BabyShares

Story Excerpt

The police officer was really good looking, tall and beefy. Prematurely gray, sexy, stern, and quietly in charge, he was my kind of hero. Especially when I was in the kind of trouble I appeared to be in.

I gave him a sweet little smile and tossed my head so my long blonde hair would catch his eye. He ignored me.

The green-tint fluorescent lights had to be unflattering. One of them was buzzing. I had no choice so I continued to sit there, uncomfortable, parked in a metal chair in a windowless room reeking of fries and cigar smoke. A crappy paddle fan pushed the humidity into my face, and I could feel the sweat gathering under my arms and on the backs of my thighs. We don't have this kind of humidity in La Jolla. We don't have these kind of cops, either.

I'd come to Florida to meet the man who was paying for my education, but I'd ended up walking into a mess. A security guard got himself shot to death by some crazy bitch with a pink gun. Right before my eyes. I mean, jeezus. I had no idea what was going on…

We were listening to the audio the guard had made when I started coughing. Officer Handsome gave me a look. I must have had duh all over my face because he reached over to pause the audio at that point.

"I don't get it," I said between coughs. "What is this guy talking about?"

The policeman shrugged. "Keep listening. See if you learn anything."

Sounded like something my eleventh grade English teacher might have said. Aloof, superior, constantly teasing. I'd had a bad case of I-want-you for my English teacher.

Then he said, "Let me get you some water."

Officer Handsome fetched me a paper cone of water from a cooler in the hall. When he handed it to me, our fingers touched. I wanted more. Of him, not the tepid water.

After I stopped choking, I asked, "Am I part of some big bucks scam?"

My policeman said, "It sure sounds like that, doesn't it? Group of bored wealthy folks toying with kids' lives. Making wagers like they're betting on the upcoming Dolphins game."

I liked the fire in his ice blue eyes. His face blushed a little, like he was getting all steamed up over it.

I wanted to be able to make his eyes light up like that. Not by discussing my involuntary involvement with a conference room of creepy old farts. But with my body. With my flesh. My skin on his skin. His naked skin.

I smiled at him. I was still smiling when he asked if I was ready. If only he knew just how ready I was.

He clicked on the audio.

We listened again to the poetic, melodramatic voice from the morgue. Telling this wacked story that seemed to have something to do with me. With my whole freaking life.