I yell into my radio, “Officer down. Repeat, officer down. Ambulance and immediate backup needed.”
The warehouse doors are kicked open, the voices of my brothers in blue and their racing footsteps echoing from all sides. I’m not alone, but it sure feels that way.
Joey’s trying to form words, words garbled from the blood oozing from his mouth.
I wrench off my jacket, bunching it and pressing it against his wounds, yelling at him to stay with me. But when I look down, Tess’s face looks up.
It’s her broken body, her blood, her eyes fading into death, her hand lifting toward my face.
“Curran!” she cries.
“Curran!”
—
“Curran!” Tess’s voice snaps me out of sleep; so does her grip on my arm.
“Oh, God,” she says, her thin arms reaching for me.
I snatch her to me, pulling her tight, breathing hard.
Her hands smooth down my back. “It’s okay. I’m all right. I’m all right,” she repeats, struggling to take a breath.
I loosen my hold on her, only because I’m afraid I’m killing her.
Killing her.
Jesus.
She died in my arms because I failed to do my job. Just like I failed Joey. My arms go numb, and I sense her and reality slip away.
“Baby, stay with me,” she whispers. “Everything is okay. You’re all right.”
No. I’m not. In my dream, Tess’s blood soaked my knees as it seeped out of the holes in her back. It painted my face red when she reached up to touch me and tell me goodbye. “No.”
“No? No what, sweetie?” she asks, keeping her voice soft.
“You weren’t all right,” I answer her.
“Curran…” She sweeps her lips over my crown. “Do you want to talk about it? Maybe tell me what happened?”
Tell her what happened? Tell her how the bullets punctured her delicate skin—and how her eyes glazed over with death? How about I tell her that all I did was watch, since it was all I could fucking do?
She felt heavy in my arms. Dead weight? Is that what they call it?
My eyes sting as I grip her hips, but it’s Tess who cries. “Baby, tell me how to help you.”
Her heart breaks right then and there as I hold her. She wants to help; she just doesn’t know how.
But I do.
I place her on her back and bend to kiss her eyelids. “Don’t cry,” I tell her. “Please don’t cry.” I pass my thumbs beneath her eyes, wiping the tears moistening her cheeks as my lips press against her forehead, her nose, her chin.
I wait for her to settle, then slide my hand down the center of her chest before returning to knead each breast. Tess covers my hand with hers on my second pass, keeping it in place. “I don’t want to be just someone you have sex with,” she says. “I want to help.”
“This helps,” I tell her, truthfully.
She seems sad, like she doesn’t understand, so I do my best to explain. “I’m not good with words. But when I’m with you, I don’t need them. I only need to know you’re here, and real, and safe.”
Slowly, Tess drops her hand away. “This will help you?” she asks.
I nod, feeling myself get hard. “Yeah. It will.”
She shifts her body and lets her legs fall open. “Then let me help you.”
I lower myself on top of her and find her lips with mine. My fingers drag down her body. Against her soft skin, my world is less harsh. In her breaths, I find the air to fill my lungs, and in her warmth, the coldness fades, and I become alive.
There isn’t time to play.
I need her, and everything she gives me.
Jesus, my body is starved for her.
I reach between us and push inside of her, causing her spine to bow and a gasp to break our kiss. I cup her face, locking on to her sea-glass eyes as my hips withdraw and plunge.
Back. Thrust.
Back. Thrust.
Back. Thrust.
My eyes drill into hers and my hips pound. Her fingers clench my shoulders as the heat between her legs builds, slicking me, inviting me to go faster. I tilt her head forward, bringing her face and that expression of shock mixed with lust closer to mine.