Branded
Page 59
“What the hell is going on?” I ask again as panic starts to set in.
He doesn’t answer me, just pulls the radio off of Marcus’s shoulder, careful to keep the napkins in place.
“I should have left both of you a more detailed message,” he mumbles to himself. “Son of a fucking bitch.”
“Dax, you better fucking start explaining things or I’m going to kick your goddamn ass!” I shout.
He holds his finger up for me to wait and I almost grab onto it and twist it off his fucking hand.
He holds his thumb and a corner of the napkin over the press-to-talk button and starts talking rapidly.
“This is Detective Trevino, I’ve got a 10-00 and need back-up assistance at 743 Vine Street. I need an APB and BOLO for badge number 29763, last seen driving a city-issued police Taurus, license plate Boy King Mary Yellow 324. Armed and dangerous, possible female hostage, thirty-four years of age, over.”
He releases the button and I try to process what he’s saying.
Female hostage, female hostage, female hostage…
Static comes over the radio seconds later and a tinny female voice replies.
“Copy that. APB and BOLO have been processed. Do you need medical assistance for the 10-00, over?”
Dax glances at Marcus sadly. “Negative. Officer is DOA, over.”
“Copy that. Assistance is en route, ETA five minutes, over.”
“Copy.” Dax reattaches the radio to Marcus’s shoulder and tosses the bloody napkins onto the floor of the car. He backs away from the vehicle and immediately starts dialing his cell phone while I stand there, trying to make sense of what’s going on.
“I need deeds to any piece of property that Jackson Castillo and/or Anthony Giordano own. Text me the addresses as soon as fucking possible.”
He ends the call and finally looks at me. I can do nothing but shake my head back and forth.
“This isn’t happening. This is NOT fucking happening,” I whisper.
“Do you have any idea what direction they went in?” Dax asks.
I continue shaking my head, wondering how in the hell this could happen. I shouldn’t have let her leave. I shouldn’t have taken that fucking call and turned my back on her.
“I was on the phone. She left when I was on the phone. She fucking left while I was on the phone,” I repeat like a deranged idiot.
“This is all on me, do you understand? You had no way of knowing she shouldn’t go off alone with him,” Dax explains. “He’s one of my fucking own. I put him in charge of watching her, dammit.”
Pulling my fist back, I punch him right in the mouth, exactly like I wanted to do earlier. I shake out my hand as he shouts in pain, spitting a wad of blood out of his mouth and onto the sidewalk.
“I’ll let you have that one shot because I know you’re pissed, but that’s all you get. You do it again and I’m hauling your ass in for assaulting a police officer after I beat the fuck out of you!” Dax shouts at me as he holds the back of his hand against his busted lip.
My entire body shakes with rage and I see nothing but red. I don’t pay attention to his warning and I advance on him instead.
“What the fuck did you do? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO, ASSHOLE?” I scream, shoving my hands against his chest.
He stumbles backwards into the side of his vehicle and then, faster than I can come up with another insult, he’s got me turned around with my arms secured behind my back in the iron lock of his hands.
“Seriously, this is your last fucking warning!” he yells by my ear.
I struggle against his hold, but he just tightens it until my arms feel like they’re being ripped out of their sockets.
“Why does my guard dog have a hole in his head and why the fuck did you issue an APB and a BOLO for Jackson? TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED!”
He shakes me roughly to get me stop struggling and I pause for a moment to let my anger simmer so he’ll fucking speak. My brain has already caught up with all the shit happening around me, but I want to hear him fucking say it.
“I got an anonymous call earlier that there was someone on the inside making all those threats against you and Phina. Guy claimed he saw the person light the fire around the ambulance and cut the brake line on Finnley’s car. Even saw him tape a few notes to yours and Phina’s front doors,” Dax explains. “I didn’t want to believe it. I mean, for all I knew it was her fucking father calling it in trying to get us off of his tail, but I still had to look into it, just in case.”
I’ve already put two-and-two together and I don’t want to hear what he says next. I don’t want to know that everything I’m thinking about right now could be a reality.
“I never actually worked with Jackson. He’s a beat cop and I’m a detective, so our paths have never really crossed. My captain put out a few calls when Phina started receiving threats and the guy actually came to me and volunteered for the job. Told me some story about his cousin fucking up Phina’s best friend’s life and how he just wanted to do right by everyone for his family’s sake. I didn’t like it, but he came highly recommended from my captain. I trust that man, DJ. He was my fucking mentor at the police academy and he’s been like a father to me since I graduated. I had no solid reason to think Jackson was anything but on the up and up even if my gut didn’t agree. Besides, this city doesn’t exactly have the resources to put a full-time cop on glorified guard duty. Jackson was on personal leave and we already had another cop filling in for him at the station, so it seemed like the perfect solution on paper.
He doesn’t answer me, just pulls the radio off of Marcus’s shoulder, careful to keep the napkins in place.
“I should have left both of you a more detailed message,” he mumbles to himself. “Son of a fucking bitch.”
“Dax, you better fucking start explaining things or I’m going to kick your goddamn ass!” I shout.
He holds his finger up for me to wait and I almost grab onto it and twist it off his fucking hand.
He holds his thumb and a corner of the napkin over the press-to-talk button and starts talking rapidly.
“This is Detective Trevino, I’ve got a 10-00 and need back-up assistance at 743 Vine Street. I need an APB and BOLO for badge number 29763, last seen driving a city-issued police Taurus, license plate Boy King Mary Yellow 324. Armed and dangerous, possible female hostage, thirty-four years of age, over.”
He releases the button and I try to process what he’s saying.
Female hostage, female hostage, female hostage…
Static comes over the radio seconds later and a tinny female voice replies.
“Copy that. APB and BOLO have been processed. Do you need medical assistance for the 10-00, over?”
Dax glances at Marcus sadly. “Negative. Officer is DOA, over.”
“Copy that. Assistance is en route, ETA five minutes, over.”
“Copy.” Dax reattaches the radio to Marcus’s shoulder and tosses the bloody napkins onto the floor of the car. He backs away from the vehicle and immediately starts dialing his cell phone while I stand there, trying to make sense of what’s going on.
“I need deeds to any piece of property that Jackson Castillo and/or Anthony Giordano own. Text me the addresses as soon as fucking possible.”
He ends the call and finally looks at me. I can do nothing but shake my head back and forth.
“This isn’t happening. This is NOT fucking happening,” I whisper.
“Do you have any idea what direction they went in?” Dax asks.
I continue shaking my head, wondering how in the hell this could happen. I shouldn’t have let her leave. I shouldn’t have taken that fucking call and turned my back on her.
“I was on the phone. She left when I was on the phone. She fucking left while I was on the phone,” I repeat like a deranged idiot.
“This is all on me, do you understand? You had no way of knowing she shouldn’t go off alone with him,” Dax explains. “He’s one of my fucking own. I put him in charge of watching her, dammit.”
Pulling my fist back, I punch him right in the mouth, exactly like I wanted to do earlier. I shake out my hand as he shouts in pain, spitting a wad of blood out of his mouth and onto the sidewalk.
“I’ll let you have that one shot because I know you’re pissed, but that’s all you get. You do it again and I’m hauling your ass in for assaulting a police officer after I beat the fuck out of you!” Dax shouts at me as he holds the back of his hand against his busted lip.
My entire body shakes with rage and I see nothing but red. I don’t pay attention to his warning and I advance on him instead.
“What the fuck did you do? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO, ASSHOLE?” I scream, shoving my hands against his chest.
He stumbles backwards into the side of his vehicle and then, faster than I can come up with another insult, he’s got me turned around with my arms secured behind my back in the iron lock of his hands.
“Seriously, this is your last fucking warning!” he yells by my ear.
I struggle against his hold, but he just tightens it until my arms feel like they’re being ripped out of their sockets.
“Why does my guard dog have a hole in his head and why the fuck did you issue an APB and a BOLO for Jackson? TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED!”
He shakes me roughly to get me stop struggling and I pause for a moment to let my anger simmer so he’ll fucking speak. My brain has already caught up with all the shit happening around me, but I want to hear him fucking say it.
“I got an anonymous call earlier that there was someone on the inside making all those threats against you and Phina. Guy claimed he saw the person light the fire around the ambulance and cut the brake line on Finnley’s car. Even saw him tape a few notes to yours and Phina’s front doors,” Dax explains. “I didn’t want to believe it. I mean, for all I knew it was her fucking father calling it in trying to get us off of his tail, but I still had to look into it, just in case.”
I’ve already put two-and-two together and I don’t want to hear what he says next. I don’t want to know that everything I’m thinking about right now could be a reality.
“I never actually worked with Jackson. He’s a beat cop and I’m a detective, so our paths have never really crossed. My captain put out a few calls when Phina started receiving threats and the guy actually came to me and volunteered for the job. Told me some story about his cousin fucking up Phina’s best friend’s life and how he just wanted to do right by everyone for his family’s sake. I didn’t like it, but he came highly recommended from my captain. I trust that man, DJ. He was my fucking mentor at the police academy and he’s been like a father to me since I graduated. I had no solid reason to think Jackson was anything but on the up and up even if my gut didn’t agree. Besides, this city doesn’t exactly have the resources to put a full-time cop on glorified guard duty. Jackson was on personal leave and we already had another cop filling in for him at the station, so it seemed like the perfect solution on paper.
