The Suspect

Chapter 2

I'm dedicating this chapter to the amazing rosiesabbagh. Her support means the world to me!

I look at my reflection in the mirror: the yellow satin fabric hugging my curves in all the right places; perfectly complementing my olive skin. The thin spaghetti straps reveal my narrow shoulders, and the boat-shaped neckline stops right atop my breasts, showing the perfect amount of cleavage. My gaze moves lower, as I see the dress cut off halfway above my knees; not too long but short enough to display my tall, lean legs.

"I look hot," I say as if I was reassuring myself of something.

"Hell yeah you do," I turn to see Kiara standing at the doorway. My eyes widen at her. She looks gorgeous in her black, sequin dress, shiny red lips, and black stilettos.

"Right back at you, Kie. God, that dress was made for you," I grab my purse and follow her out.

"I don't think I've ever been this excited to go clubbing before. The Jensen Case was surprisingly undemanding," she says referring to this morning's case, "But that mustn't stop us from having fun." she deduces.

"Did you forget we have to go back to work tomorrow? I overheard SSA Miller talking about a homicide that's quite possibly going to be the office's toughest one yet," I pause as I let her process what I just said and then continued, "So if you want to get hungover and be late to the briefing, then sure be my guest," I said with obvious sarcastic enthusiasm.

She rolls her eyes, "Yada yada work this, work that. God, can't you just forget about work for one night?" She questions and I arch my eyebrows at her, "Okay okay, suit yourself, but I'm a woman with needs so let's get out of here and find me a man as soon as possible," she said as I laughed and followed her out the door.

~~

The red and blue hues of the club almost hurt my eyes as we walk in. The unpleasant yet familiar smell of alcohol mixed with sweat shot up my nostrils, overwhelmingly compelling me.

"I'm going to head to the bar," I say and see Kiara already making her way to the dance floor, her hips swaying to the beat of the loud music.

She holds up her hand to her ear and yells, "WHAT?"

"I SAID I'M HEADING TO THE BAR!" I yell back as we both move in opposite directions.

"I'M SORRY, WHAT?"

I sigh and shake my head as I move my hand and point in the direction of the bar. She finally nods in response, and I take a seat at the corner of the bar table.

The bartender walks over to me, "Hi, what can I get started for you?"

I look at the menu, contemplating whether to go for something light or not. "Fuck it," I muttered. "I'll do a double shot of whiskey. On the rocks, please." The bartender nods in response, bringing my drink in seconds.

I tip my head back and finish the drink in two swift gulps. I smack my lips as the spicy liquid burns its way down my throat.

"Bad day at work?"

"Fuck," I jump at the deep voice behind me; and the next thing I know, my hand made contact with a hard, chiseled jaw.

The man steps back as his hand flies to his face. "Well that's one way to greet a person," he chuckles.

"Holy shit, I am so sorry. I..I-" I pause, looking down at my hand, "It's a reflex."

"That's quite the reflex you've got there." He chuckles again and damn, that chuckle.