“Merrick,” Madden calls out to me, but I ignore him.
Now's not the time. I can't fight that battle any more. I can only fight the one ahead. It's the only fight I have left in me.
Merrick
Buttoning the lastbutton on my officer shirt, I let out a deep breath while staring at my reflection.
I look like a cop. This is...fucking weird.
“You look ridiculous,” Knoxie's voice joins my thoughts. I look over to see her leaning against the door frame sporting a pair of leather shorts and a black tank top. “You look more like a stripper cop.”
I chuckle and adjust my collar. “I will take the compliment.”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course you will.”
With a smirk, I ask, “Drew ready for me?”
“Yup,” she answers a little quieter than before, clearly nervous. After a short beat she sighs, “Are you sure about all this? I mean-”
“Knox.” The minute she looks into my eyes, I nod. “I'm sure. But I do need a favor from you.”
“Name it.”
“Madden's problem is, he feels he has to fall on the sword for everyone. That none of this is anyone else's fault. He acts like he's the only one who makes mistakes and can fix them. But this isn't his wrong to undo. It's mine. I have to be the one that falls on the blade, so when Madden tries, and he misses, he's still gonna fall. I need you to promise me no matter how many times he falls, you'll keep picking him back up. You're the only one who can Knox. Trust me.”
With a trembling jaw she nods before embracing me in a tight hug. “You're totally my favorite.”
I laugh lightly. “I know.”
Our moment is short lived by Madden who appears as unpleasantly as ever. Seeing us together in this way forces him to growl. “Am I interrupting something?”
All that jealousy with no where to go. Sad isn't it?
“Relax Mad Man.” I pull away from her. “She's all yours.” Preparing to walk past him I drop my voice to a whisper, “Maybe you should let her know that occasionally.”
Not waiting for a response I enter the kitchen where Drew is ready to layer on prosthetics. On the table is a false nose. False goatee. A pair of false eyebrows and even fake ears.
He's like a weird sculpting genius. He should quit this shit and go to Hollywood. Live a life style out there. Could you imagine Triple D in Hollywood? Who knows...maybe I'll get to see his movies during T.V. time outside of my cell. Don't look at me like that. You know this is the right thing to do. You know as much as I do, I belong behind bars.
“Sit down. This is gonna take a minute,” Drew demands.
I follow the request looking around the living room behind him at Destin who has his computers and tablets in motion, video feed from inside the precinct running on the T.V. screen. “Where's Daniel?”
“Dropping Hayli off at Vinnie's.”
“Good,” I reply as he prepares to attach the nose first.
Drew doesn't say anything else as he attaches the false pieces to my body. Everything is cold and itchy, making it harder to stay still. But I try even harder. No point in having a crooked nose if I don't have too.
Did you ever get your face painted when you were a kid? It reminds me of that except instead of something I can rinse off in the bath, I'm gonna have to yank it off and it's gonna hurt like a bitch. Speaking of face paint, Drew always got an attitude when I wanted to get it done. I think he knew even then he could do something better.
Once the false pieces are added, Drew starts replacing my fingerprints. “You can shed everything but the ears. They have your earwigs attached.”
“Damn it,” I gripe. “You know how much I hate those things.”
“You're such a fucking pussy,” Drew grumbles.
“The wedge in my ear is large enough to make a rat family fat and full for a decade.”
Drew shakes his head and leans back in his seat. “You're such a pain in the ass.”
I smile widely and stand tall. “How do I look?”
“Like you're gonna fit in,” he sighs. “And that scares the fuck out of me.”
“Diddo,” Destin agrees.
With a short shoulder shrug I say, “I need to do this.”
“We know,” Destin replies. “Doesn't mean we have to like it.”
“You sure you don't want more McCoys on deck?” Drew questions. “I can hop on my bike and-”
“Destin needs you here,” I state sternly. “I need eyes everywhere. If I'm gonna steal this shit right from underneath their noses, I'm gonna need you at his side. Daniel and Madden have my back out there. Besides Vinnie's a lot handier than you think.”
“I'm better on a computer,” Destin states.
“Which is why you're in charge of all this shit and he has a different task. Now can you make the call to The Devil. It's time to go.”
Destin hesitates, but uses his phone to make the call. Within the first couple of rings, he appears on the screen splitting it in half. To no surprise I see Jovi passed out at his side.
Honestly? I'd rather have her passed out than about to witness my biggest criminal act yet.
“You look entertaining,” The Devil snidely remarks.
“Destin's gonna patch you through. You wanted front row seats to see what I'm doing. You're gonna have 'em.”
It also helps us keep his attention where we want it versus what we've got going on behind the scenes.
“I'm not impressed yet. Change that.”
“I plan on it.” Putting on my officer hat that has a camera in it, I state coldly. “I'm delivering your package and I want mine. Alive and untouched.”
Cockily he waves a hand. “You first Ghost.”
Without another word, I turn and head out of the room for the cop car downstairs that I had Daniel borrow earlier.
We're gonna return it. Technically I am! I'm doing that right now...and about to steal another car. Don't get caught up in the details. Focus on the goal here. Bringing Jovi home.
After a quick drive across town, I arrive close to the precinct, parking the car a few blocks down, leaving the keys inside under the seat for when the cops actually find it again. Strolling down the city street, I keep my head down making the least amount of eye contact as possible. Upon entering the front door of the red brick building I'm immediately surrounded by men who wouldn't hesitate to lock me up if they could see the real me.
It was Ben's idea of fun to walk into the Lion's Den. Hell, that's how I met Jovi. That's how my whole fucking life changed. Of course I don't regret it. I could never regret what lead me to the love of my life. That's not what I regret at all. I regret not quitting this shit sooner.
An officer greets me sharply demanding to know how he can direct me to the proper area. I present him with proper paperwork to get me set up. He grumbles something at me about never being kept in the loop, but begins to show me around as expected.
Yes. The Commissioner may or may not have clued me into how this would play out. If you must know he may have pointed out the proper paperwork that Destin needed to make counterfeit copies of.
We walk around the building, most cops actually busy behind the desk. Apparently the opposite direction of where we are headed is where there are detective desks, along with vending machines and the route to gym.
The officer escorting me around questions, “How long have you wanted to be a cop?”
About two days now.
“All my life,” I answer observing the cameras that I know Destin will be tampering with, erasing my face the minute I'm out of here. “You?”
“Since I was in high school.” He shrugs. “When you get the calling. You get the calling, ya know?”
“True.”