M McDonald - March Into Hell

“Sure.”

He heard her footsteps head towards the kitchen and the water turned on. Mark ran a hand through his hair and tried to push the image of Jessie lying beneath him out of his mind. Getting his body back under control should have been easy after she splashed the victim label all over him like a pail of ice water, but his mind and body had opposite ideas.

“You okay?”

Mark groaned. Why couldn’t she just leave him be? “I’m fine.” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded tight. He took a few more deep breaths, then strode to the kitchen and opened the fridge, grabbing a beer. He dared her to say anything as he shot her a look.

“Look, Mark, I didn’t mean that I think of you as just a victim. You know I think you’re more than that.” She stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the living area.

He slugged back several gulps of the beer and swiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Raising an eyebrow, he said, “Oh no? Well, what exactly do you think of me, Jessie?” Mark pushed past her and tried to ignore the sizzle he felt when his arm brushed against hers.

He didn’t expect a reply and her silence didn’t surprise him. He stood behind the couch, tipped the bottle and stared blankly at the ballgame. He felt shame at how far he had carried the kiss. This was Jessie. She'd made her feelings about him known when she'd left him.

Even without looking, he sensed her presence behind him, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn around. He dreaded seeing her opinion of him scrawled all over her face. Instead, he wandered to the window.

Dusk had deepened, casting the street below in dark purple shadows. The light of a couple dozen candles bobbed and weaved as a small crowd mingled on the walk. Could they see him up in the window? The loft was dim, but the television cast a glow. Just in case, Mark raised his beer in a mocking toast. “Bottoms up!” The brew was cold and he savored the taste.

“Feel better?”

“No.” Mark didn’t look at her.

She sighed. “Look, I’m working. What if something happened while we were…you know?”

Mark tried to keep his anger flowing, but she had a point.

“If Kern comes, and I can’t get to my gun or cell phone, what good am I up here?”

Mark glanced at her. Her eyes scanned the crowd below and he knew she wasn’t seeing them as religious zealots, but as possible Kern followers. He regarded them as a nuisance, she viewed them as impending criminals. “My timing stinks.”

Jessie laughed. "Correction. Our timing stinks. Someday maybe we'll have a chance to discuss things when there's not some major catastrophe or crisis looming on the horizon."

Mark moved away from the window. He didn’t want to wait for someday. One thing he had learned from all he endured, is that someday might never come.

Mark and Jessie settled in for the evening. Mark ordered Chinese food and they talked about their childhoods. She laughed at his all-American upbringing in a small town. He tried to understand her city savvy, knowing that even as long as he'd lived in Chicago, he didn't have the same attitude as born city-dwellers. Mostly, he grinned so much, the curve of his mouth felt permanent. Now that the sexual tension was acknowledged, he could relax in her presence for the first time in months.

“Your turn.” Jessie sat on the chair, her legs drawn up and crossed. A big bowl of popcorn rested in her lap.

Mark shook his head. “Oh no. It was your idea to bring up our most embarrassing moments. You have to go first.”

Jessie tilted her head, gazed at the ceiling and then laughed. “Okay, I got one. I had a fancy dinner to attend at some hoity-toity restaurant. I don’t normally get invited to those kinds of things and I was so excited!” She reached into the bowl and tossed a few kernels in her mouth. “It was snowing and I didn’t want to ruin my new shoes. I had splurged and bought a pair of designer pumps and you know how hard those heels are to walk in.”

Mark had no idea but nodded to encourage her to continue.

“I grabbed my boots, and reached in my closet and snagged the shoes out, thinking about how clever I was to wear the boots in the car and then switch to the heels when I arrived.

“Uh-huh.” He didn't care a whit about the shoes, but the sparkle in her eyes as she told her tale had him hooked. “Smart thinking.”

“Well, it would have been if I hadn’t grabbed two different style pumps, both for the left foot!

Snorting with laughter, Mark leaned over and helped himself to the popcorn. He held it with his hand shelved against his belly. There would probably be a big grease stain from the ton of butter she had doused it with, but he didn’t care. “So what did you do?”

“I did what any lowly cop would do in that situation. I drove around looking for a Cheap Feet shoe store. Unfortunately, the whole town was filthy rich and didn’t have one, so I did the next best thing.” She ate some more popcorn.

“And what would that be?”

“I jammed my right foot into the left shoe. That wasn’t even the hard part.” Her eyes danced. “The hard part came when I realized that the heels were different heights.”

Mark laughed, picturing Jessie hobbling around in the shoes. He continued to snicker as he stretched back on the couch. His shoulder was beginning to ache from being unsupported all day, but he didn’t want to break the spell.

“Okay.”

“Okay…what?” He rubbed the sore joint and hoped he could distract her from what he knew she wanted.

She tossed a few kernels of popcorn at him. “You gotta tell your most embarrassing moment.”

Mark scratched his head. “I’m not sure I can narrow it down to just one.” He slanted a look at her. “Well, actually, I think my most embarrassing moment occurred just a few hours ago.”

Jessie blushed. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, someone knocked on the door. She jumped up, popcorn flying as the bowl toppled to the floor.

Mark swung around to a sitting position, cursing his lack of sling as his arm felt like a heavy dead weight. If someone burst in, he'd be at an even greater disadvantage with his arm unsupported.

Jessie had her gun in hand as she crossed to the door. "Who is it?"

"Chicago P. D, ma'am."

She cracked the door and then holstered her weapon. She stepped halfway into the hall and said something to the cop. A minute later, she came back in and shut the door.

Disappointment washed over Mark. He could see by her look that she was leaving. There was no reason for her stay with the patrol outside his building all night.

As though reading his mind, she turned to face him. "Guess I can get home now."

At least she sounded a little disappointed too. He nodded.

Jim pushed the off button of his cell phone, feeling the pressure of Mark's scrutiny from the other side of the breakfast bar. He wished he had better news to tell him, but at least they'd located Kern's group. "That was Jessica. There's good news and bad news. Good news is, they found where the cult is staying."

Mark's eyes widened. "Where are they?"

"An apartment building on the southwest side. 5000 block of West Jackson. Not a nice neighborhood, apparently."

"So, they can arrest them and this nightmare will be over?" The hope in his voice was palpable.

Jim sighed. "I wish they could, but by your own admission, you couldn't see the faces of anyone but Judy Medea and Adrian Kern. Neither were on the premises when CPD investigated. All they were able to do was some questioning as to their whereabouts."

"You're kidding." Mark wandered out of the kitchen and over to the sofa. As if his legs had turned to water, he sank onto it.