I had now after three more days grown tired of waiting for the police to scope out Vahlov's cartels, so I took matters into my own hand. I searched the police database for the last known locations he had been known to bag up cocaine and took a cab there myself. But, like every half-decent cartel, they moved just about every week or so. The places I went were deserted and held no trace of ever hosting legal activities. At least to the inattentive observer.

I crouched down in the abandoned warehouse I was in and picked up an old, dirty rag with small rainbows and stars on. It looked innocent enough, but of course it wasn't. I twirled it in my fingers before sniffing it. No particular scent, but it was covered in a dried, crackly substance I recognized; Snot.

This belonged to the little girl Rose, as her name had to be. Despite his words, Vahlov didn't seem like a skilled botanist, so why use this particular category of metaphors to deliver his message? There were hidden messages tucked everywhere inside it, and one of them had to be her name. Rose.

I stood up again, discarding the rag on the ground. I continued to walk around some more, kicking away a few planks of wood and turning over some old plastic covers that concealed old tires, junkyard crap and so on. No matter where I went, what I turned over and what I picked up, I had the constant feeling I was being watched. And I let them. If they were watching me, that meant I was getting close enough for them to have to keep an eye on me.

After a long day of walking around in abandoned buildings and construction sites, I finally headed back to the station. When I walked in, Leon was waiting for me.

"Tell me you did not go out to an abandoned drug house without me."

"If it'll spare your heart of the agony, I shan't," I replied, walking straight past him to the coffee stations, just as my pocket buzzed. I fished out my phone and saw that it was yet another text from Amy. She had been texting me practically nonstop with witty and sarcastic messages that usually held no dear information to man other than the fact that she was immensely bored. This text was yet another one of the same old meaningless prattling.

I'm starting to think that old phone of yours doesn't know how to receive texts from iPhones—maybe I should try sending a dove with the same message and see which one gets to you first? My money is on the dove
- Amy

I rolled my eyes and shut my phone again.

"Russell," Leon gnashed. "I'm serious. Don't make me point out all the reasons why you shouldn't be alone in an old drug den."

"I won't, so you can rest your vocal cord," I replied, pouring myself a cup of coffee, just as another text buzzed in. I didn't even bother checking it this time. "I am more than capable of controlling myself, even if there were anything left at all for me to snort."

"I didn't know you had a sense of humor," Leon scoffed, not even a least bit amused. "Because that's hilarious. If I were to put a bag of coke in front of you right now—"

"—you would be the absolute worst cop on the planet," I said, sipping my coffee. I begun walking down to his cubicle. "Handing out cocaine to civilians? You'd put the entire department to shame."

"Very funny," Leon monotonously replied, just as I felt another buzz in my pocket. "Who is it that keeps texting you? Is it that waitress? What was her name again?"

"Amy." I replied as we took a seat in Leon's booth. He sat back in his chair while I leaned up his desk. "She programmed her number into my phone and I guess she must have programmed mine into hers as well."

"Who is she exactly?" Leon questioned with a raised brow. "How did it happen? Did she just knock on your door and boom, instant connection?"

I scoffed. "After three years I'm truly disappointed you don't know me any better." I felt another buzz in my pocket. "I don't feel a connection with people. I stay above getting emotionally attached."

"I don't know how the hell Janelle managed to convince you to marry her or why," Leon grunted, crossing his arms. "Are you going to reply to those texts?"

"No, and what do you mean 'you don't know how Janelle convinced me to marry her?'" I snapped. "I was the one on bended knee, holding out that big compound of minerals that women want on their finger. Last time I'll ever do that."

"Always the romantic." Leon noted.

Finally my phone begun ringing and angrily I stood up and answered the phone, seeing Amy's name on the screen. "I really sincerely hope this isn't one of those 'why aren't you replying to my texts' calls."

"Russell," Her voice was barely a whisper and she sounded scared to death. "There's someone inside your apartment. I-I think they're burglars."

I instantly whipped around and glared at Leon who sat up at my rapid action. "Where are you, Amy?"

"I'm in my apartment, but I can hear them moving around inside yours," She whispered, her voice shaking. It sounded like she was trying not to sob. "Oh God, I hear smashing, t-they're ruining all your stuff—"

"Stay where you are, I'm coming," I firmly said. "Don't move. Actually, don't even as much as move a muscle. The wall between our apartments is extremely thin. If they hear you shuffling around in there—" I cut myself off when I saw Leon giving me a lethal glare, telling me to stop scaring her and shut the fuck up. "Just stay where you are, I'm coming."

"Hurry," She whispered, her voice cracking.

I hung up the phone and grabbed my keys, already bolting towards the door.

"I'm coming with you," Leon said, also standing up. "Lemme' just call the squad and we'll—"

"No. No police, and you're staying here," I snapped. "I'm going on my own and that's final. Follow me and I'll tell your wife about the time you drunkenly kissed another woman."

"Russell!" Leon bellowed, but I had already bolted off. I was in my car before the minute even ran out.

~~~

I looked around my flat, stopping dead in the door that had been broken down; It was a mess.

I didn't own much, but what I had was scattered out on the floor everywhere. My books, my old files, my clothes. My one towel, my box of useless trinkets was turned upside down and smashed. My couch was tipped over and ripped up, my nightstand broken with a sledgehammer. My mattress was knifed. My laptop was destroyed.

Smirking, I crossed my arms. Finally. This was good.

"Oh, my God," Amy's shaky voice suddenly said behind me. She peered inside my apartment, timidly. "They broke everything. Russell, I'm so sorry."

I ignored her and kept glaring at my apartment. My clothes was torn up, my bathroom mirror was broken... I could see glass shards on the floor as well—my shower stall was probably smashed, too. They were pissed.

"Russell? Russell."

I held up a hand to silence her and took a further step into my apartment. Something crunched under my foot and I looked down. My coffee mug.

"Should I call the police?" Amy carefully asked, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I-I know you work with them, that's why I contacted you first, but I—"

"I got it," I said, reaching into my pocket. I dialed up Leon and waited two rings before the reply came.

"Talk to me. What happened?"

"There was a break-in, alright." I said, looking around to my smashed apartment. "Real mess. Everything's smashed."

"Christ. What did they steal? You have insurance, right? Did you keep any money packed away in there?"

"That's the thing..." I said, turning to look at Amy. "Nothing got stolen."

Amy frowned and Leon went quiet in the other end.

"Nothing stolen?" He finally said, exhaling heavily. "Possible robbery, but they didn't find anything they liked, so they just left?"

"So you think they broke in, looked around and saw nothing they wanted and then figured 'but let's trash this place before we go?'" I sarcastically snorted. "Come on, Leon, think. It's elementary."

The line went quiet again while he thought, and I used that time to study Amy. She was chewing on the inside of her cheek and was tipping on her feet. Anxious. Distressed. Scared.

"Shit, Russell. You shouldn't have provoked that mobster. I knew something like this was going to happen." Leon snapped, sounding exhausted with the paperwork that would surely follow after this break-in.

I scoffed, unimpressed. "The Russian mob is pissed about that, sure, but it's not enough for them to look me up and trash my apartment. This was a warning," I said, smirking while clenching and unclenching my fist. "I'm getting close, Leon, and they're telling me to back off."

I could practically see Leon frown deeply before my eyes. "Russ, I swear, if you're smiling right now—"

I hung up the phone and looked at Amy. She was still tipping on her toes, looking uncomfortable in her morning robe and white slippers. She finally spoke after minutes of debating whether or not she should. "Is the Russian mafia after you?"

I pushed my phone back in my pocket. "Not yet. They will be if I keep poking around."

"Then stop poking," She shakily said.

"That's never going to happen."

"Jesus, Russell, are you insane?" She snapped, wrapping her morning robe tighter around her skinny frame. "They're mafia! They have guns and drugs and—"

"—and a five-year-old girl who's mom they raped before killing," I interrupted. "A break-in doesn't scare me, if anything it thrills me. They just proved that we are getting close and they're not liking it. If they thought they could scare me away—"

"It scares me!" Amy cried, now shaking obviously. "I was on the other side of that wall! I heard them bust down your door, I was so scared they were going to break down my door too, and-and—"

I shut her up by pulling her into my body. She immediately broke down against my chest while I wrapped my arms around her, stroking her hair.

Good job, Detective. You managed to think of absolutely everything except for the woman you're fucking. Pat on the back.

"Amy," I said, rubbing her back. "I'm sorry they scared you. Don't waste your tears crying over them."

"I'm not crying about them, I'm crying about you," She sobbed, balling my shirt up in her fists. Her tears stained my tie. "I'm scared for you, Russell. What if one day you disappear because those mobsters got you? There'll be nobody to solve the mystery because you're dead."

I pressed my lips together, avoiding the words I really wanted to say; I don't care if I die. I wasn't going to say that, though. "Fear is intelligence in the face of danger, Amy. I'm not the one who should be scared and neither should you. The police is onto them, and with my help, they'll find that kid."

"And then what?" She whispered, sniffling. "The Mafia will come after you and they'll kill you for finding that girl. You can't win this one."

"What's the alternative? Leave that girl to be raised by the mobsters and wait 15 years until she's the one running the cartels?"

"At least you'd be alive another 15 years."

I pulled back, turning away from her, even if she tried to keep me there. "We are all going to die some day, Amy. Whether it be tomorrow or 15 years from now, it doesn't matter. We are all living corpses, just waiting to go to our grave. Why not die for something good?"

"Dammit, Russell, you don't get it do you?" She cried. "I care about you! You can make whatever deductions you want on how I look and what my appearance may tell you, but you can't deduce my heart! I'm scared for you," She whispered again. "I don't want to lose you."

I turned back around, granting her a look. "You barely know me, Amy."

"I know just enough about you to know you're a decent man," She said, wiping the tears away from her cheeks. "You're brilliantly smart, Russell. You have a gift, but its left you cynical and unattached because you're even more afraid of getting hurt than I am!" She now shouted. "You've made so many deductions about me, so allow me to repay the favor; You're a hypocrite! You say you have no interest in a relationship, yet you don't decline whenever I offer a warm body to hold. You might say you don't do love, but you were once married, and despite your effort to hide it, I can tell you miss her," She said, licking her lips from her salty tears that were now falling again. "I'm not her and I'll never be, but for now I'm a good replacement to you. I don't mind being one, because I need someone, too," She said, hiccuping as I slowly begun walking closer. "It's obvious we both have demons we try to suppress, but despite mine being the most obvious ones, you're still the one with the biggest shadow. You might act like you don't care, but you do," She cried, looking at me. "You do have feelings, so stop pretending you don't."

When she was finally done speaking, I took the liberty to softly embrace her and hold her in my arms. She accepted my comfort and sniffled against my shirt.

I slowly stroked her back, hearing her breathing even out. "Are you still scared?"

She nodded meekly, curling her hands to her chest.

"Would you like me to comfort you?"

She looked up at me, that look in her eyes. Wide, scared, yet her pupils expanded. I could tell what she needed, and I was more than willing to give it to her.

I leaned down and kissed her, letting my tongue swipe across her lower lip. She softly moaned, grabbing my tie.

Without much navigation needed, I pushed her backwards out of my apartment, closed my door behind me, then led her backwards into her own apartment, turning the knob. As soon as we were in, I kicked the door shut, my mouth never leaving hers for one second. I had her down on her bed the next moment where she wrapped her legs around me and mewled.

The next hours, as a gentleman, I could not divulge.

And yet...

"Aah, Russell!" Amy cried my name and met my thrust with her hips, throwing her head back into the pillows.

I kissed the valley between her breasts, keeping my one hand tucked under her body, the other one cupping her breast. I pushed inside her again, drawing another moan from her.

Her hands sought out my blond curls, burying her fingers into them, pulling. Sweat shone across her collarbones and down her breasts, along with the glistening trail of what I had done to her with my tongue. Her nipples were like knives in the air, begging me to kiss them, bite them. I did.

"Russell," She breathed, arching her back. "Yes..."

My eyes were focused on her breasts, the feeling of her warm centre clenching around me. With one final, deep thrust, I felt her climax.

"Russ!" She cried loudly, throwing her head back in ecstasy. I felt her inner walls spasm around me and felt her grip on my hair tighten. I watched her face as she ōrgasmed, listened to the sounds she made. As it finally subsided, she grew limp in my arms. She breathed heavily, eyes closed.

"Feeling better?" I asked her.

Her eyes slowly opened and she looked at me, a crease forming between her brows. "Why didn't you—"

I pulled out of her, getting to my feet. "I don't need it. Not today." I removed and discarded the empty condom in her bin. "Can I borrow your shower?"

Amy looked like she wanted to say something, but knew that if she did, she would get shut out. Instead she lowered her gaze to her bedsheets and silently nodded.

I stepped into her bathroom, turned on the water and stepped under the cold spray.

Focus. Stop thinking and focus.

I gritted my teeth and tried to force myself down, but my thoughts wouldn't leave me alone.

You put her in danger. You scared the shit out of her. No amount of pleasure you give her is going to make up for that. You have to end it with her. Whatever it is you have, you have to end it.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, I gripped myself. I stroked my length, hoping it would make it go away faster. Perhaps jerking off was my only choice right now. The cold water wasn't even helping me.

I heard the door to the bathroom open, and in my peripheral vision, I saw Amy walking in as naked as I'd left her. When she opened the shower stall, I closed my eyes. "No, Amy."

"Yes," She countered, turning on the warm water. I felt her hand still mine and take over. "Let me do this for you."

I watched as she knelt down in front of me, letting the warm water wet her body and hair. Her hand softly stroked my member, making it harden even more.

I squeezed my eyes shut, running a hand over my face. What the hell was I doing?

Her mouth came around my blunt tip, ripping a throaty groan from me. Her tongue swirled out and tasted me; This was going to be torture.

Her head dipped. Once. Twice. Thrice. I stopped counting and instead gripped the top edge of the shower stall with my hand. My other hand found the back of her head and followed her movements.

Why was I doing this? Why was I letting her do this? I was suppose to end it, not lead her on. This was most certainly leading her on.

She took me in so deep, I felt my crown reach the back of her throat. I let out an involuntary groan and gripped her hair. "Shit."

Her pace quickened, pumping me with her mouth, swallowing me, making me nearly lose control. Nearly. I could feel my sac constrict as she sucked. This couldn't happen.

I pulled out of her at the last second, turning away from her as I erupted. I cursed, nearly breaking the glass with my fist as my semen splurted to the tile floor while I rode it out.

Don't. Lose. Focus.

"Russell..." Amy's hand softly landed on my shoulder, squeezing it.

I turned back around, and without further ado, clutched her into my body. I held her so tightly I probably hurt her, but I couldn't relax. I buried my face in her neck, breathed slowly but heavily.

I felt her arms come around me, run through my wet hair, before rubbing my back. For a moment, we stood like that while the warm water started to go cold again.

"I have to stop seeing you." I finally said. My words were muffled against her neck, but I was certain she heard me. Her body stiffened.

And then she surprised me by saying; "I know."

Letting go of her, I pulled back. "You can't come to me anymore. You can't even know my first name. Only my last, the one that's on my door."

She quietly nodded, and I was thankful she had the brain to know why.

"I'm going to step out now," I said, looking down at her sunken face. "And then I'm going to leave."

She nodded again and didn't object when I did as I told. I dried myself off, got clothed, and then left. And I didn't look back.

• • •

Another chapter done, another one to write.