Chapter 27: Chapter 27

C H A P T E R - E L E V E N

He recovered first.

“Giabella.”

I enjoyed how he always pronounced my whole name.

“Hey, Detective Magtanggol.”

"You may call me Connor," he said, with a little smile.

"Um... alright."

Magtanggol's gaze ran over me before settling on Melinda.

"I apologize, Mrs. Gomez, but could you perhaps give Giabella and myself a moment?"

“Oh!" Melinda wept and leapt at the same moment. She'd been thinking about how attractive he was as well. “Sure. Without a doubt. "I'll just grab two beers from the fridge and fetch Ray and I a drink," she said as she ran to the kitchen door, "Nice to see you again, Detective Magtanggol."

"Connor," he clarified.

"Connor," Melinda said as she continued to flee.

Oh boy. Alone in my kitchen with Connor.No eight cops in the living room. There is no Falcone... yet. He was late.

I made my way into the kitchen. "Uh... is everything all right?" ”

His head sagged to one side. "Yeah, but why?" ”

"Uh... you're here, and... uh... you're an officer of the law, and my sister is in some severe problems, so..." I trailed off.

"I'm here because of your sister, not because there's anything wrong."

“Oh. Okay," I said.

"Or anything else is incorrect," he clarified.

“Oh. Okay," I repeated one again.

"I simply wanted to ask you a favor."

I took a deep breath and then said, "Oh. Okay.”

And, by the way, repeating those two words made me feel like an idiot, but what could I say? I was waiting for Falcone in a small black dress, and Magtanggol was hot, and I knew he was onto me, and he was coming to beg a favor. I had no idea what to do. The situation appeared to be ambiguous, not in a good or terrible sense, but in an unpredictable way.

He looked at me for a second, then said quietly, "Giabella, come here."

My feet pushed me closer to him without hesitation because I was a woman, and when a hot guy told you in a calm, deep, appealing voice to come to him, you just did it.

When I was a foot away from him, I pushed my feet to come to a halt.

When I came to a halt, he remarked gently, "You look lovely."

He complimented me on my appearance.

Nice.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"Are you going out with Falcone?"

”

My lips were squeezed together. I then nodded.

He laughed.

Then he straightened up and advanced into me, reducing the distance between us to about six inches.

Or even less.

Then his hand came up and rested on my waist, and before I could respond or move, he began talking.

"I don't want to insult you, but after last night, I feel compelled to say it."

Uh-oh.

I'd tilted my head up to peer into his lovely eyes, which appeared more soulful than ever.

“What?" I asked, trying not to get caught in his beautiful gaze.

He paused before saying, "Your sister, Isabelle, she's not very bright."

Oh. I had expecting something different. I didn't sure what it was, but it wasn't Isabelle since his hand was on my waist and he was in my area.

"I kind of know," I admitted.

"You probably know this as well, and if you didn't before the previous couple of nights, you do now, but she doesn't consider who she's dragging into this."

"Yes, I've discovered it in the previous few of nights."

He gave a nod. "So, the favor I'm asking is that if you see her again, please phone me," he asked.

My body tightened immediately, but he sensed it and moved closer, one hand grabbing my waist and his other hand elevating to do the same on the opposite side.

"I can't predict what will happen to her. If she plays it wisely, if we can reach an agreement, and if we can protect her. Giabella, there are no guarantees here. Whatever happens, she's safer with us than she is on the street, and you're surely safer if she's with us rather than on the street."

This seemed obvious to me.

He persisted. "And if we get her in custody for you, I'll do everything I can for her."

Oh. Wow.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

His fingers pushed in, squeezing me as his mouth smiled.

"Just so you know, I don't want you to try to detain her. But if you see her, she turns up, and makes contact with you, you're not helping her out, even if she says you are, by keeping it from us. Simply phone me and tell me what she said, where you saw her, and if you know where she is going."

"You want me to spy on my sister," I deduced.

"Yeah," he said, without hesitation or nonsense.

"All right," I said, without hesitation.

He grinned once more.

Then his fingers squeezed me again, and he murmured, "How're you handling this?"

Oh God, he was really sweet.

"Well, there are other life skills I'd rather learn, like how to bake the perfect soufflé, not that I can keep my head in a crisis involving fiery devastation, but I'm doing OK."

His brow furrowed. "Would you like to learn how to make the perfect soufflé?"

"Um..." I wasn't sure where to place my hands. There wasn't enough room, especially since I was carrying my clutch and shawl. But as his fingers held me again and drew me an inch closer, I couldn't help but lift them and put them on his chest. Hmm. That was much better.

"Not really," I continued. "I'd rather learn how to create chocolate chip cookie dough in thirty seconds or less."

He grinned once more.

"But if it was chocolate," I said, "I wouldn't mind learning to create the perfect soufflé."

His grin widened.

Yowza!

Then his smile faded, and his face and voice softened. "There's a lot of things going on, Giabella, scary shit. Are you positive you're okay? ”

Totally nice.

"Yeah," I said quietly, then added, "but I'm a bit afraid about Melinda." She's using the fire as an excuse to purchase a new sofa and take a few days off, but I can see she's unhappy; she's just not saying anything about it. And I don't want to bring it up if she doesn't want to discuss it, but Isabelle is Melinda's daughter, and I believe -"

"She loves you," he interrupted.

“What?”

"I could tell she cared about you last night and the night before. Isabelle is her daughter, and her daughter is causing you and your father problems. She feels accountable for it and is unsure what to do about it."

He was most likely correct.

Magtanggol went on. "You should talk to her about it." Assure her that you will not hold her accountable. Take that burden off her since she'll be concentrating on other crap as well, like the difficulty Isabelle has created for herself. She doesn't have to be concerned about how you feel about the problem Isabelle is causing you."

"You are right," I responded quietly.

While his profound, dark brown eyes observed, he lifted a hand and tucked hair behind my ear, then laid his fingers wrapped around my neck, his warm palm at my throat.

This was also enjoyable. Too sweet.

His gaze returned to me. “Yeah, I’m right.”

"We're not like this, Melinda, Dad, and me," I told him immediately, not knowing why I was doing it, only feeling compelled to.

"Isabelle is..." I shook my head, "she's not like the rest of us." I'm not sure why; she's always been like way. She's -"

"I know, Giabella," he murmured gently, as if he already knew.

I nodded, relieved, and his fingers squeezed my neck.

The backdoor suddenly opened, and Magtanggol and I turned to see Falcone standing there.

He was dressed similarly to how he was the first time I saw him. This time, the fitted shirt was dark blue, but it was still amazing. Jeans. Boots. Excellent belt. Black leather jacket in a terrific design that draped nicely on his broad shoulders. And he was holding a Nordstrom's bag.

No, he's holding a Nordstrom's shoebag.

Magtanggol's grasp on me tightened as my body tensed.

Falcone shut the door behind him but didn't look away from Magtanggol and me.

He then placed his hands on his hips, the sack rubbing on his thigh.

"Am I interfering with something?"

"No," I hastily said.

"Yeah," Magtanggol said simultaneously.

Magtanggol's hands dropped away as I took a cautious step back.

This is when Magtanggol and Falcone locked eyes in a macho, death match stare down.

I entered the nonverbal, unmoving battle before it became vocal and full of movement.

"He simply stopped over to inquire whether I seen or heard from Isabelle," I said to Falcone.

When I talked, Falcone's eyes shifted to me, but as soon as I finished, they returned to Magtanggol.

"Thought I made my point," he hissed.

"You did," Magtanggol said. "But you'll recall that I didn't agree."

"You don't exploit my girlfriend to advance your career," Falcone continued, as if Magtanggol hadn't said anything.

I pushed my lips together and became rigid, mostly because I felt a lot of wrath flowing off Magtanggol, and I could hear it in the rumbling of his hushed voice.

"Be careful," he cautioned.

"She's not in this," Falcone added. "She doesn't exist for Isabelle. That's what's inside and what's being spoken on the street."

"The last two nights have proven that false, Falcone, Isabelle is unpredictable, and you know it."

"Right, but any of that nonsense is delivered via me, not Gia."

"She gets desperate," Magtanggol said, "and by the way, Isabelle Gomez got desperate about a week ago, and she's going to make extreme decisions." Giabella is in that danger zone. Falcone, you and your crew are wonderful, but you can't cover her twenty hours hours a day, seven days a week and keep your other things in order."

"Leave that to me," Falcone said.

"She needs to know what she's doing," Magtanggol said.

"Yes, and I'll tell her," Falcone said.

Another macho guy death match stare down began, but thankfully, Magtanggol interrupted the stare down and glanced at me before it progressed to hand to hand fighting.

"You have my card," he remarked, and I nodded because I did have his card, but I had no idea what had happened to it. "I'll let myself out," he said, nodding again.

Then, directly in front of Falcone, he leaned in and kissed the hinge of my jaw, his lips raising goose bumps on my skin.

Oh boy.

He lifted his head, looked me in the eyes, and said, "Stay safe, if you need anything, even just to chat, contact me."

I agreed by nodding.

He strode out of the kitchen and into the living room, his glare slicing through Falcone.

I was watching with deep inhaling. Then, slowly, I turned to find Falcone hadn't moved. He was still standing there, hands on his hips, the Nordstrom's bag dangling from his fingers, his eyes on me with an un... hap... pee look in them.

Uh-oh.