Yeah, I became a cop. Surprising, right? After what happened with Patrick, I was hellbent on staying on the right side of the law. David wanted to get the fuck out of Dodge—Patrick’s face had been plastered on damn near every billboard along the gulf coast. We compromised and ended up in west Texas, renting a shitty little house in the college district. I went to college and got my sociology degree while David followed in his old man’s footsteps by starting his own construction company. John had loaned him the money to get it off the ground and David had jumped headfirst into being a business owner.
Even more surprising than my decision to become a cop was the fact that my father seemed to want the very same thing for me. Gone were the plans of me joining up with the Silent Phoenix MC. He’d shown up not long after the incident with Patrick, offering me a kutte and a chance to prospect for the club.
When I told him that I’d planned on looking into a career in criminal justice, he’d gone quiet. He scratched at his beard as he thought it over before a grin spread across his face. “My boy—a cop. At least one Sullivan will make something of himself.”
He was just full of surprises. Gone was the man who’d beaten my mom within an inch of her life for cooking chicken incorrectly. In his place was a man who rarely raised his voice and showed a genuine interest in his wife and son.
“Hello? Mike, you still there?”
I looked away from the blonde and her ass. “Yep, still here. Still thinking of a way to get your ass to unwind for a night. I worked all night and here I am at the gym, fresh as a fucking daisy. Surely, if I can pull a midnight and still go out, you can too.”
The blonde slowed her pace and tried to discreetly look back at me over her shoulder. I winked at her and her cheeks immediately flushed pink before she spun back around, giving me a nice view of that ass again.
“Fine,” David conceded and I grinned.
“Nick’s at eight, dick. Don’t flake out on me again.”
He laughed. “10-4, asshole.”
My shift had begun at eight the night before. I’d pulled over a car with a broken taillight, broken up a bar brawl between two drunken frat bros, responded to a burglary, and then dealt with a fuck ton of paperwork to top it off.
I went into the academy right after getting my degree. My father had supported me throughout school, but made it clear that if I didn’t get into the academy, I’d be on my own. Like I said, he was nothing like I remembered.
After FTO, I drafted to midnights, where I’d been residing a bit impatiently for the last four years. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed midnights—it was a hell of a lot better than working days where paperwork was the highlight of your shift.
I just wanted to be a detective—to be able to track my cases from start to finish. As it was, I’d bust someone only to turn around and hand it over to the investigating detective. I wanted the ability to control my cases until they were solved.
There’d been rumors for months that CAP (Crimes Against Persons) had an opening they were looking to fill. I’d applied to pick up extra shifts, knowing that it made me look better to the higher-ups. I just needed official word that they were looking and I’d make damn sure that I was first in line for an interview. Until that day, I’d be pulling midnights.
“So, you’re a cop?”
I looked away from the television screen mounted on a metal crossbar in front of me and down at the perky blonde with the great ass.
It was too easy.
Seriously, the badge was a pussy magnet.
I could say anything and they’d fall hook, line, and sinker for it. I paused the treadmill and grinned like there were a hundred paparazzi cameras in my face. “Why? You in need of some assistance?”
She licked her bottom lip—lips that had been injected with god-knew-what until they were perfectly pouty. I wouldn’t mind seeing them wrapped around my cock. She widened her eyes as if she read my thoughts. “I might be. Are you free, officer?”
I cleared the machine before she even finished talking and hopped down. “For you, Darlin’? I just might have some time to kill.”
“See? Aren’t you glad you came out tonight?” I slapped David on the back and took a long swig from the bottle of Guinness in my hand.
It was an unseasonably warm January night, so I decided we should hang out on the patio at Nick’s.
He looked between me and two of the guys he worked with. “Yeah, I’m not sure that this was ‘unmissable’ as you so eloquently put it—and what the fuck is going on with your eye?”
I reached up and patted the puffiness before grinning. “Well, it turns out that Little Miss ‘Aren’t you going to frisk me’ from the gym was very much married. Her husband got off early—ensuring that I didn’t get off at all.”
David’s two work buddies cracked up while he shook his head. “Mike, again? Jesus, put a leash on your damn dick. You should’ve stuck with Sadie, she was good for you.”
He didn’t get it. Being with Sadie had been a nightmare—she was constantly breaking down over Patrick’s disappearance and wanting to talk about it. Frustrated, I’d turned to someone who knew the whole story—my father. David was out because he’d made me swear to never bring up that night again.
I was desperate for advice and, in his own twisted way, my father knew just what to say. He bluntly told me that women were good for keeping a bed warm, but that they demanded something a man could never give—monogamy. He’d gripped my shoulder and told me that men like us would never be content to live with our balls in a vice.
I’d wanted to write the whole thing off as bullshit, but he had a point. I’d been happiest when I was inside of Sadie; any other time though, she drove me up a fucking wall. Breaking up with her had been a good decision. Now, I kept girls around long enough to keep my dick happy before sending them on their merry way.
It was a good arrangement for all parties.
I took another swig of beer. “Yeah. You might be right on the leash thing; I’ll probably need a muzzle as well. He’s a vicious son-of-a-bitch.” Everyone laughed and I continued, “As for Sadie, I could only watch her pine after Patrick Roy for so long before I decided to cut my losses and move on. Hard to compete with a dead guy, don’t you think, David?”
His face paled at the mention of Patrick’s name, but before he could respond, a flash of blonde appeared near him.
“Oh, head’s up,” I called out as the blonde and her drink fell into David’s arms. He didn’t even seem to be aware of the fact that she’d doused him in some fruity cocktail as he knelt down and freed her foot from the deck.
“Are you okay?”
The pint-sized blonde kept her head down and stammered, “I-I-I’m fine. Thank you.” Then she looked up and froze. Yeah, he had that effect on women.
Bastard.
He flashed her a big smile. “I think the only casualty was your drink, which I’m now wearing.”
David’s buddy, Pete, looked to me for answers and I shrugged. He wasn’t normally that talkative with people he didn’t know. In all honesty, he was kind of a grumpy asshole most of the time.
The blonde’s eyes drifted down his body and I shook my head. She was brazen to be eye-fucking him with a bunch of his buddies at the table.
She shook her head and muttered, “I’m so sorry about your shirt and for falling on you. I’ll let you get back to your evening. Again, I’m really sorry,” before turning to walk away.
I was all set to dive back into our conversation when he reached out and grabbed her hand. “Wait, at least let me buy you another,” he lifted his shirt up and smelled it, “Malibu and pineapple?”
Holy shit. He was into her.
She smiled again. “Shouldn’t I be buying you a drink?”
At that, he stood up and put his hand on her back. “Beautiful women should never have to buy drinks.” She walked towards the bar and he turned back to us. “Don’t wait up, fellas.”
Pete and Eddie raised their eyebrows and then went back to thei
r pitcher of beer. Not me though. I couldn’t recall one instance in the last thirteen years where David would’ve chosen to go off with some woman, abandoning boy’s night.
Me? I pulled shit like that all the fucking time. Not him though. In the past, when I’d asked him why he didn’t put himself out there more, he’d laughed and told me that he didn’t want to waste time with the wrong woman.
It had sounded like that psychobabble bullshit they spoon fed us at church camp growing up. I didn’t want to think of him as naïve, but my old man had cheated on my mom almost the entire time they’d been together. Who was to say that David’s old man hadn’t done the very same thing? He might’ve just been better at it. Hell, even Grey hadn’t seemed like the faithful type.
I watched as David and the blonde came back out onto the patio, choosing to sit as far away from our table as possible. I decided that I could sit and watch the two of them for a few more hours or I could go. I was tired anyway—dealing with Vanessa’s husband hadn’t been in my plans for the day.
It was Vanessa, right?
Maybe it was Veronica.
I threw a twenty down on the wrought iron table and made my excuses to Pete and Eddie. I’d barely made it out of the parking lot when it hit me.
Victoria!
That had to have been it. Damn, it would’ve been more helpful if she’d been screaming her own name instead of just mine.
Violet?
Vivien?
V—What the fuck is this guy doing?
The sedan in front of me had a taillight out and was weaving in and out of cars like it was a damn NASCAR race.
It was most likely a drunk driver.
And I was most likely not going to make it home any time in the foreseeable future.
The sedan veered to the right, banking its tires up on the curb before overcorrecting and swerving back into the middle lane.
Time to call for back up.
I hope David was just living it up because, while he was off getting laid, I was going to be stuck under a mound of paperwork thanks to the dickhead in front of me.
Some guys had all the luck.
Lauren
Lubbock, Texas 2009
“You doing okay today?” Dr. Mulloy peeked around the corner into my small office. Small was a bit of an understatement. There was a desk, filing cabinet, and chair—that was it. To get to my desk, I damn near had to turn my body sideways and squeeze in.
I closed the book in front of me. “Yes, just reconciling the credit card statement from last month.”
“Lauren, you know that I need you on top of things. If you’re already a month behind, then you may need to stay late to catch up. We wouldn’t want anything slipping through the cracks.”
I resisted the urge to scream. The clock read eight sixteen; this had to be a new record for her. “Well, I can only reconcile the previous month right now. So, I guess you could say we’re all caught up.”
She gave me a sympathetic smile as if I was a clueless child. “Lauren, I hired you because you seemed like someone who would keep my practice running smoothly. If that’s not the case anymore, then you need to make me aware of that. Okay?”
It had been like this for the last two years. I could tell her that the sky was blue and she’d sniff in a deprecating way before asking me to stay late and fix it.
I pasted a smile on my face. “It’ll be taken care of; you have nothing to worry about.”
Dr. Mulloy reminded me of Samantha Jones from Sex & the City. I’d only watched the re-runs when they aired on TBS in college, but I felt that I had a pretty good understanding of the show, however edited it may have been. She was gorgeous and blonde; and probably the only person who could tell you off with a smile on her face. She wore designer blouses and heels in a business where there was a good chance they’d end up covered in some bodily fluid before the day was up.
When I initially met her, I’d thought she was working the front desk—the pretty face hired to make the company look good, but no—the company was all hers. The woman oozed sexuality, yet somehow kept it completely hidden from patients. Sure, the occasional dad would show up to an appointment and try to convince her to go to dinner, but she would respectfully turn them down.
If it had ended there, I might never have seen the resemblance. It didn’t though—she’d show up every Monday morning, complaining about how little she’d slept during the weekend or how sore she was, thanks to whoever the flavor of the week was. It had made me uncomfortable at first; I kept expecting HR to intervene, before remembering that I was HR and all that would result in would be me losing my job. These men never seemed to last longer than a week. There’d be the obligatory bouquet of roses that would be delivered to the office and that was the last I’d ever hear about them.
She gave me an absent smile before disappearing again. Two years in and I got the impression that she only popped in for these little visits in the hopes of busting me doing something wrong. However, there was more than enough work to keep me busy for the next ten years. Both real and imaginary.
How’d a nice girl like me end up in Texas?
Well, it was a funny story. After Monica made off with my graduation gifts and several of Josué’s things, I’d been prepared to bail. I hadn’t expected that he’d let me continue to stay there—like mother, like daughter, right?
I’d waited until he fell asleep before grabbing a couple of pairs of underwear and a toothbrush—the only items I felt comfortable taking. I’d just made it to the front door when his voice stopped me.
“I had a funny feeling that if I slept out on the couch, things might get interesting around here.” He sat up on the couch and turned on the lamp.
I’d stammered out an apology before offering him my twisted logic on why it was better for me to go. Instead of agreeing, he’d laughed at me. Then he said something that had stuck with me since.
“Mija, do you really think that anything she does reflects on you? I watched her try to order your food tonight. Simple, right? Except she didn’t tell them to hold the onions—you hate onions. I had to make sure they knew that. How can someone who brought you into this world know next to nothing about you?”
It was true. He knew more about me than my own mother, because he had taken the time and shown an interest.
Josué continued, “You might be able to walk out that door and make it on your own, but you shouldn’t have to make that choice. You need me, just as much as I need you.”
At that, my walls had come down and I came clean on my side project. Instead of being upset, he wanted to see who I’d picked out for him.
And that’s how Isaac came into our lives. He and Josué messaged each other through the website initially, but before long there were video chats and phone calls throughout the day. They met three months later and that was it—Isaac was part of our family. We flew to Boston in June of 2005 because Josué wanted to see his favorite baseball team play. After the Red Sox swept the Reds, Isaac got down on one knee and asked Josué to marry him. Massachusetts had legalized same-sex marriage, so the three of us went down to the courthouse the next day.
Since Isaac ran his own company down in Texas, Josué and I decided it would be easier for us to move to him. I’d just wrapped up my first official year in college. Thanks to all the dual credit courses I’d taken throughout high school, I enrolled as a sophomore.
Isaac helped me get enrolled at Texas Tech, while Josué took a counseling job at one of the local high schools near Austin. We might’ve been six hours apart, but moving had taken a weight off my shoulders that I hadn’t even realized was there. Before, I was constantly on alert for Monica to make a reappearance. We’d searched every pawn shop in town, but never found the stuff she stole from us. She’d never think to look for me outside of Colorado—it was freeing.
My desk phone buzzed. “Lauren, your interview is here.”
I sighed, while contemplating banging my head against the desk. I needed a front desk coordinator�
�badly. If I thought her reaction to reconciling the credit card statements was bad, I couldn’t imagine how Dr. Mulloy would react to finding out that I still hadn’t filled that position.
My current girl would be going back to college and the spring semester started next week…so, I was on a bit of a time crunch.
I smoothed my hair back and took a deep breath. Interviews stressed me out—I had to uphold my image as office manager, while making sure to include Dr. Mulloy’s expectations. It made it difficult to get any of the potential employees to let down their guard and open up to me.
I hadn’t exactly made friends in the workplace. Initially, I’d gotten close to a couple of the girls, but Doc hadn’t liked that. “Honey, I brought you on as an office manager—it’s going to be hard to manage an office if you’re friends with everyone.”
I didn’t fault her for it. And I desperately needed the paycheck, so I complied. I’d wanted to prove to Isaac and Josué that I could stand on my own two feet. I needed them to know that investing in me had been worth it.
With a small nod, I left my office with confidence. Danielle, one of the dental assistants, met me at the front desk and pointed the interviewee out. “She’s in the consult room. Seems quiet, but her résumé shows consistency. I think she could be a good fit. You’re the boss though.”
I nodded and took the paperwork from her hand. “I can take it from here.”
I was the boss.
The bitch.
The boss bitch.
I wasn’t here to make friends.
Somehow, my little pep talk didn’t leave me feeling particularly good about myself.
The woman sat on the thick red upholstered chair—I’d tried talking Dr. Mulloy out of decorating with red furniture as it too closely resembled blood, yet here we were with an office full of bleeding red chairs. She kept obsessively tucking her hair behind her ear as she looked around the small room.
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