Badge by K.L. Savage
Leaving her like that is at the top of the list of things I hated to do, but I had to. She deserves someone her age, someone who isn’t so damn negative about life, and someone who isn’t hated more days than not. She deserves a good life. And even though I’d love to see if I could give it to her, I know I can’t.
I lock the doors of the truck and lean back, licking my lips because I swear I can still taste her. She’s sweet, timid, and soft. My lips are tingling in memory. I regret not kissing her back when she asked.
Kissing her would only lead to more pain.
There’s a voice in the back of my head asking me when I’m going to move on and actually begin my life again. It’s been so long, what’s the point now? Happiness is for young people, not men just trudging through the last half of their life.
Jerking the gear shifter with more aggression than necessary, I drive out of the clubhouse parking lot, not missing Reaper standing on the porch with crossed arms as he watches me drive away.
I’m getting into a deep hole with him and I don’t know how to get out.
Just be honest. Tell him what you’re up to. Tell him about Amber. Tell him about the struggles. He will understand.
It’s something to think about. Meeting Hope has changed something inside me. As silly as it sounds, she’s given me hope that there’s something more out there besides the misery I’ve imprisoned myself in.
My mind gets lost in dreams of the future, something I haven’t thought about in a long time, but when I imagine it, Hope is by my side. We’re raising Faith together, Bullseye doesn’t fully hate me for loving and fucking his daughter, and I’m happy.
Happy.
Now there’s a thought I could get lost in.
Before I know it, Lussuria is coming to view, and my happy bubble is popped. The last thing I feel like dealing with is Moretti’s Syndicate. The Ruthless Kings have an agreement with Mateo and we make money for each other. As long as that doesn’t change, then we are okay.
I pull around to the entrance, choosing valet because if I’m going to be here, I’m going to get the royal fucking treatment. The young, eager valet attendant rushes around the front of the truck, nearly tripping over his own two feet when he finally stands in front of me. I toss him the keys and he juggles them for a minute before they fall on the ground.
I raise a brow. “First day?”
He bends down to pick up the keys and sighs. “Is it that obvious?”
“Only a little, kid. Relax. You’ll do fine.”
“I really need this job. I can’t mess it up.”
I glance down at his name tag and see that his name is Hayden. “Hayden, you put in an honest effort, and it will get recognized. Moretti is a good guy to work for.” Minus the fact that if you steal from him, he’ll kill you, but I think that’s a little tidbit I can leave out.
“Thanks, Mister. I’ll make sure your truck is safe. I’ll drive real slow.” He gulps, wipes his brow, and climbs up into the driver’s seat.
I bet he just recently got his license too. What the hell is Mateo thinking, letting this kid drive?
I grab my wallet and pull out a fifty-dollar bill to make his day. “You can only get better at your job from here, kid.” I tuck the money in his palm and leave him staring at the money in his hand. “You’ll be okay,” I state and stroll through the automatic doors to the casino as if I own the place.
The lights are low, lending the place a dark atmosphere. A loud hum of conversation ripples through the air. A man in a black suit sees me and holds his fingers against his ear as if he is listening to someone. He comes straight at me, his arms not touching his sides because he is so large. I hold my ground, bracing myself for unexpected impact.
“Mr. Moretti is in the club. Follow me.”
Of course that’s where he is
The big guy spins on his expensive Italian leather shoes and heads in the direction of the very elite club. I follow close behind, hearing the ring of a slot machine as someone wins. Cheers echo throughout the expensive casino floor as the waitresses slither in and out from the celebratory gamblers to bring people their drinks.
When we come to the doors of the club, I expect to go inside, but Mateo is there, hovering like a ghost in the shadows. His red tie against his black suit is all I can see before he steps forward, becoming completely submerged in the light.
“Where’s Nora?”
“Safe,” is all he replies with. “No way am I letting her out of my sight while dead bodies are popping up. Follow me.”
Jesus. It’s one of the reasons I hate coming here. I’m always following someone somewhere. Why couldn’t the big bodyguard guy just take me to the body? I wait for Mateo to start explaining the bodies, when and why they have popped up, but he remains silent as he takes me through the maze of the casino.
I exhale in annoyance. “Where are we going?”
“I’m going to show you where the bodies have been dumped and then I’m going to take you to the morgue.”
I almost stop in my tracks. “You have a fucking morgue in this casino? Is that even legal?”
He deadpans me with a ‘really?’ expression, lifting a black brow. “What’s a man without a way to dispose of bodies without anyone knowing? Well, now you know, so I’d remember that little detail if I were you.”
“So you cremate people here too?”
He spins on his heel and points a finger at me. “Could you keep your voice lower? Don’t act so surprised. I’m not dumb enough to dump a body in the water or bury them. These days, dead bodies always show up. I have a fucking business to run. If you aren’t the guy for this job, tell me now, and you can go.”
For twenty thousand dollars, I’ll do the job fucking naked.
Not that I’d tell him that. He’d probably like it too much.
“Lips are sealed.”
He eyes me one last time before his shoes begin to click against the floor again. The ceilings are tall with paintings and carvings. There are black chandeliers every few feet and on either side of us are floor-to-ceiling windows behind where women are dancing seductively. The room is dark except for the spotlight on her and the silver pole.
“She can’t see us, but we can see her.”
Seems unfair to her.
We finally reach an exit door and Mateo opens it to the hot Vegas air. Unlike some other establishments, Mateo keeps his alleyways and unused areas outside very clean and nice. There’s no garbage anywhere to be found. It’s just… clean, but it isn’t fenced off so anyone can come and go as they please.
There’s a large circle of blood on the ground in front of me. I look around and see a few more. “All the victims in the morgue?”
“Yes. I can’t let them rot out here. It will bring a terrible stench, and nothing smells worse than death,” he says casually.
“Okay, since you aren’t too forthcoming, can you tell me if the bodies were male or female?”
“All female. All hookers.” He glances away and his jaw jumps. “None of them had families. We checked… but…”
“—But they were all pregnant, weren’t they?” I ask sadly, a pit forming in my stomach.
He kicks a piece of gravel and looks at the sky. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“That’s why you called me. I’m familiar with the case already.” I want nothing to do with this. One woman was enough for me, but multiple? And children? I’ll go insane.
“None of the babies have survived. When the women are dumped here, their children are on top of them. We see it on the security feed and we come as fast as we can but we’re always too late.”
“Someone must know you have a way of getting rid of the bodies. Mateo Moretti doesn’t want the cops looking into him either, so whoever is doing this is smart.”
“We didn’t find one of the children.”
My world tilts when I stare at him. “What the fuck are you talking about? Why would you wait to tell me that now?”
“We’ve checked everywhere. We can’t find the baby. The mother didn’t make it. She’s downstairs if you need to see her.”
I shake my head and lace my fingers behind my neck. “We have a serial killer,” I say out loud, the admission rocking the ground under me. I know I’m standing where the last body was, because the gravel is still wet with her blood, unlike the other spots where they have turned from red to a deep brown.
“I’m going to take a look around and try to find the baby.”
“We have looked.”
“But I haven’t,” I snap at him. “This is where I excel, not you.”
He gives a slow head bow. “Very well. I’ll leave you to it. Call me if you need anything.” Mateo goes inside, leaving me standing in a yard that feels way too much like a cemetery.
Four bodies in less than a week. The cops need to know about this, but then it will be national news—which it should be. All pregnant women in Vegas need to be on alert, but the cops aren’t going to care about three hookers being killed. Those are just the facts, no matter how hard it is to accept.
Okay, I have no idea where to start. The killer is most likely a male in his late twenties or early thirties. He has past traumas that have not been resolved, most likely with his mother, or maybe a wife.
I hate profiling because there is always a chance that I’m completely wrong. Half the time I profile, I feel like I’m describing myself and it leaves me unsettled.
I walk around the casino, taking the skinny alleyway. It’s the cleanest damn alley I’ve ever seen. I’ll check every damn dumpster in Vegas if I have to. I come up on the first one and take the handheld flashlight I have in my pocket, click it on, and peer inside. Only rotten fruit and black trash bags.
I close the lid, scrunching up my face from the terrible smell. I make my way around the casino, peering into every hole, gutter, and trashcan there is. And when I find nothing, I make my way to the next casino, then the next, and the next.
I’m not even halfway down the strip before an idea hits me.
What if this person is targeting people who think they won’t be good mothers? Maybe the killer thinks they are doing the babies a favor—but why leave them to die? I haven’t figured that out yet, but I’m wondering if any of the victims were going to give their babies up for adoption. I shoot Moretti a quick text and ask him to send me photos of the faces of the victims. I’m going to head back to the adoption center and see if I can’t get any information from Mr. Zachary. He’s just become number one on my suspect list.
Fuck, now I have to walk all the way back to the Lussuria in this heat.
Actually, no I don’t. I pull out my phone and see three image notifications from Mateo and swipe them to the side. I don’t want to see them right now.
I order an Uber and two minutes later I’m in a smelly, but air-conditioned car while the disgusting sweat all over my body dries. It isn’t long before I’m stepping out of the car and Hayden is looking at me from the valet podium confused.
“Can you get the truck, please?” He bobs his head and hurries to the garage, tripping over the curb that separates the nice garden and the parking lot.
The kid is a wreck, but a wreck that means well.
My phone dings and it’s another message from Mateo.
Leaving so soon?
I tap out a message in return.
Following a lead. I’ll keep you informed.
I don’t get a reply, but I do get a notification about a wired bank transfer to my account for ten thousand dollars.
It’s followed by another ding to alert me of a text message. Other half on completion.
Thank you, I reply.
Discretion is an expensive thing, remember that.
And the threat is noted.
Hayden comes with my truck, driving one mile an hour it seems, creeping along the road with a line of cars behind him as he finally turns to the front and slowly steps out of the vehicle. The truck is on, the engine grumbling loudly in the acoustics of the tunnel. I hand the kid another fifty and give him a pat on the back before I jump into the driver’s seat.
It’s time to go to see what the adoption agency has to say.
I’m brainstorming while I drive, missing drunk tourists and trying not to hit other cars. I go through my profile again, but then remind myself that it could be possible our killer is a woman. Maybe she thinks she’s saving the babies, or maybe she’s taking the choice away from the mother. My only question is why she leaves the babies to die? Why not take them to the adoption center?
My mind is lost in trying to connect the dots when I notice I’m at the light before having to park. It’s a little after lunch; the streets aren’t busy since people are going back to work. I have the choice of spots I want. I take the closest since I’m so fucking tired of walking—and right as I step foot on the sidewalk, I hear something.
A gurgle or a cry. I’m not sure which. I look around to make sure I’m not hearing things, but I don’t see mothers with strollers or any kids. I must be hearing things. But as I take another step, I hear it again.
Definitely a cry.
I follow it.
I pass the adoption center and pass an additional vacant building before I’m turning left into the alley. The cry is stronger, and I hurry to the dumpster, then lift the lid. A beautiful baby is wrapped in a bloody t-shirt, the cord still attached to the placenta. The little one is shaking and pale. I don’t have time to call 9−1−1, so I bend down, pick him up gently, keeping the placenta attached because I’m too afraid for him not to have it right now. Does it do anything? I don’t fucking know.
“I got you. It’s okay. I got you,” I croon at him, and he amazingly settles when he feels me against him. My heart stumbles a beat and his tiny body in my hands makes me feel protective and strong. I have to do anything and everything to make sure he’s okay.
I can’t take him to the hospital. He’ll get lost in a sea of babies and go into foster care or get adopted by a family that will abuse him—or worse, he won’t get adopted at all, because from the looks of it, he is a crack baby.
“You just need to hold on for me, okay? We’re going to get you somewhere safe.” Fuck. Fuck! I know it. I feel it. I’m going to be stuck with this little dude because I don’t have the heart to send him somewhere else, a place I don’t trust. I trust myself, which is all that matters. I run to the truck and hold him against me with one arm while I drive, hoping no one saw me.
The placenta falls to the left of me between the door and the seat, since it is so heavy and there is no room between us.
He’s quivering and my eyes begin to burn, thinking about Amber and what she must have felt like during her last moments. Did she cry? Did she shake? All I know is she needed me, and I wasn’t there.
All my life, I’ve pushed myself away from kids the best I can, lying to myself that I hate them when that is just not true.
I’m just too afraid to love them again, because what if something happens and I’m left shattered? I can’t go through that again.
It isn’t fair.
I suppose that’s life.
I flip on the lights I installed in the truck and speed home, using the siren as my advantage to slice five minutes off my usual drive time to the clubhouse.
Yeah, I’m not a cop anymore, but so what? They’ll never know
The gate is open at the clubhouse and I slam the truck in park, leaving it in the middle of the parking lot. I gather the baby and the placenta again, hoping that is what’s keeping him alive, and keep him against my shoulder. My boots pound up the steps and I kick the door open. Doc is sitting on the couch with Joanna and their baby Dean.
Thank God.
“Doc, I need you!” I shout, running into the living room.
“Is that a baby?” he asks in surprise.
“He was in a dumpster. You have to help him. I don’t know what to do. He’s shaking. I think he might be going through withdrawal.”
“Oh my god.” Joanna holds Dean tighter to her chest and Mary clutches her stomach as if to protect it.
Everyone knows the safest place for a child is inside the womb, where the mother can protect the baby and give him or her everything they need in order to thrive. In today’s world, it seems not even the safest place in the world is safe any longer.
“What the hell, Badge?” Reaper notices me as he comes out of the room we hold Church in and follows me and Doc to the basement. Doc has a few incubators and NICU items now since everyone here is having kids and he wanted to be prepared. “Why didn’t you take him to the hospital?” He places him on the table and cuts the cord immediately, then begins to take his vitals.
“I couldn’t. I… didn’t want him to be forgotten. You have to save her,” I tell him.
“Him,” Doc corrects, his brows furrowing in the middle. “You mean him, don’t you?”
I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.” Doc can’t save Amber.
She’s dead.
“Where the hell did you find this baby?”
“I was walking, and I heard a cry, so I followed the sound.” My hands are shaking as I lie to my Prez. I know it’s not technically a lie, but I’m leaving out enough important context to know that it’s going to bite me in the ass one day. I’ll be punished, but I don’t care. I need something that’s only mine right now. I don’t want the club to find out and ruin this career I’m building. I need a little more time before I can speak honestly.
“It’s a good thing you found him,” Doc says, putting him on a ventilator.
“What are you doing? He needs to breathe.”
“If I don’t give his lungs a rest, he won’t be breathing on his own for much longer,” Doc informs me.
“Listen, let Doc work, okay? He’s okay, now. You did the right thing, Badge. Go get cleaned up, okay? Badge?” Reaper snaps his fingers in front of me and I blink, being yanked out of my memories.
“All I can do is wait?” The words crack like the old edges of a sidewalk, unstable and shaking.
“That’s all we can do,” Reaper reassures me. “We will keep you updated.”
“I hate waiting. Waiting is never good.”
Reaper cocks his head at the negative comment. “Waiting can also mean healing, Badge.”
I’ve been waiting decades for the healing to begin. Waiting doesn’t do shit. I turn around and leave, helpless once again to save an innocent child. I drag my feet up the steps, knocking the tips of my boots against the edge. When I open the basement door, it’s like all the adrenaline tumbles out of me. I’m exhausted.
Knives, Skirt, Tongue, Daphne, and Hope are in the kitchen, but I can’t look at them. I can’t see how I failed them too.
Time slows as I turn the corner of the hallway to get into my room. I need to shower. I have blood all over me and then I need a drink.
“Badge? Are you okay?” Tank, the big teddy bear, calls out the question from the back door. “What’s with the blood?”
I don’t answer him. I dive into my room and slam the door shut. The last thing I want is to be around anyone. I need space. I peel off my clothes, leaving them in a mound on the floor. I don’t even bother to flip the light on. Seeing the blood on me will just make me feel worse. I step into the shower and rotate the handle. A rush of cold water hits me in the face and a shiver runs down my spine.
I can’t do this anymore.
I place my red hands against the tile, smearing the blood along the wall as I hang my head. Rivers of light pink drops run down the tile, hanging on the curved edge of the tub before finding their way to the drain.
It’s time I let go of the pain, but I don’t know how. I’m a grown fucking man and all I ever think about is what I lost, but that loss was… monumental. It changed my life forever.
