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He shook his head. “No.”
“Shit, man.”
“I know. It’s been mostly under control for the past few years. I just have episodes every once in a while.”
“Episodes? What kind of episodes?” Tripp asked.
“Well, usually the nightmares start up, I’ll get some flashbacks, and sometimes I have panic attacks. Sometimes it will just be something mild like my hands shaking.”
Tripp frowned hard. “How often does this happen?”
Jayme shrugged. “Once or twice a year. Usually something will trigger it, something subconscious; or it could be when I’m extremely stressed.”
“Okay, don’t stress you out, got it.” Tripp scoffed.
He chuckled. “Oh, and I used to smoke.”
Tripp threw his hands up. “Come on, man. The PTSD I can handle, but smoking? That’s a fucking deal breaker.”
Jayme laughed.
“Since we seem to be in a sharing mood, I hate peas. They’re gross,” Tripp said.
Both Tripp and Jayme laughed, the heavy mood fading away. Jayme parked the truck in the station’s parking lot, and they both got out. They walked into the building and went right to the conference room.
Brendan and Will were already there, as was Matt O’Reilly and his partner, Phillip Peters; along with several other officers that worked the same shift. Jayme and Tripp sat down at the table behind Brendan and Will.
“Sup, guys?” Tripp said with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Why the hell are you so cheery this morning? Jayme give you head?” Brendan said with his own shit-eating grin.
“Oh, you’d know if he gave me head because he’d be blowing bubbles with my cum,” Tripp replied, eyebrow cocked in challenge.
The room burst into laughter. Brendan looked downright disgusted, and Jayme just shook his head. That line was fucking epic. Leave it to Tripp to come up with something like that.
“Dude! I’m just imagining Jayme chewing on some cum like it was gum and blowing a fucking bubble with it. Dying!” Matt laughed so hard he had tears running down his face.
Tripp barked out a laugh and slapped Jayme’s shoulder. Jayme continued to shake his head. “Matt, you’re ridiculous.”
Matt held his stomach and swiped at his eyes. “So funny.” He wheezed. “The bubble explodes, and you have cum all over your face.”
Jayme’s lips twitched as he fought not to laugh, but now Tripp was cracking up and even Brendan was chuckling. Jayme turned to Tripp. “See what you started?”
Tripp grinned at him, those dimples deepening, and it made his heart skip a beat. “Sorry, not sorry.”
Sgt. Bernard walked in and called for them all to settle down. After their meeting they were dismissed to start their patrols. Jayme and Tripp got in their truck and headed off on their patrol. They stopped at Maynard’s to get coffee like they did every morning that they were working.
They had just gotten out of the truck, when the door to the store burst open; and a lanky young kid ran out. Mrs. Maynard was yelling from inside the store, but Jayme couldn’t make out what she was saying. The kid bolted toward a car waiting by the entrance to the parking lot. Tripp took off after him, leaving Jayme in his dust. Holy shit, Tripp was fast. He ran after them, watching as Tripp gained on the guy. When they got close to the car, Tripp pushed the kid; making him slam into the side of the car before crumpling to the ground. Tripp was on him a second later, yanking his arms behind his back and cuffing him.
Jayme pulled his weapon and trained it on the driver of the car. “Hands on the steering wheel!” he yelled.
Tripp pulled the kid he cuffed to his feet and took him to the back of the car; where he bent him over the trunk, and roughly patted him down. All while muttering about making him run.
Jayme took care of getting the driver out of the car, and cuffed and patted down. Tripp called it in using the radio on his shoulder. Mrs. Maynard came out and stormed across the parking lot.
“What happened?” Tripp asked breathlessly.
“He was trying to steal a carton of cigarettes when you two pulled up,” she said. She looked pissed, and Jayme had to fight not to smile. Mrs. Maynard was a tough old cookie. “He saw you and took off without the cigarettes.”
He glanced at Tripp, who looked pissed too. He and Tripp took the kids who were probably around eighteen, and put them in the backseat of their truck. They took Mrs. Maynard’s statement, then took the kids to the station where they were booked on a slew of charges. Mainly because Tripp was still irritated about having to run after the one kid, and because he tried to rob Mrs. Maynard, of all people. Tripp had a soft spot for the older woman. He treated her like a grandmother.
Once they were done at the station, they got back in their truck and got back to work. The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. They made sure to check on Mrs. Maynard before they went home that night. She was doing fine. They went home, showered and had dinner; then vegged out on the couch for the rest of the night.
