lie about something like that. Because why would she lie about a man beating the shit out her? To be pitied? To appear weaker? When in a matter of all honesty, the regality displayed thus far proved that Adriana was trying her best to appear modest. Since her arrest, the brunette had displayed nothing but composure that was admirable. To the younger woman, she appeared so dignified and graceful, her strength resonated and shone outwards with the kind of glow that deserved respect.
"If I am to prove my innocence to spare myself from a death sentence, then let me." She was pleading now. It wasn't of the most genuine quality since Swan detected a strain in the brunette's tone. But it was effective because her words were only the truth.
"Honestly, you don't have to say anything as yet. You haven't been charged with anything." Samantha relaxed a little and suitably turned around so that their eyes could fully meet. What she presented was a look of sympathy. "We're just holding you here because you're his wife. In the law's eyes, you're as guilty as he is because of your relationship to him. You could be an accomplice."
"And to you?" Adriana's brown orbs widened a little. She was hopeful. "Do you think of me as a horrible person?"
The blonde on the other hand, absorbed the way she was being looked at as a mild form of flirtation. "Hell, I don't even know," Samantha shoved her hands into her pockets and smiled a little. She shrugged. "Like you said, I've been on this case for years now. Four to be exact. What I definitely know is that Machavano is guilty as fuck. He's going to prison for a long time. Might even get the death penalty. You on the other hand. You could get off without substantial evidence. No matter how you twist or turn this, Mrs. Perez..."
"Adriana," the brunette said instantly. Her fingers were laced together. "Call me that. I want to have no affiliation to him."
Samantha swallowed. First name basis always proved that certain connections were cemented that could be advantageous. "Adriana. No matter how you twist or turn this, you're an accomplice though." First name basis also could be lethal. In this case, reducing herself to the older woman's level by lacking formality could sway the situation into a dangerous path.
"I am not an accomplice, Miss Swan," the older woman said stiffly. "I have been forcefully married to a man who is the devil himself incarnated. What has been brought upon me is not fair. No one can expect me to accept a sentence that is unjust. When I have not been the slightest involved in any of his operations."
"Then why were you there tonight?" Samantha asked without holding back. Trying to be a wise ass, huh? Well her sexiness wouldn't create the kind of haze thick enough to conceal her guilt in. Not so fast.
Adriana, however, sighed. "It is our wedding anniversary. And although he doesn't care about me, he has invited me for a drink every single year on this day. Just to celebrate our unfortunate union," she smiled as if to compel the blonde into believing that sarcasm was lacing every single word uttered.
"You hungry?" Samantha ignored the questions buzzing around in her head.
Coincidence that she had been within the washroom tonight? Swan didn't believe in those at all. Not forgetting the honest confessions to a police officer. Which woman who was being held for involvement in a drug cartel would divulge so much information all at once? Savory would be proud. If not jealous of the dangerously growing bond between Samantha and Machavano's wife. And now as she studied the older woman gracefully rising up from the chair, Swan noticed that she appeared fatigued.
"Would you mind if I made a quick call to check on my brother?" Adriana asked, seeking out Samantha's eyes for emphasis. "He's staying in my house for the weekend. I'd like to let him know where I am."
"Can't do, hun," Samantha licked her lips. "He'll see the arrest made on the news, put two and two together and know where you are."
"Please, as a prisoner. Am I not allowed one phone call? Spare me the dramatics." The older woman awaited the verdict.
For two minutes, brown eyes latched onto emerald ones as a silent debate invaded Samantha's mind. What felt like a wrong move couldn't be that devastating, could it? What would the brunette do? Phone her way out of the safe house? Would she ring up the aliens to zap her out of the apartment? Savory would throw a fit if she ever found out. But frankly, Swan didn't give a fuck about Savory.
So she handed Adriana the burner the NYPD had gifted to her. "Go ahead. One call. I'm listening. And if I hear any funny business, you're going to regret it."
"You'll spank me?" the brunette teased with a smile? "For bad behavior?" She folded her arms and waited,
"More like aim my gun at you and count to three," the blonde replied without humor. "You're not my type anyway," she mumbled, turning around and heading back to the window. What was this? Kind of like one of those crime thrillers that spiraled into a romantic one night stand in a beat up safe house on the outskirts of town?
The sound of buttons being pushed filled the room. "It's a pity that you're exactly my type, Miss Swan," came Adriana's hoarse reply that of course, immediately floored the younger woman.
Her eyes widened on the view below the window, never quite registering any of the action unfolding outside. What seemed like reality, gently dissolved into a sparkly kind of feeling that created tiny shoots of nerves through her chest. And clearing her throat, Swan ignored the line.
"Hello? Hi, it's Adriana, my love. Yes. I am alright. Still in the Bronx, I'm afraid." A pause. There was the sound of someone on the other end although his words were muffled from the distance where Samantha had planted herself. "Yes. Remember to check the security system. You can go ahead and play your video game. It's safe now since I'm not there. Make sure you win for me. Goodbye."
For some odd reason, when Adriana ended the call, Samantha felt her skin prickle a little. Why, she had no clue. Perhaps it was the manner in which the older woman had conducted the conversation? She hadn't informed her brother of the current situation. By then, he had to have heard of the showdown and arrest. So why was there no mention of it? And then the funny part about playing his video game since she wasn't there?
Something didn't settle right in Swan's chest as she accepted the mobile and realized that Adriana refrained from making deliberate eye contact. However, their fingers brushed lightly and the reaction exposed from the mere gesture on the brunette's part was perhaps a little too much for Samantha to process. Because Adriana clearly made an attempt to collect the blonde's fingers into her warm ones with the mobile snugly in between their grasp. And she allowed their hands to stay that way for a few seconds before letting go.
Samantha was puzzled until she recalled the older woman's last words to her. But then, it wasn't right. It wasn't justifiable to suddenly meet someone, especially in this kind of circumstance and develop any kind of feelings for them. Was it not unusual? And besides, look at the situation they had become tangled into. One that wasn't too pleasing. A drug bust. A safe house. A gun on her hip and that god awful beautiful satin piece on the other woman. The purring hoarse quality of her voice. Samantha's shaky hands.
"You know, I'm not gay," Swan decided to clear the air. Now she was the one who had waltz back to the window without attempting to seek out a chance to have their eyes meet. "Just so you know. And if you happen to be, or if you're into men and women, then that's fine. I'm not the kind to judge."
"I'll delightfully accept your earlier offer on food arrangements," Adriana deflected from the blonde's statement. "I'm famished."
She stared at the mobile in her hand for a long time, perhaps wounded a little by being cut off like that. Even as the wind drifted through the barred window and chilled Samantha a little, she wondered about her obviously strange feelings and chose not to dwell on the moment any longer. Because why the hell would she dwell on those feelings? It was ridiculous. Totally absurd.
"Lemme guess," Swan began to dial the number on the lit up board from the place across the street, "a salad for you, right?"
"Yes. Nothing else."
"How will you run on that whole night? God knows when you're getting out of here. Why not get a burger?" She had chosen to turn around and now was immediately regretting it.
"Stop caring about me," Adriana said warily.
Just to cast her eyes on Adriana's face with her lovely brown eyes could be a dangerous crime in itself. Because the lady was seated there with the composure of a queen although also appearing really adorable. She had the kind of face that Swan would never in a million years become unfamiliar with. The kind of voice that seeped into Samantha's mind and stole a place inside her memory. And even if she was not claiming to be gay, the blonde was beginning to realize the kind of persuasive powers a woman like Adriana could distribute on a cop like herself.
"I'm human. Of course I'd care about someone in a situation like this. Sure my job requires me to believe the worst in you. But you're being honest with me and I can't hate you for that," Samantha admitted, hands planted on her hips.
Within a few seconds though, her mobile began to beep loudly and taking the call, the blonde moved a little further into the room as she welcomed the Chief's greetings.
"It's bad news," he said immediately, and perhaps sounding pissed and relieved at the same time. "Are you still with the wife?"
"Yeah," Samantha glanced at Adriana and bit her lips.
"Say nothing. Just listen to me," his tone was reduced to a softer one that remained gruff. "A man posing as one of our own, just compromised the security at headquarters. He got in far enough to put a bullet between Machavano's eyes." Samantha, although trying to mute her reaction, stared out into the night and couldn't believe it. "He's dead. Someone put a mark on him about thirty minutes ago and now it all seems that everything has been..." but his words suddenly drifted into a muffled babbling as Samantha's ears began to ring.
Her hands suddenly felt as cold as ice. The oxygen in the room although the window was wide open had been minimized. Because thirty goddamn minutes ago, Adriana had made that call using the burner phone. And thirty minutes after, her husband was shot execution style. And Samantha didn't believe in coincidences. She should have trusted her gut, knowing very well that something had been really off about that call the brunette made to her 'brother'. And now, as the call with the chief ended, she suddenly felt the room grow so cold, even her blood was turning to ice.
What perhaps might be the first explosive encounter in a chain of life changing events, began with the older woman suddenly appearing behind the blonde. Within the split of a second, Samantha was sandwiched between the metal bars on the window and a woman who was burning up with a burst of adrenaline behind her. What she felt was an all time high rise of her blood pressure and the switch into fight mode when Adriana expertly pulled the gun out of Swan's holster. And then backing away, the connection between their bodies was broken.
Samantha spun around, ready for combat and when their eyes met, tears were collected in brown ones.
"I will not shoot you," Adriana said through her teeth. Enough color rested on those cheeks to signal that she had become too flustered. "Miss Swan, I have gained your trust and I do not wish to lose it. However, I can see the doubt in your eyes. I know what that conversation was about. He is dead."
"Just...give me the gun," Samantha said in a level tone with her hands up from the elbows. "Then we can talk." Goddammit. Fucking hell. This wasn't supposed to happen.
"I can't do that. It gives me an advantage over you." She sounded so robotic now, it was frightening. However, those brown eyes still remained soft from tears. "I know that the entire NYPD now believes that I did it. That I killed him. But I didn't. Someone else did me a goddamn favor."
"Why the hell would you even take it upon yourself to do something like that?" Samantha asked in astonishment. "I get that he's hurt you but even if you were innocent in all of this, what just happens proves that you're a killer. When you made that call, you did something. Didn't you? You gave whoever it was, the okay to go ahead."
Adriana's chest heaved. She still held up the gun though. "I beseech you to study the facts here. I did not shoot him. I was merely briefed on what would transpire. My husband has many hateful acquaintances who wanted him dead for a long time now. One of them could just as well have made that call. The list is too long for your department to go through but I am not to be thrown on that list because of my relation to him."
"A vengeful wife who hates his guts gives you enough motive," Samantha provided with raised eyebrows. "When a man pisses off a woman, we are capable of thinking the worst things because of heartbreak. And I get it. I get that you hated him and you wanted him dead. But you can't just pull my own gun on me, man. I stood here and I listened to you. I was beginning to believe that you had some good in you. And now all I'm seeing is a woman who is trying to use the trust we have to force me into believing a lie."
They stared at each other.
Somewhere outside the door, Willis was probably nodding off and leaving everything to chance. Now, as she studied Adriana's face, there was no way in hell the brunette did not initiate that execution. She had done something that warranted wrath from the NYPD, because they had big plans for Machavano. Like torturing him until he croaked out all the big ones in the Red X Cartel. The chief along with Savory wanted to grind him into the ground. Now they had nothing. It was like starting all over again.
But could it be that Adriana had done what she did to perhaps create a purposeful dead end for the pending investigation? Could be.
"Give me the gun," Samantha said, taking tentative steps towards the brunette whilst locking their eyes.
"You have to let me go, Miss Swan," the brunette said, never backing down.
"I can't let you go," Swan said in a softer voice that was the result of a hurricane of feelings in her chest. "You know I can't."
"You will."
"Adriana, I can't. I'm an officer. I'm not your friend," and then when Samantha had said those words, she regretted them because that flash ignited again in those brown eyes. It was like a little fire that burned and stung.
Within a span of four seconds, what transpired between the two of them would perhaps alter the blonde's belief in the brunette for a while. Believing that she would be able to settle the situation into a normal place again, Swan's hands folded around the gun. Her fingers wrapped around Adriana's cold ones, now trembling. What she felt was sheer adrenaline rushing through her veins that sparked up an intrigue and interest in Adriana which felt severely immoral. And then, even as those feelings were in check, the brunette used the advantage and pulled Samantha. She twisted the blonde around so that she locked Samantha in her arms with the gun pressed to blonde hair just spilling out from the younger woman's right temple.
"Fuck. Don't," Swan squeezed her eyes shut and awaited the obvious. She struggled within the older woman's grasp, feeling their bodies gingerly grind together. And as hard as she mustered up the strength to ignore it, the sensations travelling through her were too natural to erase.
Adriana's warm breath was caressing her left ear now. "I wouldn't kill you. I keep my promises."
"Then what the hell are you doing?" Samantha demanded to know, fighting within the tight grip on her midsection and limbs.
However, the brunette chuckled. "I want you to get me safely out of here. If you only sabotage me, I will knock you unconscious. Do you understand?" Adriana wrapped her fingers around the blonde's throat and proceeded to apply just enough pressure.
Samantha nodded, realizing how powerful the older woman was and hating herself for underestimating it. She couldn't even apply any defensive technique on Adriana because the woman had her finger on the trigger. And although she had promised not to kill her, Samantha didn't believe that. She couldn't believe anything escaping through the lips of a woman desperate to escape police custody.
Then there was the incredible power in Adriana's body that stunned her. For even as Samantha tried to twist around, it was entirely difficult to even accomplish moving an inch. The brunette had one leg twisted around the blonde's right calf, preventing her from moving and she suddenly felt so compelled to resort to surrender that it wasn't dignifying. Samantha felt driven to a weaker stance that frustrated her entirely because she had been trained. She was sufficiently capable of flooring even Andrew in a round of boxing, or lifting weights. And this one woman had managed to suck all her dominance out of her.
What seemed like a nightmare ensued as Adriana led them both to the door. A tear slipped down Samantha's cheek as she asked Willis in the softest monotone voice to relieve himself from the door to stretch his legs a bit. To run across the street and grab a burger for her.
It was a dangerous fire within those brown eyes though. It was frightful. And when Samantha's legs tripped over the steps whilst heading downwards, the brunette's tight hold on her was still maintained. The gun remained upon the side of her neck now, and the mouth felt cold. So cold. She wondered if maybe Jordan would ever see her again. If the heart of the woman holding her hostage could even have a sliver of consideration within to abort all of this.
"You're shaking like a leaf in a high wind," Adriana kicked open the door and led them outside into a deserted alleyway that reeked of stale garbage. Somewhere, a cat yowled and a heavy rat shuffled out of view. The brunette finally allowed her grasp on Samantha to slacken. "You're free to go," she suddenly said, breathless and smiling.
Swan stumbled a few steps forward after being released and then she weakly turned around. Their eyes met. Emerald ones contained the purest kind of bewilderment and then anger. Angry that she could have ever believed in any promising word this bitch had uttered to her in that closed space upstairs. Angry that she was beginning to feel something new. Something delirious and stupid and impure. For a heartless woman.
"You're a monster," Samantha threw between then through her teeth. "You have no feelings, do you? What you just did?" Breathless too, the blonde's chest heaved. "It was something a sane person wouldn't do. You're out of your mind crazy. And..."
"I'm not a monster," Adriana had been hanging onto every single word. The fire began to fade in her eyes. "And I'll prove it to you. You'll see eventually."
"You've got one last chance to get the hell back up there," Samantha warned. She gestured onto the building, high rising and looming above. Small shadows danced across the alleyway. A cat crawled into view and then disappeared.
Adriana, however, began to shake her head. "I'm not going back up there, Miss Swan. I'm going to walk away."
"Do you know how much trouble I'll be in if you do that?" The blonde was staring as her mind raced with thoughts. Of facing the chief and Savory's long, pitiful face whilst Swan packed her things into cardboard boxes.
The DIU would never be able to display the respect upon their faces that had been earned over the last four years. The officers assigned to her, even Andrew might be ashamed of her mere existence. Of allowing a potential killer and accomplice to escape with her weapon? They would never trust her again on a further case.
"You're a really attractive woman," Adriana was taking slow steps in the blonde's direction now. The gun was held loosely in her right hand. "I hate that you ended up in the mix. I wanted Savory to come on over so we could play. Not you. God no. Not you at all. I was hoping to meet you some other time. But alas, fate is a bitch."
Samantha stared at her in shock. She was well informed. Then if she was aware of Savory's identity and hers, Adriana had to have been fully aware of other things too. Like the plans they had been mapping out to corner her husband. The men they squeezed information from on the streets; their trusted confidantes. And if she had all this information available then it was not entirely possible that Machavano had really underestimated his wife's power in authority.
She could possibly be the next most dangerous mafia boss in the city because she was a woman with a broken heart and equipped with enough malice from his abuse.
"Bye bye, Samantha", Adriana said with a maddening smile as there was only but a foot between them. "Until we meet again."
"What are you going to..." But the brunette's hand with the gun came down too fast on her. She felt a sharp pain and then the world went black, fading into nothing for a long time.
Review for more!