Page 8 of Nightshades
A scoff from the man in the middle has me quirking a brow. “I’m everyone’s type. I’m Zig.” He flashes a naturally flirtatious smirk, showcasing his dimples. “Well, they call me Zig. My full name is Audacto Zayas.” He points to his nametag. “But still, Zig is the only thing I go by.”
“Audacto?” I don’t know why I sound surprised. “¿Hablas español?”
“Sí. Sí.” He nods, fluttering his long lashes that curl. His eyes are feminine in a way. His irises are light green, pairing beautifully with his skin tone. “You like me now, don’t you?”
I snort, coffee going up my nose. “No, no, Zig. I don’t. I don’t fuck where I work. I’m making that clear now.”
Zig’s eyes twinkle more somehow since turning him down.
Sheriff Holland smacks Zig on the back of the head. “That’s what I’m talking about. It’s been a while since we have had a lady in the office. You’ll have to excuse my officers.”
“I didn’t do anything. I’m being respectful.” Waylon sounds bored and unamused. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m sure you’ll be a great asset to the team. I’m Waylon.” He holds out his giant hand for me to shake.
My hand completely disappears in his. “Nice to meet you, Waylon.”
“I’m Jenkins.” The third officer gives an awkward wave. “Glad to have you here. The last few years have been odd in this town.”
I sit on the corner of my desk. “Oh? How?”
“Just weird murders we haven’t been able to figure out. Our last sheriff quit over it,” Zig informs. “It has been a while though so maybe the guy is gone.”
My gaze slides to Jake, and he is looking away as if he knows something that no one else does.
“Sheriff, what do you think?” I blow the steam rising from my cup and take a long swig of my coffee, loving how rich it is.
“Don’t know. I think our killer is gone. We just have to remain vigilant.”
He’s lying. He has answers and doesn’t want to share them. I have always been great at being able to tell when people lie. From the time I was young, I could recognize the ‘tell’ when someone was evading the truth.
The Sheriff’s? He doesn’t like to make eye contact. He is an assertive man. He likes to be in control, and when he isn’t, he is lost, which shows in the way his gaze drifts around the room.
I’ll be keeping an eye on that.
“Well, I’m here now. We can land this son of a bitch together if he is still here.” My phone dings, interrupting my train of thought to see my brother’s name flashing across the screen.
My family is furious at me for leaving the city to come here. They have told me a hundred times that they think I am making a mistake. No one was on my side. They didn’t care that I wanted to be a detectivenow. My brother, mother, and father wanted me to wait for a job to open up in the city.
I couldn’t risk waiting for a maybe. Maybes don’t make dreams come true, and neither does waiting around.
I’m not the waiting type.
I chase after what I want. I don’t wait for opportunities to come to me—Imakethem.
My family can be upset with me all they want, but I had to do what is best for me, not them. I love and miss them, ofcourse. They are my family. At the end of the day, I have to do what brings me happiness and peace. We get one life, and I fully believe we as people need to start living for ourselves instead of others.
Even if it means disappointing family.
“Nice kicks.” Waylon points to my shoes. “What made you wear those instead of high heels?”
I can’t help but raise my brows again as I inhale another gulp of coffee. I have to know where the sheriff got it from because this might be the best I’ve ever had.
Jake slaps Waylon on the chest. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? You don’t ask women that, Waylon.”
“I didn’t mean any harm,” he growls.
“Don’t mind this cute grump.” Zig throws his arm across Waylon’s shoulders. “He means well.”
Waylon shrugs Zig off with a snarl.