<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #80FF80">Carlos Delgado</span></span></span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i1343.photobucket.com/albums/o793/Galvin_Fugazi/75418b36-82bd-4b2f-bdff-d44eb7e2deaf_zpsb78abdde.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><br/><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">He let her rant, kick his seat and spit curses at him. It didn't matter to him, but when she mentioned that incident, his eyes searched her in the rear view mirror.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">"Lea, shut up. Is that all still about that guy you nicked? You went all the way down to this hellhole you work in, because you can't deal with the fact, that you had to shorten the life of a kid who asked for it? Lea, everybody told you that you did the right thing, nobody accused you of anything, even the internals refused to look into it. It was never your fault, those guys chose that way of living. What would have been worse? You not shooting him and him shooting me? Would it make you feel any better to know that you could have saved me, but you didn't? Our lives are full of out-of-the-moment decisions. Not all go well...."</span><br/><br/>He stopped the car at the curb and turned to her. He had pushed her out of his memories when she had been accused of drug abuse. And after the last talk he had tried with her, when he had asked her why and she had told him, that it was her life not his. It had hurt after all those years, after even being partners for some time on the job. After her shooting that guy down, who had pulled a gun in his back, when he had searched the car for drugs. He had liked her, had tried to help her and she had pushed him away. It didn't sit well with his latino soul. Machismo was strong in him.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">"I had not thought of you, for all these months, Lea. There had been times when I couldn't imagine not to think of you at all. You know that I liked you, that I had hoped for more. But you pushed me out of your life, when I tried to help and it had hurt. I had tried to kill those memories of you. And I guess I did pretty well, I had even problems to remember your name, when I saw you in the club. But I remembered the night when we had been out with the squad and you had jumped on the stage and wrapped yourself around the pole in your blue uniform, hanging there head-down and unbuttoning your blouse. I had been jealous on the other guys...they shouldn't see your skin, I wanted it for myself. I remembered your movements on the pole and I recognised them. But I didn't recognise you. And that's the real pity, that you aren't the same person anymore. I can't stand it seeing you like that, all coked up, self-conscious and full of fear. It calls the darker side of me. I marvel on fear, always had."</span><br/><br/>He turned back and moved the car back into the traffic. He didn't see the van mimicking his movement 200 yards behind. The van that had followed them from the club. <br/><span style="color: #FF8000"><br/>"Ok, give me your address. No station. But I have an eye on you. I have no problems with some kids getting gunned down, but I have a problem with my former partner getting killed. Even if she is only some coked-up stripper now."</span></div>