Rogue Alliance

THIRTY-THREE



“Hey. Hey. What are you doing still in bed?” Carmen asked, shaking Shyla’s shoulder, “it’s two in the afternoon. Wake up, lazy butt.”

“I’m not sleeping,” Shyla groaned, pulling the covers over her head, “I’m just refusing to get out of bed. Now go away and leave me alone.”

“But I have to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk. It’s Sunday. I just want to pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Now if you don’t mind, you can show yourself out the door. How did you get in anyway?”

“The door was unlocked. I walked in. You should really lock your doors,” Carmen said before the expression on her face suddenly shifted, “Oh my god! What happened to your neck? Are you okay?”

“Yes. No. I’m fine. Damn it, Carmen, why are you always in my face with a million questions?”

Carmen was oblivious to Shyla’s attitude.

“It looks like you were choked. Did someone attack you? Should I call 911?”

With a roll of her eyes Shyla tossed the covers aside and rolled out of bed.

“No,” she said, “and for god’s sake, don’t call anyone. I told you, I’m fine. I just have to pee.”

She stomped into the bathroom and closed the door. The bruising around her throat did look nasty. The blue and purple was now bordered with a yellowish tint as healing began.

She flushed the toilet and washed her hands then marched out in only a long t-shirt and underwear and slid back into the warmth of her bed. Carmen reached down and picked up an empty tequila bottle off the floor.

“Did you drink this whole thing?”

“Not all at once. Why are you still here?”

“Jeez, Shyla, you have bruises all over. What happened to you? I’m not going anywhere until you tell me.”

Shyla sighed and sat up against the headboard.

“Fine,” she said, “you wanna know what happened? I’ll tell you. I’m a cop. Not a secretary. A cop. I moved here to work on a case. That case went completely sideways and now I’m off the case. Meanwhile, I got tangled up with some crooked people and got beat the hell up. I shouldn’t even be telling you this. But you aren’t going to let up until I do, so what the hell. I’m leaving town next week anyway.”

Panic seized Carmen’s young features. She plopped on the side of the bed.

“You’re moving?”

Shyla averted her gaze.

“But you can’t leave,” Carmen continued, “I don’t care if you are really a cop! You can’t leave. Who cares about the case? You can do other cop stuff here. You don’t have to move.”

“I have to get out of this town,” Shyla sighed, “I failed here. Twice, now. I have bad mojo here.”

“I want you around. Please don’t give up, Shyla,” Carmen pleaded, “please don’t leave. You still have to teach me kung fu.”

The look on Carmen’s face was burdensome.

“You said you needed to talk to me,” Shyla said, “what did you want to talk about?”

“Um, oh, yeah,” Carmen said, blinking, “my mom wanted to invite you over for dinner later this week. I think you freaked her out the other day and she just wants to show you that she’s a good person.”

“Invite me for dinner?” Shyla laughed, “That’s the last thing I expected.”

“Come on. You could just come for a while. My mom never invites anyone over. Maybe this will change…I don’t know…maybe things will be different now.”

Shyla shook her head.

“I don’t know. I’ve got a lot going on. I need to get my life back on track.”

“Well, you don’t have to make up your mind right now. Just think about it.”

It was a lot to ask, but Shyla couldn’t refuse her.

“Okay, I’ll think about it. What’cha got in the bag there?”

Carmen looked down at the bag she had hanging from her left hand as if surprised it was there.

“Oh. Yeah. I brought you some doughnuts.”

Shyla cocked an eyebrow.

“Doughnuts? You brought me doughnuts in the middle of the afternoon?”

“Yep. They’re my favorite; the powdery ones with raspberry filling. I’ve been thinking about them all day so on the way over, I stopped by the mini-mart and grabbed a box. I thought you might like one.”

“Did you pay for them?”

Carmen looked insulted.

“Of course I paid for them. Jeez.”

Shyla held up her hands.

“Okay, okay, just asking. You know, I just happen to love a good doughnut. Hand over the bag and go get us some milk.”

With a gleaming grin, Carmen rushed out of the bedroom. Shyla felt a small smile creep on her face. What was it about this girl that made her so soft? As of an hour ago, her mind was made up that she would resign first thing Monday morning. She would face the music, pack up and start a new life somewhere she’d never been before.

Now, she was already promising a thirteen year old girl that she’d think about sticking around. She bit into the soft, powdery doughnut as Carmen returned with two full mason jars of milk.