first cut

No matter what station he’d been in, the chairs had always been the same. As a fifteen year old, left in a corner of the bullpen while his parents had been drawn aside. ’You sit and be … be good OK? We’ll be right back’ As though him getting a little noisy in a police station was their biggest problem that night. Sitting there, shifting uneasily as he tried to get a look at everyone the cops marched past that door – looking for the other Agnellis, the ones who’d scattered while Mikey had stayed – the cheap office chair creaking beneath him like it was about to collapse. Like the ones in his precinct back home and here in Mystic Falls (the town’s deep pockets didn’t make for glossy surroundings), broken in by numerous cops over the years. They’d replace it when the damn thing collapsed, or he went home with sepsis from some rusty screw poking him in the ass.

Another scar for Roxxi to run her lips over like each one was precious instead of evidence of a life that was too dangerous for her to wanna be a part of it. Still she stayed though, looking at just the good – even in Mikey.

Chase raked his teeth over upper lip, tugging on the flesh as he punched the number into the phone again. The precinct back at home, bridges maybe charred around the edges when he’d left with barely a word, but not burnt to the ground yet. It rang a half dozen times before the click came. He’d been about to put it down, anticipating that Osbourne had maybe left early – a po’boy always seemed to be calling the man’s name, begging to be added to the layers of them that sat around his waist, twenty years of junk food and sitting back to let the younger guys deal with the leg work building up like rings in a tree.

It was barely a grunt on the other end, something that mighta been the precinct number or a greeting smothered like the oysters in that po’boy ‘til his name rolled out at least. ”…Osbourne.” No offer of help, you didn’t open yourself up to that unless you had every intention of hauling your ass up out of that chair.

Leaning forward, Chase heard the answering creak of Osbourne’s as his complained. ”Lemme guess, Johnny’s finally shut down …” With the reputation the place had, that wasn’t happening, they weren’t gonna turn one of their best customers away. Osbourne would be queueing up at 4.30 every day, looking at add another half inch to his waistline.

”Oo ye yi, podna! You cross yourself and hope dat day ain’t ever comin’, you hear me?”

The splutter down the line had him chuckling. There’d been knots in his gut, tugging on and off since that son of a bitch Nemo had rolled up on him out on the square, threatening to strangle him at times, loosened only when Roxxi’s fingers had slipped under them, working some loose with talk of a future. Of kids. That’d done it, the thought that they couldn’t bring them into a world like this, when scum like Emiliano Agnelli was still trying to slip that choke chain around Mikey’s throat, like he was a dog he couldn’t let go.

A week after the ball he’d sent the email, asking for a quiet look around on the Agnelli’s. There were some in the department who had to be under Emiliano’s thumb, but Osbourne had never let him down before, had never dipped his hand into the pot like others had done. ”Consider me prayin’ for you. Hey, did you get anythin’ back? There’s been … he ain’t lifted his head up here yet, I’m hopin’ that means he’s been back there, nursing the kickin’ he got.” Kicking. Ha. He’d barely been able to lift a hand to the guy, it’d been Domino who’d done the heavy lifting, scaring Nemo off, ripping at him with those sharp teeth until he’d bolted on those scarecrow thin legs.

Osbourne sighed, the chair creaking again. ”Wish I had better news for you, podna. If he ran back to that asshole then he did it on the down low. I’m still keepin’ an eye out, but y’know what they be like…”

It had gone downhill from there, the knots in his gut tightening and threatening to tear right through his gut by the time he set the phone down. He slumped back in his seat – another groan, this one lower, like it was feeding off of his mood. The door opened without a knock, sending him upright to a chorus of protests before he stilled. ”Hey,” he rasped. ”I thought you had classes all …” Afternoon.

The whimper undercut whatever unimportant thing he was about to spit out. Roxxi’s cheeks were flushed, swollen, hot against his own as he caught her and drew her in. ”Hey, baby, what’s wrong?” It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her like this, what had happened at the Ball had worried him for days, the Roxxi who’d been quiet as a mouse on the way back to the apartment scaring him. It was worse now, as she started to babble an explanation about … watching?

His fingers tried to brush her hair back from her face, but Roxxi’s face was buried against his chest, then she was tipping her head up herself, her words going straight from her mouth to his throat, tying a noose out of one of those knots. Wouldn’t do that to him. Hadn’t met him yet. Was this gonna be another spill of half truths to rip open something inside of him. Oh yeah. He would’ve folded, put his head between his knees as that sick feeling rolled up, but Roxxi was there in his lap, so ripped up she couldn’t even meet his eye anymore. ”What are you talkin’ about?” he rasped, feeling like so much acid had spilled up from his gut that it had entirely burned him out.

Dark brows furrowed, lines cutting above them as something at the heart of him started going cold despite the warmth in his lap. ”You’re not goin’ anywhere. Whatever happened … it’s nothin’ we can’t…” But his voice was tailing off, the words he was trying to piece together suddenly slotting with an alarming speed. ”There’s a video of you and … some other guy? Someone put it out there?” For everyone to see. Those alabaster limbs splayed, on display as another guy had … Chase’s hand slid to Roxxi’s jaw, almost wanting to squeeze, to lay claim to her again, like somehow he hadn’t seen her being pulled out her grasp – not her walking away this time, but someone dragging her.

Tagged: ROXANNE BRASCHI * Word Count: 1131

You knew it was love when one look could sooth all the wounds in your soul, even those old ones that went so deep they almost cut you right through. He probably couldn’t have pointed his finger right at the spot on their timeline where it had tipped from fun and affection to full on love, but it had definitely gone that way long before he’d said the words aloud. Looking up and seeing her at his office door had been the best part of a lot of days, just the brush of her lips draining the tension, the appearance of a plastic tub of lunch getting rid of those hunger pangs he’d been ignoring while he ran around in circles in this damn job. Roxxi was all the soft, all the warm in a life full of cold, hard edges.

He would’ve drawn her in – screw the lookie-loos who’d seen her walk into the station – breathing the disappointment and strain at getting no relief over Nemo Agnelli’s whereabouts into the crook of her neck. Would’ve done, if Roxxi hadn’t immediately crumpled, like something inside of her had snapped clean through. Fear rolled through him, faster than it had done in any of the nightmarish situations that had cropped up over the last couple of years. Something in him was going to snap clean through if that sick feeling had any real sort of basis.

Chase didn’t draw back, but he did stiffen in his seat, his fingers a brittle bracket holding Roxxi there in his lap so that she couldn’t look away and hide that pain that seemed to be biting her as hard as, harder, that it was him. Baby, please. He would’ve begged if there’d seemed to be any way to turn that clock back again. Like they’d done before. Head spinning, Chase felt his jaw tighten, his breath come short as she looked away from him. She promised. He dipped his head, his face scrunching like he wasn’t sure if he was gonna laugh or cry. How many of those promises were gonna come before he learned his lesson? How many times was it gonna feel like someone had reached into his chest and ripped his heart out?

He pressed his lips together hard, like he could stop the cheap coffee that had gotten him through the day from rolling back up again. She’d called him love, like that was gonna make it anymore real. He shoulda said something then, reassured Roxxi that whatever happened before didn’t mean anything to him, they were the now, but he couldn’t force the words past his lips. As if she knew she sniffled and started to fill him in. Chase swallowed hard, keeping his head low as his hand slid from her jaw to the warm – hot – curve of her cheek. His gaze rose as hers did, locking onto those red, tear filled eyes. ”It wasn’t for them, you shouldn’t…” Be ashamed of enjoying that with someone. He couldn’t even bring himself to say the word. It had taken them so long to get to that point, Roxxi pulling back every time they tried to take a step forward, but whatever had happened with that guy obviously hadn’t taken those same, tiny steps. Whatever had happened had to have left the guy bitter though, to put that out there.

Tearing his gaze away from her as Roxxi sobbed, Chase stared at his office door. Roxxi coming here wasn’t exactly a secret. They knew her, the guys at the desk, the other officers who’d just smile and nod now. How long was it gonna take until one of them saw it and opened their mouth? How long until he snapped and … No, he wasn’t gonna do that to her, not with all of this piled on top so high he felt like it was gonna crush him, them. ”If it wasn’t him, why would they do that? Who’d want to destroy your life?” He shoo his head, finally drawing her closer again, his hand sliding from her cheek to her back, a slow circle of his palm – although he didn’t know if he was soothing himself or her. ”This was private property. You didn’t send it out to your students, they can’t fire you for someone else circulating it.” It didn’t mean that the school wouldn’t try and force her out some other way to avoid the ‘embarrassment’. They probably had a thousand ways of doing it.

They might never have been together, might not have spoken since they decided to immortalise their relationship, but she still had his number obviously and that knowledge brought on another pang in the pit of his stomach. Sniffing, Chase lifted his other hand, knuckled under his nose, his mouth, like he could brush that bitterness away. Fuck. When was it gonna feel like the rug wasn’t gonna be pulled out from under his feet at any moment. Roxxi was sniffling again, brushing at her cheek. He reached for her wrist slowly, drawing her hand away, guiding it to his neck so he could cradle her face in his hand again.

Dark brows furrowed, his jaw tightening and releasing one last time before he tried to push his hurt down inside of himself, burying it under hers, because in the end, no matter what happened, his heart would mostly heal, Roxxi’s life might not. Chase nodded slowly, stroking his thumb gently across her cheekbone to gather up those tears. ”It’s illegal … even if he was the one to do it. You can’t send that stuff out without permission.” It was like rape – not saying ‘no’ didn’t mean you had permission. ”If we find out who did it, I can charge them.” But that wasn’t going to put the genie back in the box. The lid had been torn off, all the insides pulled out, maybe damaged too much to fit them back together again the way they’d been. ”He didn’t know who could’ve done it?” That would be his only starting point. His heart still beat heavy in his chest, each thud enough to physically hurt. ”I’m sorry baby,” Chase whispered hoarsely. ”I’m sorry they’ve hurt you.” Sorry he could only pick up the rubble after, sorry that they weren’t getting some happy ever after like they’d talked about after the ball, when something else had torn Roxxi apart.

Tagged: ROXANNE BRASCHI * Word Count: 1067