His First Surrender (Stonewall Investigations Miami 3)

“Jesse. You don’t have—”

“Fuck this.” A flip had switched. Jesse launched up from his seat, the table falling over onto its side with a loud clatter. A woman next to me screeched as she dropped her coffee in surprise, white porcelain shards scattering all across the stone floor.

I didn’t have much time to think. Jesse was on me, his fists flying. One fist landed hard against my cheek. I put my arms up to try and absorb some of the blows. His punches connected with my forearm, a blistering hot pain shooting through me. I stumbled back. Another fist landed in my gut, knocking all the air out of me. People were shouting for Jesse to stop, but it was useless, their cries falling on deaf, rage-filled ears.

I didn’t fall to my knees, as badly as I wanted to. I kept my feet underneath me and swung my hand upward, my knuckles digging into Jesse’s rib cage.

I barely made a dent. Jesse was bigger than me, and he had the advantage.

It was then that I realized I was a goner. Jesse wasn’t going to stop. And no one seemed to be intervening, everyone most likely too frightened by the intense anger radiating off my attacker.

My eyes shut tight as he lifted another fist into the air. I knew this would be the one. Once it connected with my head, I’d be done.

My eyes stayed shut tight. I heard a grunt and a scuffle, and I realized I still had all my consciousness, meaning Jesse never got to punch my lights out. I opened one eye, then another.

In front of me, kneeling on top of Jesse like a hunter bringing home a prized catch, was Rocky Hudson, looking as if he’d walked off a photoshoot for the cover of GQ before coming to save my life.

God, I hated this guy.

And now, I also really, really fucking loved him.

“You okay?” he asked me, not even out of breath. Meanwhile, Jesse grunted and whined underneath him like the pig he was.

“Yeah, I’m good.” My cheek and forearm felt sore from the blows, and my stomach shook in a weird way, but nothing was broken or bleeding.

You’d think that with the threat of annihilation by pummeling was over, my heart would start slowing back down to its normal pace. But, for some reason, my pulse only quickened, my heartbeat pounding hard in my chest, escalating with every glance I threw to Rocky, the pain being subdued by the dose of adrenaline.

After a few minutes, police sirens cut through the air. By the time they arrived, Jesse had calmed down. We both spoke to the police, who wrote down our statements and gave a stern talk to Jesse, warning him that another incident like this would land him behind bars. I was asked if I wanted to press charges, but I felt like being dragged into a legal fight with him would only prolong having him in my life. Jesse said he would move out by the end of the week, so I felt like severing him completely out of our lives would be the best scenario. He was also told he had to pay for the damages to the coffee shop, and he was barred from ever coming back there again.

When it was all over, I was left standing on the sidewalk, emptying now as the sun was beginning to set. Detective Rocky Hudson stood there with me, both of us looking almost comically awkward. The pain from the punches felt a little louder now, the places that were hit still pulsing.

My instincts kicked in, and I filled the awkward silence with the only thing I could think of.

A terrible joke.

“So…” I said. “You, uh, were following him or me? Cuz you could have just asked me out on a date if that were the case, Detective.”

Dumb joke, dumb joke.

And then Rocky did something that surprised me.

The asshole laughed. He laughed at my dumb joke, and something shifted inside me, a key clicking into place. I wasn’t exactly sure what it opened yet, but holy hell did I feel something happen. Maybe that feeling was my entire life falling into place, or maybe it was my entire life falling apart?

Little did I know, the night ahead was about to answer that very question for me.

8

Rocky Hudson

The only thing in my vision was Sam, and he was in trouble. I didn’t give a fuck about blowing my cover or any other “on-duty” worries I might have had. I just knew I needed to get to his side and stop Jesse before he killed him. Those fists were flying and they were landing hard, but the patio was crowded and everyone was clustered around the fight, creating an almost impenetrable wall of heads and shoulders. And no one was doing anything to stop them except shouting a few harmless words. I pushed through them, almost knocking someone over, but I didn’t give a fuck.