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That scream of panic also caught the attention of the other two dancers.
Everyone froze, motionless.
Nick arched twice between the dancer's breasts, but all he could see was her panicked face. Following her gaze, he turned his head toward the entrance.
Instinctively, he wiped the white powder decorating his nose, and when he saw several people with guns pointed at his face, he felt a tingling across his scalp.
Unconsciously, he shoved the woman in front of him hard, jumped quickly off the table, and ran toward the balcony.
The Latina woman was pushed backward, desperately trying to grab onto empty air.
Ethan reacted with incredible speed. He slid forward on his knees and stretched out his arms.
Thud!
Catching her by the chest and saving her from falling to the floor, for a few seconds he only squeezed his hand, feeling her round breasts fill his palm. But he quickly remembered his mission, so he let her go and began running after the suspect.
Ruzek shot him an envious look and then ran after the others.
—Stop right there, Chicago Police!— Antonio shouted at Nick.
But it was already too late. Nick jumped straight over the glass railing of the hotel balcony.
He lost his balance and nearly fell.
The leather leash attached to his collar spun quickly with his movements, tangling at random around the railing handle.
After a few hard jerks, he desperately reached out and barely managed to grab the edge.
—Help!— Nick shouted furiously. —You damn cops, save me!—
Antonio had been a little worried when he saw him fall.
But seeing him suspended in the air, trapped by the leather leash tangled around the railing, Ruzek couldn't hold back and burst out laughing.
—Why don't you keep running now, Nick?—
—Pull me up, fast!— Nick shouted, his ass in the air and his legs kicking desperately.
The scene was so ridiculous that Ruzek had to brace one hand on the railing to keep from laughing harder.
—Can't you see it? I'm about to fall!—
—Come on, I thought you were having a great time.—
Ruzek leaned over the railing, looked down, and smiled shamelessly.
—I have to admit, Nick… of all the suspects I've chased, you're the first one who ended up arrested by his own fetishes.—
Nick let out a growl through his teeth.
—Shut up and pull me up, asshole!—
—Yeah, yeah, calm down,— Ruzek replied, still smiling. —Don't go breaking yourself before we can ask you a few questions.—
Inside the room, Erin and Ethan were sending everyone at the party away. Those people weren't their target. Taking them back would only be a waste of time.
—Everyone can leave,— Ethan said, gesturing with his hand for them to go.
The last dancer gave Ethan a flirtatious wave.
—What's wrong? Forgot to ask for her number?— Erin said in a dry tone, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. —Or take a picture. It lasts longer.—
Ethan blinked, surprised for barely a second before smiling.
—What are you talking about?—
—Don't play dumb,— she said, crossing her arms. —If you want, I'll go ask her for it. She clearly made quite an impression on you.—
Ruzek, who was nearby, raised his eyebrows when he noticed Erin's tone, but he had the good instinct not to get involved.
Ethan tilted his head, with that calm air that only managed to irritate her more.
—Lind, it was just a reflex.—
—A reflex?—
—We entered a place with a suspect fleeing. I just acted on instinct. My brain was processing the scene.—
Erin let out a low "tch," not convinced at all.
—Sure.—
Ethan placed a hand over his chest, pretending to be offended.
—What are you thinking? I'm not that kind of person.—
—Uh-huh.—
—I'm a professional.—
—Yes. Very professional. I could almost see your professionalism squeezing that girl's chest.—
Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but the smile that escaped him betrayed him.
Erin gave him a disdainful look and leaned against the nearby wall, still with her arms crossed. She wasn't really angry, but she wasn't going to pass up the chance to make him sweat a little.
—Just so we're clear,— she added, —the next time your "reflex" lasts more than three seconds, it'll be the last thing they touch. Are we clear?—
Ethan let out a low laugh.
—Crystal clear.—
Ethan moved his feet immediately, turning toward the exit.
—We'll continue my disciplinary hearing later.—
Erin followed him, though there was still the smallest smile at the corner of her lips.
—Don't worry, we will.—
—Aren't you coming out to look?—
—Look at a naked man hanging outside the hotel?—
Erin frowned.
—Sorry, I have no interest in that.—
Ethan stepped out onto the balcony with a smile while Nick continued begging for mercy.
—Pull me up, please.—
—Should we pull him up?— Ruzek asked cheerfully, watching the unusual spectacle.
—No.—
Antonio's lips curved into a smile.
—Leave him hanging there a little longer.—
The events of the morning had put him in a bad mood. Jay had been suspended, while this murder suspect, about to stand trial, had been partying. To him, it was undoubtedly unfair, and the fair thing was to make him suffer.
—I have an idea. Since our friend likes fun so much, why don't we help him a little?—
Seeing the round trampoline beside the pool on the ground floor, Olinsky scratched his beard.
Following his gaze, Ethan smiled and patted Ruzek on the shoulder. The two of them, along with Olinsky, went down to the back of the hotel.
Nick kept hanging and swaying up there, like a piece of cured meat waiting to air-dry.
Ethan adjusted his clothes, genuinely feeling cold on his behalf.
—We're ready!—
At Olinsky's shout, the three of them carried the trampoline together and placed it right beneath Nick.
The view from above was truly horrifying. Under pressure from Ethan and Olinsky, Ruzek could only look up reluctantly, constantly indicating the position.
—That's good!—
Once the spot was adjusted, he gave Antonio, who was above, a thumbs-up.
—No, wait… wait!— Nick shouted, clinging to the leash as best he could. —You're supposed to be the good guys. You can't do this! I'm going to sue you!—
Antonio took a folding knife from his pocket and opened it with a sharp motion. Then he looked at Nick, whose face was already red from strain and humiliation.
—Don't worry,— he said with a calm that didn't help at all. —I'm going to save you right now.—
Nick's eyes widened when he saw the blade approach the leather.
—Fuck you!—
The tip of the knife pressed against the leash.
—You're crazy! You can't cut that!—
Antonio looked up at him.
—Relax, Nick. I'm just going to cut the leash.—
—Relax? I'm hanging from the third floor, you idiot!—
Antonio glanced down toward the patio, as if calculating something far too calmly.
—You've got a trampoline below.—
Nick stopped kicking for barely a second.
The leash snapped.
—Ah!—
Ethan had heard the phrase about a palm falling from the sky many times, but he had never thought he would one day witness its most absurd version.
Nick flailed his arms and legs in the air, letting out a high-pitched scream that made even Ruzek raise his head. For one second, it looked like he was going to crash into the ground.
But he didn't.
His body landed straight on the patio trampoline.
—Pff!—
The impact made the frame creak. The canvas sank beneath his weight, stretched for an instant… and then tore with a sharp sound.
Nick disappeared through the center, leaving a huge hole in the trampoline and an awkward silence throughout the house.
Ruzek leaned over the railing, blinked a couple of times, and then burst out laughing.
—Well… technically, we saved him.—
Nick straightened his back, flushed red, and was left completely breathless.
—Shit… you're a bunch of assholes,— Nick groaned from the patio, still half stuck in the hole in the trampoline.
Ethan, who had gone down with the others, moved his foot back slightly when he saw him writhing. As ridiculous as the scene was, the guy really did seem to be in pain.
Nick took a deep breath, recovered just enough air, and raised both middle fingers toward the detectives still leaning over the railing above.
—Go fuck yourselves!—
Ruzek burst out laughing from the railing.
Olinsky looked at the torn trampoline, then at Nick, and shrugged with a dry smile.
—You're lucky it held.—
Although the fall had looked dramatic, the trampoline had absorbed most of the impact. Nick didn't seem to have any serious injuries.
Up above, Antonio exhaled slowly and wiped a drop of cold sweat from his temple. For a second, he kept looking down, as if confirming that Nick was still in one piece.
Then he closed the knife, slipped it back into his pocket, and returned to the room with his usual seriousness.
A short while later, from the balcony, several pieces of clothing floated down into the patio.
A shirt.
A pair of pants.
And finally, a silk robe that landed right on Nick's head.
Ruzek leaned out through the door again, with a smile impossible to hide.
—Get dressed, Nick. Nobody wants to see your damn white ass.—
From the ground, Nick barely lifted his head, still aching and with his pride more bruised than his body.
—Fuck you!—
A short while later, Nick was escorted out with his hands cuffed behind his back. He was still limping a little, more from wounded pride than any real injury. When they put him in the back of the patrol car, Nick slammed his shoulder against the glass.
—This isn't over!—
Ruzek calmly shut the door and gave the roof of the vehicle two pats.
The ride back to the precinct was quieter than expected. Nick muttered insults every few minutes, but no one answered him. When they arrived at the 21st District, Platt looked up from her desk just as she saw them enter.
First, she saw Nick. Then his wrinkled clothes. Then the satisfied expression on Ethan's face.
—I don't want to know,— she said immediately.
—Good decision, Sergeant,— Olinsky replied.
Ruzek gently pushed him toward the stairs. As soon as they reached Intelligence's interrogation room, the atmosphere changed.
Antonio opened the door, and Ethan pushed Nick inside.
Nick sat down reluctantly, still breathing heavily.
—I want a lawyer. I'm going to sue you! I'm going to sue this damn city and get all of you fired!—
…
—Shut your mouth.—
Antonio cut him off quickly. He had no time to waste on him.
—I'm going to sue you,— Nick muttered, rolling his shoulders with a grimace. —All of you. You, him, the big guy outside… especially the idiot who dropped me.—
Antonio, leaning near the wall with his arms crossed, barely raised an eyebrow.
—You jumped out the window, Nick.—
—Because you came in like animals!—
Ethan didn't respond. He remained standing on the other side of the table, a folder in his hand, watching him without hurry. Nick was making too much noise.
Ethan placed the folder on the table.
The soft thud of cardboard against metal was enough to make Nick shut his mouth.
—Nicholas Djorjovic,— Ethan said, pronouncing the full name. —Alias DJ Nick… you're in a lot of trouble, my friend.—
Nick flashed a crooked smile.
—I never like how it sounds when you people say it.—
—Then let's talk about something you should like even less.—
Ethan opened the folder and slid a photograph toward him. He didn't push it too far. Just enough for Nick to see it.
—Six months ago, a man was killed outside a club in River North. You were there. Two witnesses placed you at the scene. One recanted after receiving threats. The other disappeared two nights ago.—
Nick looked at the photograph for barely a second, then looked away.
—I don't know what you're talking about.—
—Of course you do, Nick,— Ethan said, not taking his eyes off him. —Your trial is only a couple of days away. The key witness disappears and then turns up dead inside a trunk. You have to admit that sounds pretty convenient for you, don't you think?—
—What?—
The word came out too quickly.
At first, Nick seemed confused. He frowned, blinked once, and looked from Ethan to Antonio, as if he needed to confirm he had heard correctly.
But in the next second, something changed in his face.
—Are you saying Doctor Elliott is dead?—
The question came out with an anxiety Nick couldn't quite hide.