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Her partner.
I shoot Dad a panicked look because I have no idea. My only concern was Sloane. Dad approaches the bed and gently pats Sloane’s foot through the blanket.
“Aisha is fine, Sloane. Dr. Crow said the bullet grazed her arm but didn’t do any significant damage.”
Sloane starts to cry, clearly overjoyed with hearing that her partner is going to be okay. Dad slides a chair over to me and allows us our privacy. I hold on to Sloane’s hand, listening to her cry and hoping like hell I can mend my girl back to health soon.
“I love you, Sloane Thurman.”
She nods and mouths back a similar sentiment.
We’re going to get through this.
We’ll get through anything as long as we’re together.
Sloane
Getting shot hurts.
Like really, really hurts.
Now that I’m back home and don’t have the good stuff being pumped into me whenever a flare of pain happens, I’m noticing the pain a lot more than I did for the first couple of days in the hospital.
Thankfully, I have Dempsey as my nurse. He’s great about feeding me, making sure I’m comfortable, keeping me company, and cheering me up. Plus, he’s easy on the eyes and rarely wears a shirt, which prevents me from getting bored.
Aisha: Girl. These kids think I’m on vacation. They’ve asked me to take them to the park a dozen times this morning. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m already eager to go back to work.
Smirking, I reply to my partner.
Me: Every time I get bored or anxious, I just look at Dempsey’s abs.
Aisha: Pictures or you’re lying…
“Aisha wants a picture of your abs,” I tell Dempsey, who’s in the kitchen.
He saunters into the living room and flexes, flashing me a cheesy grin that makes my heart squeeze. I snap a picture and send it to her.
Aisha: Lucky bitch.
She sends back a picture of one of her toddlers, whose face is smeared with something sticky-looking. The kid is crying in the picture, both eyes and nose running like leaky faucets. Yeah, I don’t envy her a bit.
Me: We won’t be on administrative leave forever. We’ll be back before we know it.
Aisha: To desk work. How long until they’ll let us patrol again? My mother-in-law is hovering. Her living with us isn’t so bad until I’m home all day with her. I wish she’d go hover over the kids so I could just breathe uninterrupted for five seconds.
Why do people ever want to have kids?
Me: You could always run away and come watch Dempsey’s abs with me.
Aisha: Don’t tempt me.
Dempsey has disappeared again. He spent all morning cleaning out my pantry and griping the whole time because everything was stale or expired or inedible. He’s been making a massive grocery list. It’s cute how much he cares about my food situation. Jamie, who was underfed in her younger years, clearly overcompensated for her childhood by making sure her children have access to good food. I, however, was used to eating free food from the diner Mom worked at. When I finally got out on my own, it was more of the same but different restaurants.
Aisha: Heard from Trevor?
The playfulness between us is gone. She knows how worried I am over my nephew, especially now if he’s involved with those bikers. They set a trap for me, planning to take me out. I vaguely remember the Bozo guy yelling at me. What did he say?
“You fucked with the wrong guys, cunt. Prez says you need to be dealt with since you’re causing all sorts of fucking problems in our lives.”
