Picking Up the Pieces (Pieces, #2)(16)

“What’s the address?”

I was momentarily stunned at how the operator doubted my initial request for help, but completely believed the incredulous tale I had just told. Probably because you can’t make up shit like this.

I gave the operator the information and waited outside for the police to arrive. I had told her that I was around the back of the building, so I wasn't surprised when, about five minutes later, I saw the movements of flashlight beams.

The cops sauntered up to me, and the larger of the two began speaking. “You the one who called 911?”

I nodded.

“Okay, so what’s your story?”

“I don’t have a story, officers. Everything I told the operator is the complete truth.”

“Well, then why don’t you tell us what you told the operator.”

I recounted the events of the night, and I could tell from their expressions that they didn’t believe me. I didn’t blame them. I wish I didn’t have to believe me either.

“Alright, stay here. We’ll go check it out.”

They disappeared into the house, and I let out a deep breath. Thank God this was about to become someone else’s problem. I was going to kill Frank and Claire for setting me up with this piece of work.

The shorter officer came back outside about two minutes later looking frazzled. “Okay, sir. You can head home now.”

That was it? They didn’t need me to make a statement? Nothing? “You don’t need me to do anything else? You sure?”

“Sir,” the cop interrupted sternly, “trust me. Do yourself a favor and get out of here as quickly as possible.” He then turned around and went back inside.

No need to tell me twice. And as I sprinted to my car and peeled out of the parking lot, I gave serious thought to taking a vow of celibacy.

***

The phone only rang twice before I heard the familiar, gruff, “Hello.”

“I’m going to f*cking murder you. Like a real murder. One that involves waterboarding and pliers.”

“Adam? How ya doin’, buddy? I guess your date didn’t go so well last night. What? She didn’t put out?”

“Are you kidding me? Have you ever even met that headcase? She should be locked up in an asylum for the criminally insane.”

“You serious? I met her once. She’s smoking hot. And she looks like she knows her way around a dick.”

“I bet she does. Lots and lots of dicks would be my guess.” I recounted the story for Frank, who listened with rapt attention. When I finally finished, he remained silent for a few seconds.

“That’s it?” he asked.

“That’s it? What do you mean, ‘That’s it’? Haven’t you been listening? You set me up with a f*cking sociopath.”

“I think that’s a little dramatic, don’t you?”

“Um, f*ck no, I don’t think it’s dramatic. What the hell is the matter with you?” I was beginning to wonder if I was the crazy one.

“So, you didn’t f*ck her at all? You didn’t even get a blowjob out of her or anything?”

“You are frightening me on so many levels right now, I don’t even know what to say.”

“How about you say that the next time a naked chick throws herself at your cock, you’ll f*cking act like a man and screw her brains out.”

“I . . . have you been evaluated? Because you may really benefit from some professional help.”

Frank let out a guffaw. “Maybe I can visit the same person Marnie’s going to be court-ordered to see after you got her busted by the fuzz.”

“You’re making it sound like I did something wrong here. I possibly saved a child’s life last night. I’m a f*cking hero.” Okay, I may have gotten a little ahead of myself with the hero comment.

“Hero my ass, pal. You call me up, and instead of giving me the vital information, like if her *'s shaved, you go on about how you walked away from a hot, naked woman because she’s the crazy one.”

“I need to hang up.”

“I swear, you could f*ck up a wet dream.”

And on that note, I clicked the end button on my phone and slinked back into my desk chair. As my head spun from everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, I knew only one thing for sure: I needed new friends.





Chapter 7: Max


I glanced over at my alarm clock for what felt like the five hundredth time. 5:34. God, why couldn’t I sleep? I rarely ever had issues nodding off, but the previous night I’d been restless. Fuck it. I rolled out of bed and started to put my running gear on. May as well be productive.

I had hoped that the run would tire me out a little, but it only energized me more. Well, maybe it wasn’t exactly the running that had my adrenaline spiking. Maybe it was a certain person who I would be seeing in a little more than twelve hours. I muttered a curse under my breath as I thought about how much she was still able to affect me. I hadn’t even seen her yet, but the prospect of being physically close to her, being able to smell her scent, and look into those beautiful hazel eyes was making me feel shaky and manic. Memories of her ran through my mind like an X-rated slideshow: her big, perky, and perfectly round tits that fit in my hands as though they were made to be there; her sculpted legs wrapped hungrily around my waist; and her beautiful face brightened with light freckles that lit up with every smile she threw in my direction. Shit.