Page 6 of No Take Backs
There were very few times in my life that I lost control of my anger. It is honestly one of the reasons I’ve stayed a cop for as long as I have. But her, sitting there, letting my friend take the fall for her drugs, makes me want to throw it all away and do something stupid.
“Stay with your daughter. You can explain later,” Blaine growls under his breath.
I watch as he pulls his key ring out of his pocket and tosses it to an attractive woman staring at him with blue eyes. Her blond hair sticks out, not because of the color but because she has shaved sides.
“Do me a favor and hold down the fort until I can get my dad here.”
The woman, one of the servers whose name I can’t remember, grabs the keys out of the air. “You got it.”
While we start to walk toward the door, I make sure that I have the backpack closed and sealed, taken into evidence for this massive clusterfuck. I can feel the tremors of the migraine from earlier taking root and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’ll be throwing back a few shots just to get it under control when I get home.
“I can’t do it now, since technically you’re in my custody.” I hold the door open with the hand holding the backpack for him to walk out in front of me, keeping the other hand on my gun just in case shit turns south and the woman comes charging after her drugs. “But if this stunt ends up killing our plans this week, the minute I hang up my gun, I’m kicking your fuckin’ ass, Blaine.”
He snorts. “I’ll figure it out.”
“I hope so,” I tell him when I hold the back door of my cruiser open for him. “Because it’s Saturday. You’re not gonna be able to make bail until Monday.”
“I know.”
“I hope she’s worth it, man. ’Cause you might have just lost everything.”
The dark expression that crosses his face tells me Blaine knows exactly what he is doing and is well aware of the consequences.
Logging the evidence and booking my friend into the county jail is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my entire life. After handing off the report to the officer who’ll be taking over my territory, the weight I’ve carried with me since I turned twenty-one starts to lift.
“I’m gonna miss you, man,” Tom Bunker says as I start the paperwork to turn back in my weapon and badge later that night. “I don’t get why you won’t stay on as a reserve officer. Who leaves this perfection?” He waves a hand around the building we’ve worked in together for a decade. “And decides to be a hose jumper?”
I snort, rolling my eyes at the same argument he’s given me for the last six months while we looked for my replacement. “I’ve been a firefighter longer than I’ve been a cop, Bunk. I just get to do it full-time now. You know, at home. Where I don’t have to drive an hour just to respond to a call in the middle of the night.”
He shrugs, the same blue uniform that I’m wearing rising and falling with his actions, and sighs. “Doesn’t mean I want you to go.”
“You’ll just have to come over for dinner or drinks.”
“Or to use that hot tub you bought last summer,” he adds with a laugh. “Count me in for the fun.”
Waving him off, I walk out of the station, heading back to Rockabilly’s. Maybe I can find something that will exonerate Blaine. Like the woman he’s been so hell-bent on protecting.
If not, I’ll end up alone in my shower, stroking my dick to a pair of gray eyes I’ll never be able to forget.
3
NIA
Ella’s eyes bore into me like twin lasers, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and concern, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ve finally crossed some invisible line into madness. It’s not every day that you witness a scene straight out of a crime drama, and the more I replay it in my mind, the more surreal it feels.
“I’m telling you,” I insist, my voice climbing in pitch, fueled by the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. “The backpack just toppled over, drugs spilled out like something from a bad movie, and then—get this—the hot cop arrested his friend! Even though it was painfully obvious the bag wasn’t his. I swear, Ella, it was like watching a train wreck in slow motion when there’s nothing you can do but eat some popcorn and see the destruction left in its wake.”
Ella doesn’t say a word, just continues to stare at me, her eyebrows creeping higher with each passing second, until the silence becomes almost unbearable. I can feel the weight of her skepticism pressing down on me, making me fidget in place. The parking lot around us feels strangely empty, the distant hum of traffic a dull backdrop to our increasingly tense conversation.
“I’m serious, Ella.” I lean in closer, my eyes locked on hers, hoping to convey the sheer insanity of what I’ve just witnessed. “Stop looking at me like I’m crazy. I’m not crazy. I’m telling you, something seriously wonky just happened in there.” My words tumble out in a rush, a frantic attempt to make her understand that this isn’t some figment of my overactive imagination.
We’re just about ready to leave the roller rink, the air still thick with the scent of pizza and the remnants of childhood chaos, when Lyla—my darling, sometimes infuriating, little niece—decides she has to use the bathroom. Of course, this isn’t just any quick bathroom break. No, with Lyla, everything has to be a production, a full-blown routine that involves everything from washing her hands meticulously to checking her reflection in the mirror like she’s preparing for a photo shoot.
Which is absolutely ridiculous since she’s freaking nine, not nineteen.
So here we are, standing outside the roller rink in the dimming light of early evening, waiting for what feels like an eternity. The neon sign flickers above us, casting a garish pink glow over the parking lot, and I can’t help but think about how ridiculous this day has been. From the bizarre scene with the cop to now being held hostage by a nine-year-old’s bathroom habits, it’s all just a little too much.
“I’m just saying, it’s suspicious,” I mutter, more to myself than to Ella, who’s currently leaning against the brick wall of the building, her eyes scanning the parking lot as if she might find some hidden clue out there.