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Chapter 05: The Fight
Stephanie Mitchell was pissed. No two ways about it.
“So, basically what you’re saying is, you don’t trust me.”
She put her fork down on the table and crossed her arms.
Jerry struggled with his patience. They’d been talking about it for 30 minutes and he had been unable to get through to her. He’d expected this conversation to happen at some point — a police sergeant dating the editor of the local paper was bound to cause some problems, even if it was still a secret.
Things had been good — too good. These angry emotions were new for them to confront, but given how intense their reactions in every other good department, it made sense for their first fight to be just as intense.
But he was investigating a case and Stephanie wanted details — details that he was unable to provide, even off the record.
He took a sip of his drink and tried once more.
“Stephanie, this information is classified. Do you realize what that means? That means I am bound by my oath as an officer of the law to not reveal it as it could compromise an investigation and/or any eventual case or verdict,” he said.
“I’m not asking you as a reporter. I’m asking you as me,” she said.
He brought his hand down on the table in anger.
“It doesn’t matter who you are. I can’t tell you. And if this is going to work between us, you’re going to have to accept there are things I can’t always tell you,” he said.
“But why? If you know I won’t tell anyone, why does it matter?” she said.
He got up from the table in frustration.
“Ok, since clearly breaching my ethical responsibilities isn’t enough of a reason for you, let me try it another way,” he said.
“Let’s just say someone finds out about you and me — which is going to happen one of these days, I promise you,” Jerry said.
“The police officer is dating the editor of the paper who just so happens to be writing about crimes covered by said police officer’s department,” he said.
“Ok,” she said.
“You’re a smart woman, Stephanie. What do you think the first question my chief is going to ask you, and me?” he said.
She paused.
“He’s going to ask us if I ever gave you classified information,” Jerry said.
“And if I haven’t, I can answer him honestly. Because I won’t be able to lie,” he said, arms crossed. He could see he still wasn’t making any headway.
And in his irritation, before he could stop himself, he said, “Maybe you’re ok with lying like that, but I’m not. Some of us have different ethical standards than others.”
“Nice, Jerry. Really fucking nice. I get it, I’m a member of the media so I’m a soulless, empty asshole,” she said, blinking
“Now, wait a minute, I didn’t say…,” he started, but she put her hand up.
“I think we’re done here for tonight. Why don’t you just go?” she said.
He could see she was blinking back tears and was pissed off at himself for saying that, but he was also pissed off at her for her stubbornness that drove him to that level of frustration.
“Yes, it’s probably better I go for now so we don’t say anything we regret,” he said.
“You mean anything else, right?” she said, walking away from him.
“Good night, Jerry,” she whispered.
“Steph..,” he said.
“Just go,” she said.
He let himself out, sad and confused.
++++++
Days later, Stephanie woke from a restless sleep. It was Monday. The day she’d have to see him again. They had not spoken in the days since Jerry had left. She was profoundly hurt by what he had said. For him to think she was unethical cut her to the core. But she also knew she had been wrong to push him on the classified information. She was putting him to some kind of unreasonable test that wasn’t fair.
She knew he probably spoke out of a place of anger but still. It was hard to hear. She wasn’t ready to call or text. She felt it was up to him. And now he was doing a media presentation of the new shooting range at the police station. The only way she could get through it was to look as good as possible and try to play it cool.
She got up and brushed her teeth. She looked at her tired face in the mirror. The stress had been getting to her. Looking good was going to be easier said than done.
+++++
Jerry arrived at work at 9, both stressed about the media presentation and excited. He’d missed her so much. Maybe this was the ice breaker they both needed. They both had a streak of Irish stubbornness that made them unable to break down and reach out to one another. It helped that they both knew this day was coming, so neither one of them technically had to. But still, it had been so hard for him to hold out.
“Hey, Rafferty. You’re looking worse for wear today,” his chief said as he headed to his desk.
“Thanks, Chief. I’m all right. Haven’t been sleeping well,” Jerry said.
“You ready for today?” the chief asked.
Chief Tom Farmer had been on the force for over 30 years and had worked alongside Jerry’s father. He was tough but kind. Aside from his father, Farmer almanbahis adresi had taught Jerry everything he’d ever needed to know about police work.
“I’m ready, Chief,” Jerry said.
“So who is coming?” the chief asked.
“Um, Mike Delvicchio from that stupid news website. Someone from the next town over’s daily paper. Not sure who yet…,” Jerry said.
“Oh, and Stephanie…Stephanie Mitchell,” he said, looking down, feeling guilty, “from the Bugle.”
Farmer sensed something but dismissed it as Rafferty’s lack of sleep.
“Ok, let’s get the range set up for company,” he said.
++++++
Stephanie, wearing a short grey dress and heeled boots, counted to three before she got out of the car. She realized too late that this was probably a bad idea. She was going to feel emotional seeing him after the last encounter and now it would be for an audience.
But it was too late now. Time to face the music. She parked the car in the station’s parking lot, took a deep breath, grabbed her purse, notebook and pen, and headed inside.
She saw Mike Delvecchio in the lobby waiting. Delvecchio was Stephanie’s longest-running competitor. He edited the local version of the Daily, a chain of news websites that aimed for hits and not quality. Delvecchio wasn’t a bad journalist, Stephanie begrudgingly admitted, but in his quest to beat the Bugle in breaking news Mike sometimes went a little too tabloid, too controversial.
“Hey, Mitch,” he said, using his nickname that stuck years ago. She was sort of fond of it. It had an old-fashioned newsroom vibe.
“Hey, Mike. How are ya?” she said.
“Not bad. Waiting for Sgt. Rafferty. I already let him know I was here,” he said.
She glanced out the window.
“Cool,” she said.
A few minutes later she heard the door open that separated the lobby and the inner part of the station. She forced herself to look over and caught Jerry’s eye — as briefly as possible. She felt his eyes run over her. It was impossible not to.
He moved quickly to Mike and shook his hand.
“Hey guys, come on in. The other dude isn’t here yet but we can start without him,” Jerry said. So we can get this overwith, he said to himself. This was going to be more stressful than he thought.
They got to the indoor shooting range and saw the chief.
Stephanie stuck out her hand.
“Hey there, Chief Farmer,” she said. He shook it.
“How’s it going, Stephanie?” he asked.
“Not bad,” she said. She always had liked the chief.
“Hey, Mike,” he said, acknowledging Delvecchio less warmly. There had been a recent arrest and accusation of overzealous police force that Mike had gotten a little carried away with. Chief Farmer wasn’t one to trust easily and once it was broken, it was broken.
“Ok, Jerry, let’s get this show on the road,” the chief said. In the meantime, the other nameless reporter from the nearby daily paper had shown up. They gave him a cursory nod. The staff at that paper changed so often there was no point in getting acquainted.
“Ok, you guys ready?” Jerry asked.
Stephanie nodded, her back against the wall. Arms folded.
Their eyes met and held for a moment — too long. Long enough for their eyes to say they were sorry. To say “I miss you.” Long enough for her to feel relief and warmth and…something else. Long enough and quiet enough that the chief noticed.
“Jerry?” he said.
It was just long enough to break them both, but Jerry got back on his game.
He snapped into informative mode to distract him from her vibe in the room, now that she was staring at him in a different way. He talked about the features of the electronic shooting range, its practice benefits, and how it helped the officers learn to cope with surprise without being in actual danger.
“So, you going to show us a real live demonstration?” Mike said.
Oh, God, no, Stephanie thought to herself. There was no way for her to watch him shoot a gun for the first time right at that moment. She was too raw. Too emotional. Too tired and too vulnerable.
“What do you say, Chief?” Jerry said, completely aware of what it would do to her, and suddenly — absolutely into doing it.
“Sure, why not?” the chief said.
Jerry set up the back ground on the shooting range with a standard target, hit the button to make it slide further away.
“You guys should stand back against that wall,” he said.
Stephanie’s heart was already racing and his eyes on hers did not help. Her exhaustion was making it hard to breathe.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said, his eyes locked with hers.
Mike stopped for a minute and eyeballed the two of them. He had that reporter’s sense nudged — there was something more than was meeting the eye. But he wasn’t sure what. He kept watching.
Jerry put his safety glasses on. He stood before the threshold of the range.
Stephanie leaned her back against the wall because her knees were so weak. She wanted to run. Drop her notebook and take off. She could not watch him shoot his gun right now. She almanbahis adres was cracked in half by her vulnerability and was unable to hide her physical reaction.
Jerry could feel the heat radiating from her and he tried to hide his smile. He knew he was messing with her, but after the pain they had both been through the last few days this was too good to not give in to. He just wanted to make them both feel better. Feel good. Really good.
He slowly pulled his Glock 23 .40 cal gun from his holster, glanced over at them, caught her eye again, and lifted his arms to aim.
Stephanie watched his movements, unable to handle it but unable to look away.
She watched his hands that had handled her so well, so skillfully, so tenderly and roughly, handle the gun.
The gun that he’d traced up her inner thigh. The gun that she’d touched with her tongue. She watched his finger tease the trigger.
She fought the urge to bite hard into her knuckle, watching his finger’s dancing tease.
Jerry let it hang a little longer, knowing he was torturing her and unable to stop himself. Knowing it was probably stupid but the good outweighed the bad.
Stephanie held her breath, waiting…..waiting…..waiting…..
BANG! The gun went off.
BANG. Stephanie dug her fingernails into her hand in a clenched fist. She tried not to gasp watching his finger work the trigger. Again. And again.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
“Hey, Mitch, you ok,” Mike asked.
“Uh…yeah….I just am feeling light-headed all of a sudden,” she whispered.
“Hey, Chief, Stephanie might need a chair or something,” Mike yelled.
“Rafferty, hold your fire!” the chief yelled.
Jerry took off his goggles and put his gun back in the holster.
“You ok, Stephanie?” the chief asked.
“Yes, I’m fine! I’m fine,” she said.
“She looked a little pale for a second, like she was gonna pass out,” Mike said.
“Hey, Chief, I’ve got this,” Jerry said, trying hard to sound casual.
“She probably just needs some water. Guys, I’m going to let this officer handle the demo for a moment while I get Stephanie some place she can sit down,” he said.
“Come on, Steph,” he said.
Mike, again, was on alert. There was an intimacy there that raised his flags. He watched.
The two of them walked out of the shooting range and it took all of Jerry’s self control to not take her hand. But he knew there was surveillance in every corner.
“Follow me,” he said.
She smiled to herself, walking behind him.
He swiped a security card and opened a door. He led her to his desk.
“Sit here. I’ll get you some water,” he said, looking into her eyes at his desk chair.
She searched his eyes.
“Thanks,” she said, smiling.
He walked out into the hall and went to the water cooler. Mike Delvecchio met him in the hallway.
“Mitch doing ok?” he asked, with more of a nosey air than Jerry liked.
“She’s fine. Just needed to sit down,” Jerry said, shorter than he intended.
“Good,” Mike said.
“Well, I better get her this water,” Jerry said.
“Ok,” Mike said.
Jerry walked away, uneasy but eager to get back to her.
+++++
The chief sat in the control room after the demo, after all the demonstration.
“Chief Farmer?”
He turned in his chair. Delvecchio. That bastard.
“Yes, Mike?” he said.
“Chief, have you noticed anything strange between Rafferty and Mitchell?” he said.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the chief said.
“Just a vibe. I don’t know. You think something could be going on between them?” Mike said.
“I’ve known Jerry Rafferty since he was born. I think I would be aware if something like that was going on,” Chief Farmer said.
“Why don’t you focus on reporting news instead of creating it — your specialty,” the chief said.
Mike smiled.
“Ok, Chief,” he said, smiling, and left the office. Chief Farmer knew that was not the end of it.
The chief turned to the surveillance cameras.
He watched Jerry give Stephanie the water. Watched her drink it and watched him crouch down before her in the chair and say something the chief did not need to hear to understand. He watched Jerry turn to leave — and watched Stephanie grab his arm, and him turn back. Farmer paused the camera.
Thirty-plus years of police work told him all he needed to know about the gesture.
“Jerry…. Jerry, what are you thinking?” he whispered to the camera.
++++ Stephanie drank the water and Jerry bent down before her to meet her eyes.
“You sure you are ok?” he said.
“Yes, you got me good though,” she said.
Jerry laughed softly. “I know, I’m sorry. I have just been so miserable the last few days and it just felt too good to feel your eyes on me like that,” he said, looking deep into hers.
Their eyes locked. Her invitation hot and unmistakable.
“Don’t do this to me now, Steph,” he said.
She didn’t look away.
He whispered.
“Keep looking at me like that and almanbahis adres I’m going to have to throw you up on this desk right now,” he said.
Stephanie smiled.
“Seriously! You need to get out of here before you get us both in trouble,” Jerry said.
He turned to leave.
“Wait,” Stephanie said, grabbing his arm.
“What?” he said, smiling.
“I…I miss you…,” she whispered.
“Me too, Steph,” he said. It took all his effort not to touch her cheek.
“I’ve got to get back to work. But I’m going to take you up on THAT,” he said, his eyes on hers.
“Soon,” he said.
She felt that weakness again.
“Ok….,” she said, smiling but annoyed at the mysteriousness of his promise.
+++++++
Later that night, Stephanie pounded away at her keyboard. It was late but she had hoped that work would take her mind off everything else.
Instead, all she could think about was the sound of that gun going off. BANG. Watching his finger tease the trigger.
She was always a little uneasy being in the office as late as she was, after being assaulted at one point when someone broke in. But she’d learned her lesson and kept the door locked.
She waited for a phone call or a text message from Jerry, but he was still being distant. It had been so good to see him that it didn’t even bother her. She was confident in how he felt about her. So if he wanted to wait, that was fine. Better, even.
It seemed almost at the moment she had that thought, there was a knock at the door. Her instinct was to panic. But then Stephanie thought better of it.
“Who’s there?” she said.
“It’s me, Steph,” she heard his voice say.
The movement of her fingers unlocking the door resonated deep within her.
She backed away from the door as he stepped inside. The lights were low. It was how she worked. He locked the door behind him.
He had changed from his uniform into a t-shirt and jeans, and her favorite, his backwards baseball hat.
“How did you know I was here?” she said.
“Lucky guess,” he said, smiling.
“Yes, because God forbid you actually call,” she said, smiling back.
“I was playing hard to get,” he whispered, walking toward her.
She bit her lower lip.
“And now?” she whispered.
“Now?” he said.
“Now, I’m just hard,” he said.
“Oh God,” she said.
She backed into her office, her back against the desk.
He lifted her onto the desk, hands on her hips. His mouth found hers.
Their kiss was deep and sweet and just relieved….relieved of the hurt, the pain, the agony of separation, the sweet relief made it so hot to feel his fingers in her hair, feel her fingers dig into his back, feel her drive her hips against him, feel them want each other so tight together.
So tightly she drove herself against him, their mouths working each other. He pulled her dress over her head.
His fingers pushed down the straps of her bra, finding her hot nipples with his fingers, and she heard him sigh in pleasure with the feeling. He pulled his mouth away from hers, not far, but far enough to whisper.
“You liked watching me shoot that gun?” he said, whispering into her mouth.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. Her hands sought him out, opened the button fly of his jeans, slowly.
She found him hard and eager for her.
“That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen,” she said.
“You liked watching my finger work the trigger…pump out those bullets?” he whispered.
Her breathing starting to get shallower, coming in gasps.
He pushed her back onto the desk. He pulled her panties down over her boots and dropped them to the floor.
“You know I was thinking about your clit when I was working that trigger, don’t you?” he said.
He moved his dick against her now, almost there. She wanted him to fuck her in his t-shirt and baseball hat on backwards. It was always that high school vibe that drove her crazy, that jock, that protector, the scent of testosterone and gun powder.
That gun powder.
She took his hand in hers and brought his fingers to her mouth. She could taste it. She took his thumb in her mouth as he slid himself all the way inside her. All the way.
“Oh, God, Stephanie,” he whispered.
It was so good.
“Bang me like that gun,” she whispered, working his thumb with her tongue.
He thrust slowly inside her, in and out, in and out, faster, faster, harder, and it was SO good. They’d both ached for this since that stupid fight. Just fuck it away, she thought. Fuck it all away.
“Harder, Jerry, harder,” she urged him.
He lifted her legs under his arms, holding onto the desk for leverage. She was so soaking wet. Her back arched on her desk, taking all he had to give.
“It’s …..so good….,” she looked into his eyes now. Not letting go of them.
“Yeah, baby. Come on,” she whispered.
“Don’t,” he said, trying to look away.
She lifted up and took his face in her hands.
“Come on baby,” she said.
“I want you to explode like that gun today,” she said.
“Oh God,” he said, but his body was ahead of his mind, and he went faster, faster. Harder. Her pussy was so hot, so wet. He’d missed it so much. Thought about it every night. Yeah, yeah, it was done. He was finished.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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