DEVIANT VANDALS CHAPTER 11
- Jenna Malin
- 6 days ago
- 11 min read
"SITUATIONAL AWARENESS"
EVELYN
The street is cold, dark, and quiet. Neither of us have spoken for an hour, not since the sunset sky transitioned to dark blue. I rub my tired eyes, which are fused to my dimmed laptop screen, with a heavy sigh.
“Are you bored, Hale?” Kendry grumbles from the driver’s seat before taking a sip of his long-gone-cold Americano.
I raise an eyebrow at him, all stoic and still. “Aren’t you? We’ve been waiting here for hours, and someone,” I poke him in the bicep, “doesn’t want to play any fun stakeout games.”
He glares at my retreating finger. “Stakeouts aren’t supposed to be fun.”
“They could be if you weren’t so afraid of little ol’ me.”
This earns me another glare, which I counter with a sickly sweet smile. I tuck my chin into my shoulder and bat my eyelashes, but he goes back to glaring at the windshield. I groan in frustration and shut my laptop, cloaking us in further darkness.
“Come on, Kendry, this,” I gesture at the space between us with a cold back-and-forth finger, “is an excellent opportunity for us to get to know one another.”
“We’re not gonna do that.”
“We’re gonna be stuck together for the foreseeable future, so, why not?”
“Because I’m not your friend,” he snaps, eyes narrowing at me. “I don’t want to be your friend.”
“I’m not asking you to be, but it would be nice to have something that resembles a civil conversation.”
He bites his bottom lip. I wait for him to retort, to argue, but he stays silent, even as I continue to stare him down. It makes me wonder if Malisa’s theory rings true. I decide to test it.
“God, did your last partner burn you that bad?” His head whips over so fast, I swear I hear each vertebra in his neck snap. I exhale hard through pursed lips and lift my hands in surrender. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Hale.”
“And neither do you!” I counter. He starts to interrupt, but I don’t let him. “I’m not asking you to blindly trust someone you don’t know anything about. I’m asking you to ask me.”
“Ask you what?”
“Anything! What’s my favorite color? What’s my favorite band or TV show? Do I have a weird thing about seafood?”
He scoffs. “I already know what your favorite TV show is.”
I admit: I’m taken aback by that statement. I stare at him and wait for the punchline, but he stays quiet.
“You do?”
“Yeah.” He glares at me sideways. “The X-Files.”
I roll my eyes, but I don’t dare tell him that he’s right. It’s not my all-time favorite, but definitely in my top ten, mostly for nostalgic reasons: my mom had a massive crush on David Duchovny, so we could only watch it when my father was gone on one of his ‘business trips.’
“Just because I mentioned the show doesn’t mean—”
“You’re telling me you don’t see a little bit of yourself in your kindred spirit, Spooky Mulder?”
I sharpen my glare. “Enough with that shit already.”
“You started this shit, Spooky.”
“What are you, two years old?”
“What are you, a dirty cop?”
“Jesus Christ, no!” I run my hands over my face. This is getting exhausting. “I’m just saying that, if I can give you an answer, I will, but you have to ask me, just try to get to know me. And if you still end up hating me, at least you’ll hate me for an actual reason. Don’t just sit there pouting like a bitch, because you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”
But he keeps his mouth shut, grinding his teeth and glaring at me. I match it with my own, silence ringing loudly in my ears at the seconds tick by. Kendry looks away first, out at the street before us.
“You know what? Fine. Whatever. My last partner was a raging misogynist, too.” I reopen my laptop, and the browser reopens right where I left off. “He was at least fun on stakeouts, but—”
“I am not a misogynist.”
“Oh, so it’s just me you have a problem with, even though you don’t know enough about me to have a problem?”
He looks back at the street with a shake of his big head. “Are you done?”
“I don’t know, I might say it a few more times for good measure.” I cross my arms as he rolls his eyes all the way over to me. “Why?”
He points out the window without taking his eyes off me. “Because that might be our guy.”
I sit up and follow his finger toward the man approaching the apartment building. I grab my mini-scope off the dashboard and peer into it.
“That’s him.” I tuck my laptop under the seat. “He was at the crime scene.”
“It’s pretty dark. You’re sure?”
“He asks the girl with photographic memory.” I roll my eyes. “Yeah, Kendry, I’m sure.”
“Then let’s get him.”
We both exit the car and shut our doors in tandem, meeting on the sidewalk. I shudder as the crisp air cuts through my bones, my breath escaping in the form of clouds.
“Don’t you have a coat?” he mutters as we get closer to Lucas, who’s approaching the entrance of his building.
“Considering I’m in the middle of renovations, it’s a little low on my shopping list.” I rub my hands together before cupping and blowing into them. “Think he’ll run?”
He rolls his shoulders. “They always do.”
I smirk. Perhaps a challenge is in order. I smack his bicep with the back of my hand and grin suggestively. “Twenty bucks I catch up to him first.”
The corner of his lip twitches with an almost-smile before he unzips his coat and mutters, “I’ll take that bet.”
So, he’s competitive. My grin widens. I can work with that.
Lucas sees us out of the corner of his eye and freezes halfway up the front stairs. His face is obscured by his hood, but it’s undeniably him—the same guy from the street corner.
“Lucas Robertson!” Kendry flashes his badge, and I open my jacket to reveal mine. “Defiance PD—” Lucas hops over the railing and bolts in the opposite direction. “Damn, he’s fast,” Kendry mutters as we both give chase. He points at Lucas’ fleeing back, turning right at the end of the street. He barks, “Stay on him!” before cutting into an alley and disappearing.
“Cheater,” I huff, rushing around the corner in the direction Lucas fled in. I dodge a post office drop box and a bystander and spot Lucas already crossing the street, dodging cars and people alike. I shout at him to stop and sprint after him when he doesn’t.
He turns a sharp left corner between buildings, and when I turn in, he’s climbing over a chain-linked fence. By the time I catch up, he’s dangling on the other side, so I jump and throw myself against it to knock him off. We both bounce off, but I land on my feet, whereas he falls to the wet, littered concrete with a pained shout. I starting climbing up but before I can haul my ass over it, he scrambles to his feet and bolts.
I hit the ground at a run as he approaches the gaping mouth of the alley. “Lucas, stop!”
I sprint, hurdling over the fallen debris he toppled in my way as he darts for the street. As he breaks through to the sidewalk, Kendry materializes out of thin air, yanking him off to the side and out of sight.
There goes my twenty dollars.
“Get off me!”
I hear grunts and blows landing a split second before I hit the sidewalk. Kendry leaps away from Lucas with a shout, eyes wide as the perp turns on me just as I see the reflection of streetlights glinting off the tip of his knife.
“Knife!” Kendry shouts in warning as Lucas slices the air in front of me. I jump back just in time, and then he darts into the street, but Kendry’s hot on his heels.
Neither of them sees the car.
I shriek, “Don’t!” over the sound of squealing brakes and screeching tires. I seize Kendry’s arm and yank him back with all my might. A car horn blares in my ear, and we tumble backward, falling in a heap onto the damp, cold sidewalk. Onlookers gasp all around us and, with the full weight of his body on mine, Kendry groans in my ear, bracing his forearms on either side of me.
“Damn it,” Kendry pants, glaring in the general direction Lucas fled. Then, he scowls at the forming crowd, who start backing off as he pushes himself up onto his hands. “You good, Hale?”
“Yeah,” I wheeze, then pat his shoulder. “Be a lot better when you get off me.”
“Shit, sorry.” He pushes himself onto his knees and rolls onto his back with a pained shout.
I sit up fast at the sound. “You hurt?”
He swears again and pushes himself up into a semi-sitting position. He says, “I’m fine,” but he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth that says otherwise. He backs himself up against the nearest lamppost, holding his coat closed with both hands. “It’s just a scratch.”
I crawl over and kneel in front of him. “Let—” I reach for the opening of his coat, but he swats my hands away. “Kendry, let me look.”
With a pained huff, he relents. I move his hands off to the side and see a large gash in his olive green dress shirt, blood steadily seeping through it. I look up at the nearest bystander, a middle-aged woman with both hands covering her mouth and keys in her hand.
“You,” I point at her and start unwrapping my scarf, “call an ambulance.” She gapes at me, so I snap at her, “Now!”
Kendry protests, “I don’t need a—”
“Shut the hell up.” I pull my scarf over my head and press it onto his bleeding stomach. He glares at me between grunts of pain. “Glare at me all you want. At least you’re twenty dollars richer.”
“Keep your money, Hale,” he groans, putting his left hand over both of mine to apply more pressure. “You’ll need it for a new scarf.”
“This old thing?” I slip one hand out and place it over his, pressing a little harder. “I have plenty more in my coat closet.”
A total lie. I’m living out of the trunk of my car and a suitcase.
“You’re telling me you have a coat closet full of scarves, and not a single coat? In Missouri, in February?”
“See,” I begin, turning around at the sound of approaching sirens. They’re fast around here. I look back at him. “These are the kinds of questions—”
I stop when his eyes trail down, and his brows furrow.
“What?” I ask, following his gaze.
His blood is smeared on my shirt, but that’s not what he’s looking at. He lifts his right hand up toward my neck, lightly brushing his finger against my collar.
The scar.
I jerk like his featherlight touch scalded me. His eyes don’t leave mine as I zip my jacket all the way up to my neck—
My hair in his fist, he yanks my head back—
—his knife at my throat—I cry out—
The sirens are next to us now, red and blue lights flickering over Kendry’s somber face.
“Conrad, my man, what the hell happened to you?” The first EMT tosses his bag down and kneels, clapping him on the shoulder. Kendry grimaces. “You’re lucky we were just around the corner.”
“It’s just a cut, Emmett.” He jerks his head toward me. “My new partner here overreacted.”
“How ‘bout you let me be the judge of that, aight?” Emmett reaches for the scarf on Kendry’s stomach, then asks over his shoulder. “You the new partner?”
“Yeah, Evelyn.”
“You made the right call.” Emmett glances back, looking me up and down with a squint. “Don’t you have a coat?”
I cross my arms to ward off an ill-timed chill. “I’m getting around to it.”
Emmett scoffs, “I sure hope so,” then instructs Kendry to unbutton his shirt or he’ll cut it open. Dealer’s choice.
The second EMT trots over with a bag of his own, and Kendry regales them with the events leading up to his bleeding on the sidewalk. He conveniently leaves out the part where I saved his life, but I let him. Some things are better left unsaid.
Like how I got the scar.
I send up a silent prayer to whichever god is listening. Please, don’t let that be the one question he asks.
“Hate to break it to ya, man,” Emmett finally says as he waves his partner toward the ambulance. “You’re gonna need stitches, probably a lot of ‘em. And Celeste is on tonight.”
Kendry groans, his head falling back and smacking the lamppost with a dull thud. Something tells me it doesn’t hurt as much as the stitches will. As Emmett jumps up to help his partner pull out the stretcher, I walk over and hold out my hand. Kendry stares at it like a kid being offered a spoonful of peas at the dinner table.
“Come on,” I wiggle my fingers. “Promise I won’t bite.”
He regards my hand one more time before sighing and taking it. I pull his arm across my shoulders and wrap mine around his middle.
“On three—”
He doesn’t wait for three. He gets his feet under him, shifting his weight and practically falling onto me. My knees buckle, but my hand flies up to his chest to steady him and keep us both from falling over. He teeters forward, blinking slowly like he’s struggling to focus, much woozier than he expected. His bloodstained hand seizes my wrist, his other gripping my shoulder tight.
“Easy, raider.”
Our gazes collide, noses millimeters from grazing each other. Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed with him—the proximity of our lips, the warmth of his body. The oceanic depths of his blue eyes, staring at me softly. His heart beats strong and steady beneath the palm of my hand, but for a moment, I swear I feel it skip. Butterflies flutter their way up my throat, but I gulp them back down into my stomach.
“You good?” I whisper, hyper fixating on his eyes to keep them from glancing at his lips. He squeezes his eyes shut before blinking me back into focus.
“Easy there, buddy,” Emmett rushes up and grips Kendry’s right arm by the bicep. “Don’t flatten your new partner. No one else wants to put up with your ass.” Kendry lets go of my wrist to wave him off as the other EMT positions the stretcher in front of us. As Kendry gets on, Emmett asks me, “You riding with?”
I start nodding, but Kendry immediately shakes his head in protest, groaning, “No.”
“And here I thought we were making such good progress.” Emmett just chuckles as I turn to my partner, who’s digging through his coat pockets. “Kendry—”
“Follow in my car.” He pulls out his keys, closes his eyes, and lies back. He tosses them haphazardly in my general direction, and I catch them midair.
“Fair enough, I guess,” I relent, shoving them in my pocket as they start wheeling him towards the ambulance.
“No high speed car chases, please,” he calls, eyes still closed. “I want it back in one piece.”
I chuckle and shout back, “I’ll do my best,” as they lift him up, roll him in, and shut the doors.
Immediately, the woman who dialed 911 rushes up to me in a panic. “I swear, I didn’t see him, he just ran—”
“I know, it’s okay.”
“But he was bleeding. I didn’t even think I—”
“Ma’am, calm down,” I order, almost reaching for her before I remember there’s literal blood on my hands and think better of it. “He was already cut when he stepped into the road. He’s going to be fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Completely positive.” I point her toward her car, a sedan parked about twenty feet ahead. “You just get home safe and try to have a good rest of your night, okay?”
She visibly deflates with relief and rushes back to her car with a breathless thank you as the ambulance pulls away from the curb. Lights flashing, sirens off. I look around at the thinning crowd, thankful that they’re all going about their business without any fuss.
My eyes catch my discarded scarf in a puddle on the sidewalk, an ominous mess of white and blue swirls, now blotched with deep crimson. I kneel down, pick it up, and pull out my phone to call the captain.
“This is William Jameson,” his gravelly voice greets me on the third ring.
“Hey, Captain.” I spin around on the spot, trying to get my bearings. “It’s Evelyn. We have a... situation.”
He pauses. “What kind of situation?”
Add The Detectives of Defiance book one,
DEVIANT VANDALS
to your TBR today.
Coming 5.22.26
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