AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I already told you, Megan,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “Everything you’ve done is perfect. This will be too.”
I sit my glass on the side of the tub and lean back against him, letting the water swirl around us, knowing that right here, with this man, everything is perfect already.
9
Brady
The next week is a whirlwind. I took Megan back to her place the next day, hating the idea of leaving her side, but her insistence on work and school and all the other little fiddly bits of life were at least the voice of reason I needed to hear at the moment. She’s got this uncanny skill, this ability to know exactly how to move with me, think with me. It’s like we aren’t two people, but one.
I took her out a few nights, tried to talk her into skipping class a few more, but she’s got her goals, and I gotta say, in spite of how many times I tell her she can just stay with me, can quit her job, she’s kept a level head.
Funny. As a cop, I always figured I’d be the one making the cold, logical choices. Things can change in an instant though, I’m learning.
I’m walking from my car to the jewelry store, waiting for her shift to end. For once, thankfully, it’s not a night her aunt’s making her close the place down again. I wasn’t exactly partial to the old gal to begin with, but now she’s cramping my time with Megan, and that’s not something I take too lightly.
I’m half a block away when I hear him.
Brad freakin’ Thompson. He’s not exactly the new kid on the block, though after his uncle got him in through some kind of slick politicking about six months ago, it’s like he’s made it his personal mission to be the thorn in my side. I’d take a half-witted radio operator over this kid any day. Because, the fact is, at least the radio newbie was trying. Thompson just wanders around like he’s cock of the walk, soaking up all the adoration of being a boy in blue without ever happening to head out and do any kind of useful work.
Probies.
I shake my head and, for a split second, think about just ignoring him. Ever since he saw Meg and me getting in the car that first night, it’s like he’s physically unable to give it a rest.
“There he is,” he calls over my shoulder. “Officer Cradle-robber, off to pick up your gal?”
I glance up at the storefront. If I have to talk to the little shit, I may as well get it over with so I can get on with my night.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I ask. “Or are you just out flaunting the badge again?”
“Oh, testy,” he laughs. “Wassamatter? She ain’t giving you any? Not enough cotton candy and lollipops yet? You gotta earn it, you know.”
I have my hands in my pockets and despite how much I will myself not to, I can feel my fingers curling into fists.
“What is it, Thompson? I got things to do.”
“I bet you do,” he says, grinning like the cat that just ate the canary. “You must be living out a serious fantasy here. It’s a shame they grow up, though, isn’t it?”
I look at him. This, this guy right here, this is why cops get a bad name. Sure, he may have grown up a spoiled little brat, to begin with, but giving him a badge and gun sure didn’t help matters. I take a breath, thinking maybe if I’m boring enough, if I don’t take the bait, he’ll get on with whatever it is he’s wanting to do. The frustrating thing is, he probably doesn’t have a damn thing to do at all. Just run out the clock on his shift. If he even clocks in and out.
“I was talking to a couple of the fellas today,” he says, that stupid smirk still on his face, “and we were thinking. It might be wise of you to bring in a birth certificate for her next time you swing by the station. Ya know. Gotta make sure things are on the up and up.”
And that does it. I don’t even realize it’s going to happen until it already has. Poor old Thompson never sees it coming either. So fast it’s almost a blur, I’ve clocked him across the side of his face, my hand back in my pocket before he’s even regained his balance. He stumbles a step back and I’m on him. Not touching him, but looking down over him, looming over the little shit, my voice like ice.
“That’s your warning. Don’t you ever call into question either my integrity or the morals of that young lady. I don’t care who your uncle is. The next time you even mention her, a bloody nose is gonna be the least of your worries.”
He looks up at me, shocked. Whether it’s from the punch or the fact that anyone would even dare talk back to him, I don’t know and I don’t care.
“Not much to say, huh?” I ask. “That’s good. You need to learn to keep your trap shut. That, or start carrying around a plastic baggie.”
I stare down at him for a second longer, watching him wipe at the blood with the back of his hand, and then turn back toward the jewelers.
“Why?” he says from behind me.
“For your teeth,” I say.
One thing about jewelry stores,there is no chance to stand outside them without somebody noticing, either because they’re inside and wanting to sell you something, or assuming you’re not bringing the best of intentions with you. I try to slow my breathing before I enter the store, but I can still feel the adrenaline when I get inside. Megan though, the sight of her calms my heart rate at least a little.
Another one of those funny things, I think. She can get my pulse pounding or calm me down, just based on a look.
