Rachel leaned in close.
Felix nearly choked when Mark appeared, holding his gear, car keys, and a release slip. "Go home already. People are watching."
Felix gave the nearby officers a sheepish smile. "Sorry, sorry. Couldn't help it."
Mark handed him the things. "Take these. You're cleared. And here—wipes. Clean yourself up."
"That fast? I thought they'd dig deeper."
"There are too many people being held. The department's under pressure. Most of them have nothing to do with the shooting. Keeping them here is pointless. If someone pops on background, we log it and go knock later."
"And if they run?"
"Then we issue warrants." Mark cut him off. "And if they can't be caught, then they can't. You a rookie or something?"
Quick on the trigger, this one. Felix had no answer, just holstered his sidearm and pulled Rachel away.
After a few steps he turned back. "Stay safe, Mark."
Mark tapped his vest with a smirk.
Felix thought about flashing him a hand sign, but with so many eyes around, he let it go. Better to leave him his pride.
They drove out along the marked route, showing the pass at the checkpoint before finally breaking free of the cordon.
Once on the freeway, Felix saw Rachel's face relax, muscles unclenching at last. She was only twenty—holding it together was one thing, but fear had been eating her the whole time.
Now he understood her sudden kiss back there. Rachel thought he'd opened fire to protect her.
In her mind, she'd dragged Felix out to hear music. The night had turned into a gun battle. They hadn't escaped. Cornered by gangbangers with ugly intent, she'd frozen. Felix had stepped up, drawn his weapon, and cleared the way out.
He'd told her not to tell the truth to the cops. Rachel had understood. If she admitted Felix shot to protect her, his career was finished. If those gangsters died, he'd face prison and debts he could never pay.
To her, that meant only one thing: Felix loved her enough to risk everything.
"Felix," she whispered suddenly, "why are you so good to me?"
He guessed where her head had gone, but didn't expect her to drift that far. He shrugged it off. "You're my girlfriend. That's what I'm supposed to do."
"You're too good. We have to stay together, always."
"Sure. Always. Whatever makes you happy."
"My allowance's too little. From now on I'll give you all the money my dad sends."
"That's… not necessary."
Felix had his flaws, but even he had a line. He could play along for a little cash, but taking everything from her? No.
"I knew it," she said softly. "You love me for me. Not for money."
Felix was starting to wonder how she'd even gotten into UCLA. They hadn't been together long, and she was already talking about forever.
"How much money are we talking?"
"Two million."
"…What?"
"Two Million Dollars."
Felix turned his head, stunned. "What kind of family do you come from? You've got that much? Forget it—send it to my account."
Rachel burst out laughing. "Watch the road!"
He jerked the wheel straight, then glanced at her again. She'd shut her eyes, pretending to be asleep. No more mention of it.
Smart one, after all.
The highway was empty. News of the shooting must have spread; the usual crowds—Mexican kids, Black drifters—were nowhere to be seen.
Felix drove fast, straight back to the apartment. By the time they arrived, it was already past one in the morning.
"We're home. Out you go."
Silence. He turned. Rachel was asleep.
So much for seizing the moment.
He carried her inside, her arms looped around his neck even in sleep. Maybe she was faking. Either way, she was light—easy enough to lift.
He set her down on the bed, washed up, came back to find her sprawled out in a starfish shape. No pretending this time. She was gone.
Sleep. That was all he could do.
Dawn pulled back the night's veil. Morning light spilled across the room.
Rachel came out of the bathroom, splashed awake, and slapped him hard. "You woke me this early just for that?"
"Not just that," Felix murmured, dragging her down into the sheets. He rolled over, pinning her, kissing her hard.
She swatted his back a few times before locking her arms around his neck, answering him with equal heat. Their breathing grew heavier.
Then—knocks, sharp and loud.
"Someone's at the door."
"Forget them."
The pounding grew frantic.
"Open up, Felix! Hurry!"
Cursing, Felix pulled on his pants and stormed to the door. Mark stood there, dark circles under his eyes.
"What the hell, Mark? People sleep, you know."
"Sleep? I haven't slept all night." He jabbed a finger at his own face. The black rings stood out sharp against his pale skin.
"You didn't go home? Still patrolling?"
Working all night and straight into the morning. A scab, through and through.