Zane (The Powers That Be, Book 6) Page 3

  “W-we’re s-saved, J-Jilly B-Bean,” I heard Izzy whisper through chattering teeth.

  “W-we are? H-how? D-id Ch-Chet c-come b-back?” I stuttered, kind of seeing my breath in front of me in puffs of white, my normally fashionable cat-eye glasses having fogged over so I couldn’t see a damned thing.

  “It’s the p-police.”

  “Um. Y-yay?”

  I assumed the officers got out of the cruiser since I heard car doors shut, and as they walked toward us, one shined his flashlight in my face making me wince and turn away.

  “Ladies. Great night for a sit-in, isn’t it?” Cop One quipped as he approached.

  As the blob of a cop—I couldn’t see!—stood in front of us, his light still annoyingly in my face, the stubborn side of me came out and I muttered, “At l-least it’s n-not s-snowing.”

  And right on cue, it started snowing.

  Great.

  I heard him snort before telling his partner to use his keys to unlock us.

  “Can you turn a little?” Cop Two asked somewhat shyly, his demeanor telling me right away he had to be a rookie.

  I turned to give him access to my wrists behind me pondering the predicament Izzy and I were in.

  Stupid Chet. He was my roommate and cousin and the organizer of the protest, he was of most of them, actually, but he had a reason behind his actions. His dad had been a logger and while felling a tree one day, a limb had been dislodged from above and fallen on him, striking his head and killing him instantly. Chet had only been a month old at the time. But according to my mom, Chet’s love of protests was idiotic—she was slyly speaking about me too, I knew—because first of all, she said he was basically a bastard since he was the product of a one-night stand his mother had had during her “wild period.” Secondly, Mom said the father had never seen Chet, that they didn’t even know if it’d actually been the logger (paternity was up for grabs among a total of five men), so she didn’t understand Chet’s passion for the environment. Anyway, however it came about, I didn’t care; I wanted to save the earth, and having Chet organize everything gave me an “in” as to when and where I could show my support for the environment, which was a plus.

  So back to how stupid Chet was. He’d thrown a chain around the tree asking—ever so enthusiastically—who wanted to prove their loyalty to the cause. Izzy and I had eagerly volunteered, pushing our way through the crowd to plop right down on the ground in front of the oak. Chet had then made a pass with the heavy chain once more around the tree and across our stomachs before instructing us to put our hands behind our backs where he locked our wrists in cuffs that’d been linked through the chain, all to the cheers of the crowd, which had felt awesome.

  Then the crowd had become not so crowd-y as a few here and there took off, shooting us apologetic looks as they walked away, hands cupped to their mouths as they blew hot air inside them. When Chet was the last one standing, he suddenly remembered he had a meeting but told us, fist in the air, to “Represent the Cause!” and he left.

  We’d yelled, “Hell yes!” with neither Izzy nor I having thought far enough ahead to ascertain the fact that we couldn’t reach our phones in our pockets to call someone for help if need be.

  Again, go us!

  Okay, I can chalk up our unforeseen predicament to the fact that we’d both had six beers along with two tequila shots in the hour and a half we’d spent at O’Leary’s Sports Bar and Grill across the street—we’d been celebrating our semester finals being finished—before heading here to protest. And as the others left, we’d still been full of drunken bravado telling the crowd we’d stay until the mall construction crew showed up, by golly!

  Even though we later realized it was Friday.

  And the crew probably wouldn’t be there until Monday.

  Unless it snowed.

  Then it might be Tuesday.

  Or whichever day the snow started clearing up.

  Great thought-out plan, eh?

  And who could’ve predicted that everyone would leave and we’d be stranded.

  Or that alcohol does not ward off the cold.

  Or make you smart.

  Jeez.

  “Ow!” I cried out since Rookie Cop was having trouble trying to release me and was pushing my body all cattywampus to get to the cuffs making it feel like he was going to pop my shoulder out of socket.

  Cop One moved to the side and directed his flashlight behind me for his partner to see.

  “How’d you f-find us?” I asked.

  Cop One possibly looked down at me and answered, “Gotta call from O’Leary’s saying a couple of idiots were chained to a tree across the street.”

  Well then. I gave him my best insolent look to let him know I was annoyed, which only got me a snort because I was sure I looked ridiculous. When my hands were finally free, I turned my head and stated to the rookie cop, “Th-thank you,” pulling my hands in front of me and shrugging my shoulders to get some blood running through them as I massaged my wrists with my gloved fingers before removing my glasses to wipe them clear.

  Rookie Cop immediately narrowed his eyes looking all suspicious at me and I frowned.

  “What?” I asked, putting my glasses back on.

  “Have you been drinking?” he asked, and I instinctively clamped my mouth shut.

  “L-little h-help here,” Izzy called, still chained and cuffed.

  I couldn’t really see Rookie’s face too clearly through my now-smudged specs, but I was pretty sure he was giving me a scowly glare before he moved to unlock Izzy.

  While he worked at freeing her, he turned back to me, his demeanor suddenly changing from Rookie Cop to Robocop, upholder of all laws, great and small. “I’ll ask again. Have you been drinking?”

  I looked up at Cop One, who I thought seemed amused by what was going on, and replied, shivering, “Well, yeah. We were at O’Leary’s and had a couple beers before coming here.” So I somewhat fudged the truth. Whatever. I mean, we weren’t drunk anymore anyway because I was sure the alcohol had frozen in our veins. Robocop had by then freed Izzy and stood so she and I did the same, letting the chain drop to the ground at our feet with a loud clank. Seeing how Izzy was now pre-law and had told me some things, of course, I just couldn’t let it go. “It’s not illegal to be drunk in Washington unless you’re on public transportation or causing problems.”

  Jerking back his head, Robocop replied mockingly, “Is that so? Well, I’d say being on private property is causing a problem. So how about we call the owner to see if he wants to press trespassing charges?”

  “JB!” Izzy hissed and I shut up.

  “You have a vehicle nearby?” Cop One asked.

  “Yes,” I stated but Izzy spoke at the same time, “No! We’re going to call some friends to pick us up.”

  Ah. Smart girl. Cop One, who I noticed was very tall and very in shape, was trying to get us for driving drunk.

  “Yeah. We’re calling friends,” I seconded what Izzy had said.

  “Don’t let us catch you out here again,” Robocop warned.

  Thank God they were letting us go. As my parents somehow knew everything that went on with me—I suspected Chet had something to do with this although he’d sworn he didn’t—it meant I wouldn’t be getting a reprimanding phone call which was a huge plus.

  “We won’t, Officer?” Izzy asked Robo.

  “Pope,” he answered.

  She then looked at Cop One. “And?”

  “Powers.”

  Ever breathed in so sharply you started choking? That was me right then. Izzy popped me on the back a couple times with her palm to help me out as I looked up at the policeman. Surely, he wasn’t Zane Powers. Not my Zane Powers.

  “Zane?” Izzy asked.

  “That’d be me,” he responded and I sucked in another breath, almost strangling myself again.

  Okay, look. Although I’d forgotten about him, I still remembered what we’d done because, damn. When you’ve had the best sex of your life that you ten
d to compare all other sexual encounters to, well, if you run into that person again, you’re bound to be a little out of sorts, right? Therefore, I was definitely, to say the least, thrown off.

  “I’m Isabel, Izzy, Smith! I dated Kaleb Harris!” she exclaimed.

  “Yeah? I think I remember you,” he stated, looking as if he were trying to recall her.

  As they talked, I took off my glasses and cleaned them with a cocktail napkin I remembered I’d stuck in my coat pocket. Then putting them back on, I looked up and saw it was him. And he was even more handsome than I remembered. And in a uniform. Wow. Then I realized they’d stopped talking and were both looking at me.

  “What?” I asked looking from Izzy to him then back.

  “You’re Jillian,” he said, voice low, making me turn to look up at him.

  He shot the flashlight at my face again making me hold my hand up to shield it as I squinted my eyes.

  “Uh, yeah. I am. Could you, um, move the light, please?”

  He moved it down and I watched his face go hard, even cold, as he stared at me. This went on for what seemed like forever and I shifted on my feet uncomfortably, guessing his memory of our encounter wasn’t quite as fond as mine was.

  To break the lull, I shared, “Did you know that the British call flashlights torches?” More silence. “And, really, in most English-speaking countries other than the U.S. it’s called a torch.” I nodded slowly not knowing what else to add.

  Thankfully, “Attention all units, possible one-twenty-five on Ninety Blanchard street,” came from somewhere.

  His eyes on mine the whole time, I watched Zane lean his head to the left where a walkie-talkie mic was attached at his shoulder on which he pushed a button and answered, “Dispatch, Unit Nine responding.”

  “Be advised suspect is armed and on foot.”

  “Copy that.” He finally looked away from me and jerked his head in the direction of their vehicle at his partner.

  “Don’t let us catch you out here again, ladies,” Robo warned before turning to go.

  I rolled my eyes because, darn, I really wanted to do it all over, especially now that it was beyond freezing cold and I could watch it snow. I turned to Izzy and caught her rolling hers too before I looked back at Zane whose dark look was on me once again as he got into the patrol car. Then lights flashing, they drove away.

  “I can’t believe it was him,” I mumbled.

  “You should totally hit that again,” she said with a giggle. “If I wasn’t with Corey, I would.”

  The pang of jealousy I felt at thinking of her with him took me totally by surprise. To show my emotions who was boss here, I concurred, “Go for it,” before I started walking back to O’Leary’s to get my car.

  Chapter 3

  “Thanks a lot,” I murmured when I walked into my apartment that night.

  Chet spared me a quick glance from where he sat on the floor since he and Rusty were playing a stupid video game. Again. “You’re welcome?”

  “You almost got Iz and me arrested!”

  That got his attention. He paused the game, ignoring Rusty’s objections and asked, “What happened?”

  I hung my coat on the hook rack on the wall then turned and glared as I walked past him toward the kitchen. “First of all, you left us there without any way to get free.” I began making coffee to help me warm up.

  “I thought you wanted to do it!” he hollered.

  I grabbed the creamer out of the fridge. “We did. But, number one, we were drunk. Number two, we couldn’t reach our phones. And number three, you fucking left us!”

  “It was cold!”

  Arrrggghhhh.

  Three years ago when I’d moved to Seattle, Mom had suggested I find Chet—whose grandmother was my very wealthy great, great (or something like that) Aunt Ruby, so of course Mom approved because he came from money—and stupid me had listened to her. But since I hadn’t known anyone and he was all I had, I’d called Aunt Ruby to get his number, he and I met for coffee and he’d offered me a place to stay. I’d planned on moving out as soon as I found my own place, but Seattle was an expensive city, my job didn’t pay the greatest, and there was no way I was going to ask my parents for help which would, in their minds, give them the right to tell me how to live my life, so I’d stayed.

  It really wasn’t that bad an arrangement. I had the master suite with a bathroom and the guys weren’t around a whole lot, either sleeping or gone as soon as it got dark, which wasn’t too weird since Chet didn’t work seeing that he lived off his trust fund, so their being gone all the time made it convenient for me to study. As far as I knew, Rusty didn’t work either, but he somehow always had money, so I thought maybe he was a trust-fund baby too. Izzy thought they were gigolos because Chet was very good looking with dark hair and crystal-blue eyes like mine, plus he had a bit of a boy-next-door demeanor. Rusty, well, he actually reminded me of Zane, tall, built, caramel-colored hair, but his eyes were different. Whereas Zane’s were vibrant and changed with his mood—hey, I might love forearms, but eyes were the windows to the soul, and I’d definitely noticed Zane’s eyes in the short time I was with him—Rusty’s eyes pretty much stayed the same—guarded, suspicious and watchful. But Izzy’s gigolo hypothesis was better than the alternate theory she’d come up with which was that they were drug dealers and which had made my eyes bug out because I didn’t want to be anywhere around that crap. In any case, although the apartment wasn’t located in the greatest part of town, at least it was fairly quiet.

  “You’re a jerk,” I stated, pouring myself a cup and downing half in one go. Upon burning my tongue, of course, I yelled, “Shit!” getting no response of concern from either roommate.

  Walking back into the living room, I saw they were engrossed in their game again, as I was sure all thirty-year-old men would be at ten o’clock on a Friday night. Weirdos.

  I shook my head and went to my room finishing my coffee before jumping into a hot shower. After getting my pjs on, I headed back to the kitchen to get something to eat, only to see Chet and Rusty heading out the door. Good.

  Just as I sat on the couch to watch some TV and eat leftover microwaved chili from the night before, Izzy called.

  “I’m all for a clean Earth and supporting you, Jilly Bean,” she started without any preamble when I answered, “but if I’m gonna be a lawyer, I can’t afford to get arrested! I’m done.”

  I sighed. “I know. I’m really sorry, Iz. I blame the tequila.”

  “It was some good tequila,” she replied with a chuckle.

  “It was,” I agreed.

  “We should go back to O’Leary’s tomorrow night since our celebration got cut short for the rally!”

  I laughed. “I have a lab tomorrow until six, but I wouldn’t be averse to taking a cab this time in case Robocop and Menacing Man are around.”

  She snorted. “Zane was pretty menacing, come to think of it. And I think he was a little pissed when he realized who you were. I mean, you never gave him your number.”

  “It was a fling, remember?” I shrugged.

  “Maybe for him it wasn’t,” she surmised which made me frown.

  “Why wouldn’t it have been? We hooked up at a party. Who expects anything other than a romp in the sack in that situation?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you were a really good romp and he wanted more.”

  “Anyway, I left for my internship two days later. What good would it have done to give him my number?”

  “Maybe he liked you. Oh! And Kaleb and I broke up that night too, remember? What if he asked Kaleb for your number, and since I never answered Kaleb’s calls after that so he could get it, Zane’s been pining for you ever since?”

  “Whatever.”

  “He’s been searching for you and didn’t recognize you tonight at first because your beanie hid your hair.”

  “Could be, I mean the not recognizing me part, not the pining,” I said, thinking my cap still hadn’t hidden the ten inches or so of silver to
bright royal blue ombre that stuck out from under it.

  “It was pretty dark.”

  “Not when he shined that long-ass flashlight in my face. What was that all about? He used it like his phallic symbol of power or something.”

  “I remember you telling me his dick was about that big, too, huh?” She giggled.

  “And why’s he here? And a cop? I thought he was gonna play pro baseball?”

  “You’ll have to ask him.”

  “Uh huh.” Like that was going to happen. “So, seven at O’Leary’s tomorrow?” I changed the subject since thinking of my sexy time with Zane was starting to have an effect on the butterflies in my stomach that’d been dormant for way too long.

  “Yep! And no cops this time, JB!”

  I chuckled. “My next protest isn’t until Tuesday at Easton Park where they’re trying to build a Walmart, so you’re safe.”

  “Wait. Why do you have a lab when school’s out?” she asked.

  “Uh, the environment doesn’t stop for Christmas break, Iz,” I said with a laugh.

  “Oh, yeah.” She giggled.

  “But it’s the last lab until next semester, so I’ll be free for a while!”

  “Hey, what’d Chet say when you got home?”

  “He and Rusty were too busy shooting up bad guys, and when I griped him out for leaving us, his reason was that he was cold. Dickhead.”

  “Wow. Well, we’ll just make sure to go to the next one sober and not get handcuffed,” she assured.

  This made me smile because she’d just declared she was done, yet there she was planning to join me again. She may have had her moments, but she was a good friend. Also, since her boyfriend Corey played for the Seahawks and was busy with practice and games a lot right now, I knew she was bored staying at their apartment alone.

  “’Kay, I’m gonna Netflix some Dexter then get to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow night!” I said.

  “I’ll be there with bells on!”

  We hung up, I did as I said I would, then went to bed at almost midnight.

  And dreamed about Zane Powers and his colossal cock.