Sappy Heartwood

8: Kissable Height.

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Chapter Eight

Kissable Height

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Now, I figured I would stay at his side no matter what. Such as attending meetings with him, all that crap. Perhaps even watch him shower. But oh no, I couldn't be so wrong if I tried.

"Fetch me case number yx9079," the arsehole we call Detective Daniels ordered me from behind his large metal desk.

Honestly, I swear he thinks I'm his assistant, or slave, or both.

I leaned against the far wall of his office, with my back against the cold-black bricks. I sighed. "Don't you have a secretary for this?"

He raised his head from behind an orange folder. "The last fella got himself shot in his derriere; I no longer required his services."

"How unfortunate for him." Hang on, did he just say what I thought he did? That his last secretary was shot in his arse? I wonder how the bloody hell that happened? Tziporah, you know what they say about curiosity, right? My subconsciousness reminded me, so I cleared my throat. "I just don't see how me being your slave is going to get us answers."

"Answers?"

"Mrs Smith? Her murderer may still be in Heartwood. Shouldn't you be out there?" I pointed to the relatively small window behind the detective. "Looking for him? Or her, or them and they?"

"They? Whatever gave you the idea there are multiple killers? Evidence suggests but one." His eyes were on the pages within the orange folder as he spoke.

I scratched the back of my head. He's impossible! Has he not heard of pronouns before?

"Do you have headlice?" This man...I can't with him; I'm going to go fucking insane. "You must rid yourself of them at once."

"I don't have lice, thank you very much." I scoffed. "And you're changing the subject."

"Oh? I am, am I?"

"Yes! My Dads returned from hell, and my best friend was kidnapped, her mother murdered! So why aren't we out there looking for the killer?" He ignored me and continued to read the folder. "Instead, you have had me fetching bloody useless folders and files all afternoon! I wonder what your last slave died of?"

"I told you—"

"He was shot. I know," pushing myself off the wall, I approached his black metal desk. The top was wide and long enough for a person to lie on and thick enough to sit in. "Why aren't you doing anything?" I inquired, placing my hands on the desk.

"Remove your hands,"

"What?"

Using one hand, he gestured to mine. "Remove them."

Arsehole.

"How about make me?" I couldn't help the smirk creeping on my face.

My facial expression changed when his hands landed on top of mine, hard, I might add.

'Help me!' A woman screamed as a man held a gun to a woman's right temple. I realised this was the same vision as before. 'Oh god, please! Don't let him do this!' Tears cascaded down her cheeks, trickling onto the concrete ground. I could feel her horror this time, as if it belonged to me. She was frightened and didn't want to die. 'Please!' She begged once more.

The man grinned at her. His sky-blue eyes glistened with playfulness. 'You can't save this one,' he said, twirling the girl's red hair around his free hand. I know this has something to do with Detective Daniels, but I couldn't fathom the connection. 'It's your fault, all of this,' he motioned to the gun. 'You failed one simple task.' And with that, he pulled the trigger.

"I will find you!" A voice belonging to Detective Daniels yelled into the air, his voice full of regret. "When I do, I will destroy everything you hold dear!"

This part wasn't in the vision before.

"Oh, I look forward to it," the other man grinned. His eyes sparkled. "Until then, I'm afraid I must leave you to clean this mess up." And with that, he retreated into the darkness.

"Whatever is the trouble? Must I contact a physician?"

Blinking, I staggered backwards, causing the detective's hands to fall onto the desk where mine had been moments ago. "I-I'm fine," my head ached as if someone punched me. Although I was far from being okay, he didn't need to know that. "Just a headache, it'll pass."

"I am no physician, Miss Summers, but one's complexion does not generally pale when suffering from a headache."

He was right. I could feel blood slowly returning to my face. I felt a tad dizzy as well. "It's nothing, I'm fine." Glancing upwards, dark brown eyes stared into my light blue ones; they looked uneasy. "I'm fine," I repeated.

"Hmm," he mumbled, pushing the chair backwards, then stood up just as the door behind me burst open. The detective's gaze fell upon an officer standing at the door, trying to catch her breath. "What is the meaning of this?"

The young officer cleared her through, completely ignoring me. "I beg your pardon, sir! I apologise for intruding, but a matter requires your urgent attention, sir!"

"Then spit it out already,"

Her brown eyes darted in my direction. "Um..."

Detective Daniels sighed. "Very well, approach." He motioned her over.

The officer scurried past me and to the detective; once standing beside him, he lowered his ear to her level, and she whispered something into it. I now realised how tall the detective actually was compared to the officer. He was at least six feet tall, if not taller, and I was only five foot seven.

It's still a kissable height. I mean...What? I didn't say anything.

"What!?" Detective Daddy Daniels suddenly yelled, causing me to jump. Fuckwit almost made me piss my pants. "Is that certain?" He seemed very eager.

The female officer nodded. "Yes, sir."

Turning to my general direction, he stared at me. "Very well, I will handle this in person. Have backup standing by."

"But, sir! You can't go alone!"

Detective Daniels pinned me on the spot with those dark, mysterious eyes. For a moment, I swore I saw his lips pull slightly upwards. "Who said I would be alone?"

I glanced over my shoulder. Perhaps the detective was looking at someone behind me? That would be a big fat no. There was only a vacant wall behind me.

"Well fuck me."