Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 73824 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73824 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
He caught the look I must’ve had trouble concealing, and started to laugh.
“What?” I asked, clearing my throat.
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s just funny to see all of y’all’s eyes bug when y’all hear something personal about me. I never meant to keep that shit a secret, but it was easier than explaining to everybody and their brother why I was working for the police department when I have my medical degree. Something I am sure you’ll find out eventually since you’re dating the princess of the hospital.”
I blinked.
“You have your medical degree?” I asked in surprise.
He nodded. “Yeah. I do. And I only did it because my dad made me feel like a pile of shit for not following in his footsteps. The first patient that died I quit. Couldn’t take that shit anymore, and I quit. Joined the army. Special Forces from there. And now I’m here.”
I nodded. “I always just thought you had your paramedic license. I never knew you had anything quite so extravagant. Should we start calling you Doc?”
He gave me a look that said millions, and I chose that moment to shut up.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
He sighed. “My cruiser’s down. Somebody backed into me, tore the front fender clean off. The chief told me to get in the car with you, so I did.”
I nodded.
We usually only had one officer to a car, but we only had so many cars, and if a car did go down, we didn’t have any replacements. So, every once in a while, we had to double up or they were sent home.
“I was about to head to the school zone,” I said, starting up the car.
“Sounds good,” Michael said, buckling his seatbelt.
We made it to the school zone in time to catch our first speeder, a young girl in her early twenties.
She was going forty in a twenty, and had an attitude the size of Alaska.
“You want this one?” I asked in all hopefulness.
He snorted. “I’ll pass. I’ll get the next one.”
I rolled my eyes.
Michael hated pulling over women, because it was inevitable that they’d try to cry their way out of it, and he wasn’t a fan of anybody, let alone a manipulative woman, trying to get out of something she’d been doing wrong.
Sighing, I got out and walked to the passenger side of the car.
The young girl rolled her window down, and I said, “License, registration, and insurance.”
The young girl flipped her hair, and smiled, lifting her chest slightly.
I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
Her shirt was significantly shorter around her breasts than it had been when I pulled her over.
“I’m sorry, officer, why are you pulling me over?” She asked softly, batting her baby blues at me.
“License, registration, and insurance,” I repeated.
She pouted and reached into her glove box, then withdrew her insurance and registration before looking through her purse that was fifty times the size of a normal one.
“I’m sorry, I know it’s here somewhere,” she said sweetly.
I ignored the fact that she was pulling things out of her purse that most women didn’t let leave the darkened drawer of their nightstand, let alone the front seat of their car.
She giggled, and I rolled my eyes, taking a step back and started walking to my car.
“What’s going on?” Michael asked with a smile on his face.
“She’s pulling out fucking sex toys from her purse, and she conveniently can’t find her wallet,” I growled.
He snorted. “The car’s registered to a one Jasmine Jergen. These papers are for a Sasha Jergen. Jasmine has a warrant out for prostitution. Jasmine also has a warrant out for hot checks. Whomever she is, she’s fucked.”
I sighed. “Goddammit. I was hoping to see Reagan as she walked home.”
Reagan’s school was located less than a quarter mile from Free, and she walked home with the rest of her cousins every day. Usually, one or two of the adults from up there took turns walking them all home.
And today I’d miss it thanks to this dumbass in front of me.
“Fuck,” I sighed. “Let’s do this.”
***
“I missed you today, daddy,” Reagan said as she and I walked back to our place from Payton’s.
“I know, baby. I was there, too. But there was a speeder and she was in trouble. So we had to take her to the station,” I explained.
I was fairly open with Reagan.
I didn’t want her growing up with the wool pulled down over her eyes. I wanted her to know that this place wasn’t bad, per se, but there were definitely dangers in it that could harm her if she weren’t careful.
She knew all about strangers and to never, under any circumstance, get into a car with someone she knew or didn’t know unless I, one of the people at Free, or the men on my SWAT team told her to.
She also knew that her mother was not a good person, and that she wasn’t allowed to go anywhere with her, either. Although, she did know who she was and what she looked like.
“I know, daddy. I saw you leaving from the playground,” she said, patting my hand softly before bending down to pick up a rock.
Then she chunked the fuck out of it.
It sailed through the air in front of us and landed in the pond that was ahead.
It hit the water with a large plop, and Reagan continued to do it until she got tired of it.
The girl was a good pitcher, I’d give her that.
But then again, I paid for her to be, so she better.
Softball wasn’t cheap, but she enjoyed it, and I’d give her anything if it put that kind of smile on her face.
Rolling my eyes at my inability to say no to my child, I picked up a decomposed log and heaved it into the middle of the pond.
“I brought your gun. Do you want to shoot it?” I asked, looking down at my little girl that was all me.
She smiled, showing her missing front teeth, and nodded exuberantly. “Yes!”