Two Sides to Every Story (Love Spectrum Romance) (2 page)

“At least maybe then you won’t think I’m crazy for trusting Adrian.”

“You’re hoping for more confrontation with the police?”

Angela shuddered, remembering the fear she’d felt only moments before, remembering the Hispanic cop with the green eyes, his hand on the butt of his gun. She wasn’t looking to die. She was looking for answers. Her death would not help her brother.

“Thanks for talking to me,” she said abruptly. “I’ll call you after I move in.”

Angela crumpled the ticket she was still holding and threw it on the floor of her car. There was a time when her heart had not been filled with such anger, such rage. All that had ended two years ago when her brother had been beaten by police only a couple of blocks from the Damen police station. They’d accused him of gang activity, attempting to deliver drugs, and resisting arrest.

Angela didn’t believe it. No one would be stupid enough to do that right in their faces, not so close to the police station. Any Black person with a lick of sense knew the reputation of the police department for profiling. And considering the increasing number of shootings of Blacks on a weekly if not daily basis, one would have to be a stone fool to try some mess like that. Besides, she’d looked in her brother’s eyes and seen no deception. He’d told her it had to be a case of mistaken identity or profiling. She didn’t know which but she was going to find out.

Chapter 2

Angela sat in her new apartment. She had nothing to do now but wait. Hopefully she could return to her home in a few months but for now this was home. She looked at the rented furniture, cringing at the cost. She’d had no choice in that either. She couldn’t bring her own furniture. Her parents had to believe she was out of town. It was good to know that they would be taking care of her home while she was gone. Only her brother and her cousin would know where she really was. If she encountered the private investigator they’d hired, he wouldn’t know her. All he’d ever seen of her was her checks.

Lucky for Angela, her parents always used the cell to reach her. Her job as a technical writer with Kline, Inc., which she could do at home, provided her with the means and the time to look for the mysterious woman who could alibi for her brother.

She had a reason for undertaking the investigation herself. She didn’t believe the investigator was doing all that he could. Even as she thought it, Angela knew the man didn’t have the one piece of information that she possessed: a name. Even so, she still thought he could do more. And when she found the person she was after, she was personally going to fire the investigator. Until then he could keep looking. Besides, they were working different angles.

Angela felt chilled and wrapped her arms around her body to stop a sudden tremor. She hoped that what she was doing would help her brother. Her plans did not include getting arrested by the cops before she even moved into the neighborhood. The possibility of her parents having grief over another child was definitely not on her agenda.

She smoothed out the ticket she’d retrieved from her car. At least that gave her a chance to focus on something other than her extreme loneliness. She didn’t like lying to her parents about what she was doing, but she couldn’t tell them. They would be worried, and in the last two years they’d had enough of that to last them the rest of their lives.

Angela thought about the cop who’d given the ticket to her. Something about the man niggled at her way down deep. She told herself it had nothing to do with his green eyes but she could see herself getting lost in them. She shuddered and shook that thought away. She wasn’t there to drown in a man’s eyes. She was there to find Teresa Cortez, the woman her brother said knew the truth.

Still, thoughts of the green-eyed Hispanic pushed their way into her mind. She wondered how he’d shocked her and made her burn with just his touch.

* * *

Raphael did his job the same as he did every day, only now there was something just a little bit off-kilter. He found that he was on the alert for a speeder, and not just any speeder. He was looking for the woman who’d had such ice in her eyes when she’d glared at him that it had seemed to stop his heart.

In the few minutes it had taken to issue her a citation he’d seen a lot that she’d more than likely wish he hadn’t, like the visitor pass on the passenger side of her car that told him she’d recently been to Statesville. Maybe that was the reason for her hostility, but he doubted it.

Despite her anger he’d noticed her big beautiful brown eyes.
Iced topaz
, he thought. And the sound of her voice had been pleasant in spite of the sarcastic bite. Raphael bit his lip. His thoughts should not be going in this direction but he couldn’t help it. The woman had intrigued him; he wouldn’t deny it.

For days all that he’d thought about was the way his skin had first tingled and then burned on touching her, and his godmother’s prediction.
I shouldn’t be listening to Titi Nellie
, Raphael thought.
She’s just a foolish old woman. There is no way that a person’s hatred could stop your heart
.

Yet his had stopped for a moment.

And it made him wonder.

Raphael laughed at his foolishness. There was definitely no way that love could restart it. But for the first time in his life Raphael was wondering if he’d been right to shun the thought of loving someone.

Why was he thinking of these things? He didn’t want a woman in his life; his job was too dangerous. Still, he wondered how it would feel to have someone love him as much as the Black woman had hated him. He had to admit that would be some powerful loving, because the woman’s loathing was definitely strong.

* * *

Angela came from the store loaded with bags and rushing to avoid getting a parking ticket. She groaned and walked faster when she saw she was too late. “I was only in the store for a second.” she said to the police officer.

He glanced at her and she immediately recognized the crystal green eyes of the cop who’d given her the ticket days earlier.

“Are you handicapped?” he asked her.

Smart ass
, she thought and opened her trunk, forcing his foot from the bumper. “Look, I couldn’t find a parking spot.”

“You mean one that was close to the door?” His eyebrow shot up. “Handicapped parking, in case you weren’t aware, is meant for those with disabilities.” He smiled. “Physical disabilities, I mean.”

Angela glared. “Just give me the ticket. In case you haven’t met your ticket quota for today, I just saw two squad cars parked in the handicapped spot at the donut shop down the street.”

When she snatched at the ticket, his fingers accidentally brushed the back of her hand and she stared at him. This was not her imagination. Angela sucked in a breath and eyed him curiously, wanting to ask if he’d felt it, knowing that because of their little war she couldn’t.

The officer walked away, but not before Angela saw him glance over his shoulder toward her. His expression was one of bewilderment. She got in her car knowing he’d answered her question. He’d felt it too.

* * *

As Angela waited inside the courtroom, she looked around, then smiled. The dark-haired, green-eyed cop wasn’t around. In the past weeks she’d seen him several times but had managed to avoid direct contact with him. Twice he’d been poised to write her a ticket, but on spotting her had turned in the opposite direction and closed the flap on his book of tickets. It had been evident to her that he no more wanted to see her again than she wanted to see him. That thought gave her confidence that he wouldn’t be in the courtroom. She settled back in her seat, more determined than ever to plead innocent. Who could dispute it?

“Angela Reed.”

Angela blinked. The rough gravely voice that called her name sounded impatient, and the judge looked it. She gathered her belongings; it was time for justice. She walked to the podium as the judge spoke to the person standing alongside him. A second later she heard a voice and turned. The green-eyed cop was walking in the door heading toward the podium, smirking in her direction as he made his way to the front. She glared at him. Nothing had changed. She was still determined to declare her innocence.

“Fifty dollars’ fine and traffic school. It looks like you may not be familiar with the rules of safety, or why they’re in place.”

“But…,” Angela protested, wondering what had happened to her plea. It was as if the judge had not heard her. She shouldn’t have to go to traffic school. “I pleaded innocent. You’re not listening to me.”

“Be thankful that this won’t be on your license. Three moving violations and your license would be suspended. So I suggest you slow down.”

The same gravelly voice called out, “William Davis,” indicating that Angela had been summarily dismissed. She glared again at the cop who was staring back at her, a curious expression that she took as a sneer on his face.

* * *

Raphael felt the same sense of danger emanating from the woman that he had the day he’d stopped her. He immediately scanned her body for bulges and saw none that shouldn’t be there. What he saw was a slender, rather short, beautiful Black woman with shoulder length black hair that she wore in a ponytail. The only bulges he saw were in the right places. A nicely rounded rear and ample bosom, he thought as his eyes met hers. Not too much, and not too little.

She’d caught him staring at her and was again glaring at him. He could swear he could see a wavy line coming from the woman toward him, and the word
energy
flashed into his mind.

The woman wasn’t carrying a weapon; she was the weapon. She was a danger to him, and he should do everything in his power to stay away, yet he found himself searching his mind for ways to see her again. He had to find out more about her, about her reaction to him, his reaction to her. She continued glaring and again he froze, his heart seizing until she looked away and released him from her arctic hold.

* * *

Angela entered the building and looked for directions to the room where traffic school was being held. Finding the room, she sat down to wait for someone to come and tell her what she knew already. She was not to speed, it was against the law, it could get someone killed. Well, so could beating them almost to death. Her eyes lifted and widened. There was no way the green-eyed cop should be here. Angela marched to the front of the room. “Why are you teaching this class?”

“For money,” he replied. She closed her eyes and counted to ten.

“Are you doing this to annoy me?” She watched while he looked around the room.

“There are at least fifty people in this room that have disobeyed the law. Do you think you’re so special that I’ve singled you out? Listen, if you don’t want to be here you’re free to leave. Reschedule. It’s your choice.” He turned away from her and she stood for a moment, unsure. She didn’t have time for this. She was not spending another Saturday in a musty room being told what she already knew. “I’m staying,” she announced through clenched teeth. He held a paper toward her and didn’t speak. Her eyes remained on him. She wasn’t sure if she’d intended to touch him, but the tips of their fingers met, and for the third time she felt a definite electrical shock followed by the same burning sensation. Angela snatched the paper away angrily, wondering what the heck was happening.

Raphael pretended not to notice her reaction to him, or his to her. But he was intrigued. The entire eight hours the woman glared at him, not smiling, not speaking. Wanting to make sure that he knew she hated him.

He knew. And Raphael was beginning to have a funny feeling. He no longer thought the woman his godmother had been talking about was Puerto Rican. He didn’t understand how anyone anywhere could have as much hatred for him as this woman seemed to have. All of this couldn’t be over a couple of tickets. Her hatred of him seemed personal, and he wondered why.

* * *

Raphael approached the car that had flown by him as though he wasn’t there. “Damn I don’t believe it. The woman’s crazy,” he muttered as he walked to her car. He’d followed her for nearly two blocks with the lights and siren on before she finally stopped.

“License and insurance.”

“You’re beginning to make this a habit. It’s becoming irritating.”

“You’re speeding. Look, I’ll make it easy for you. Don’t speed on my beat and you won’t get a ticket.”

“Are you from the Damen station?”

“Yes, why?”

“I’m going to report you.”

“For what?”

“For harassment.”

“And just what have I done to harass you?”

Angela looked into the emerald green eyes and spoke softly. “Because you’re a cop, and just because you breathe.” She scanned the front of his shirt. “You, Officer Rafe Remeris, are a symbol of everything that I hate. I would suggest that you find something to do with your time other than stopping me.”

Raphael backed a bit away from the car, from the intoxicating presence of the woman sitting inside. He mentally shook himself, releasing the strange hold that had suddenly come over him.

He looked at the woman’s driver’s license. “You live in Naperville. Why are you always speeding here? Are the traffic laws different in the suburbs?”

Sudden laughter bubbled up into her throat, but Angela quickly tamped it down. She’d not expected humor. She had been going for anger. She ignored him, preferring not to speak. The man caused too many extraordinary things to happen when she was in his presence. Her entire body was on fire. She could feel the heat rising to her face. All she wanted was for him to write the ticket and leave her alone.

“So that’s it,” Raphael said smiling. “In Naperville you’re allowed to fly down the streets doing sixty in a thirty-mile-per-hour zone. I thought we covered all of this in traffic school. This doesn’t speak well of my abilities as a teacher if my students can’t remember not to speed. How long has it been, Ms. Reed?”

She didn’t answer, so Raphael did. “A week? Maybe it’s not me; maybe you’re slow.” He cocked his head and looked into the window, directly into her icy stare.

“I’m letting you off with a warning today, ma’am. Please have yourself a good day.” He flipped her license over to the empty passenger seat, noting again that a fresh visitor pass was sitting there.

Angela sat for a moment holding her breath, sucking her belly inward toward her spine. She didn’t want the cop touching her again. But when he flipped her license past her, it angered her to know that he also didn’t want to touch her. Her eyes slid over to the license and landed on the Statesville visiting pass, and she cringed.

The knowledge that the cop now possessed personal information about her angered her further, and fueled her decision. She was a few blocks away from the station, and turned at the next light and headed back toward Twenty-third and Damen.