"Oh ew, that's fucking intense!" Haz says leaning over the dining room table that I'm sitting at, gawking at my laptop to see images of the crime scene I was working on. A water droplet falls on my keyboard and I look up at him frowning at the fact he was dripping all over the house from his session in the pool with Tom.
"Where's your towel? You're leaving a trail of water everywhere dude," I sighed, causing him to pull a 'oh shit' face at me and scurry off down the hall.
"I just needed to pee!" He called out before I heard the bathroom door close. As much as I was annoyed there'd be little pools of water across the floorboards, it's his house and he can do whatever he wants. I do respect the fact he didn't just get out of the pool and take a piss in the garden; what I assumed most guys would have done. Or stayed in the pool.
Tom has been clean for sixteen days now and although I have returned to work, I asked if I could work from home to stay near him. His withdrawal symptoms have definitely subsided and since being clean he's agreed to see a psychiatrist to deal with his trauma.
Initially when I suggested the idea, he said 'talking about my feelings to a hippy isn't going to help shit', which he immediately took back given I started my career as a psychologist who talked to inmates and genuinely improved their mental health. He then asked if I could be his 'shrink' and I declined, reminding him that although I was exceptionally good at my job, I was a complete poser. I never got a degree remember?
Haz invited Tom over to his house this afternoon on their way home from boxing. The psychiatrist agreed with Tom that he should push his compulsive need for addiction into a healthier outlet; exercise. In a way, boxing was good for Tom, it gave him a routine and it gave him joy. Although, it was extremely violent and the competitions were highly illegal. Better than heroin though.
Haz tiptoed back past me when he heard my phone ringing, which made me laugh before I answered it. I don't know about other people, but I have a tendency to walk around aimlessly whenever I'm on the phone with someone - so, I walked outside to take a break from sitting at his dining room table.
Haz asked me to come and pick Tom up but I thought I would bring my laptop over to get some work done whilst they swam. They're like children, they never stop playing around when they say they would.
My commanding officer was on the phone with me as I walked further away from the pool; they were so loud. Tom was back flipping into the pool and Haz was holding up his fingers as he scored him out of ten - 9. Then they swapped positions in the pool.
What did I say? They're fucking children.
Y/N, I'm sorry to call after hours but we um, we had a bit of an issue at the station today.
Oh, is there anything I can do to help?
Well actually, we want you to stay home for a little while longer to continue working. Over the three weeks you've been working at home, the couriers and mailmen have left your mail at your desk in the forensics lab, the normal process. Although, one of our dogs started barking at a package today.
Right, a package addressed to me?
Correct. And although opening someone's mail is a felony in itself, we had to open it. Inside, we found human remains... In particular a mans finger. We haven't found prints or evidence but we do think it's safer for you to be at home.
Okay, well thankyou for telling me. Just uh, let me know if I can assist with questioning.
Well fuck. Another finger. And they know where I live and where I work. This isn't a message being sent to the new Godfather, this is a message to me. Of course I couldn't tell my commanding officer about the first finger, that would create more of an investigation than they're probably creating already. I don't want to draw attention to the fact I live with one of the worlds most dangerous criminals.
"You okay Darling?" Tom called out, getting splashed in the face by the backsplash of Harrison's backflip.
"It's uh, another severed finger... At the station this time... And with my fucking name on it," I said walking over to the pool and sitting by the edge.
"Dude! What's my score?" Haz said after coming up to the surface, excitedly flicking his wet hair out of his face and staring at Tom.
"Oh uh, eight out of ten. But dude, someone's sending us a message with random cut off fingers. First at our house like a week ago, now at Y/N's work.... You notice anything weird?" Tom asked.
"Oh yeah! I forgot to say! I got a package saying 'The Godfather' the other day with a finger in it," Haz laughed.
"And you didn't tell me this?! Why?" Tom said throwing his hands up.
"I just assumed it was someone fucking around with me that you became the godfather and not me, and then sent me some fake finger with the nail painted to be like, ha you're a pussy for getting married," Haz laughed.
"Well it definitely wasn't fake... Fuck, dude tell me when shit like this happens next time yeah?" Tom scoffed.
"So three fingers... Commander Johnson said the stations finger was a man... But Haz, you said this had a painted nail, a girls finger?" I asked concerned.
"Yeah it was way too thin and bony to be a dudes, I guess... Unless he's got tiny feminine hands. I threw it out through, I thought it was fake and put it in straight in the bin sorry," he laughed.
"And out first one I think was a woman's finger but not nail polish...Different victims and addressed to Tom, myself and the house... What the fuck is going on?" I sighed, before getting a text message from Tom's brother Harry. Weird.
HARRY
Yo, Tom isn't replying is he all good?
Someone delivered a package for
him today. Want me to bring
it around to you guys? :)
Y/N
COME TO HAZ'S PLACE
BUT DONT OPEN IT
YOU ARE READING
𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬
Fanfiction**𝘚𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘔𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴** After Tom rises to power within the mafia world, his list of enemies grows exponentially. Of course, behind every strong man is an even stronger woman. Can Y/N survive being his counterpa...
