Lucky Strike (9 page)

“Lucy, I’m sorry. I was being completely selfish when I left the way I did. And I know no matter what I say it still doesn’t change the fact that I threw everyone that matters to me the most in this world away.” I can feel the tears beginning to well up in my eyes.

“At least, you can see how selfish you are. You always have been. You never once think of how the people around you are going to cope when you pull this shit. I can’t keep doing this with you, Lucky. I can’t keep setting myself up just to get hurt again.”

“Lucy, please just let me prove to you that I’m changing. The old me never would have shown up at your door after what I did, she would’ve kept running for the ends of the earth and never came back, just so she could avoid having to look you and Ryder and Brian and Brooke in the face again. But I didn’t do that, I’m here facing my mistakes head on. I’m sorry for abandoning you. Please believe me when I say that I love you and I want to work this out. I miss you.”

The tears are now flowing down both our faces. I can see Lucy is fighting with herself. I know part of her wants to kick my ass while the other wants to hug me. Either way, I’ll, at least, get some form of attention from her.

Lucy stands up from the couch and runs over to me, pulling me in for a hug. I breathe a sigh of relief and wrap my arms around her.

“I’ve missed you so much, Lucky,” she murmurs. “Don’t ever run again, do you hear me?”

“Never again. I promise.”

Three hours down in the hell otherwise known as the gun cage. Eight hours of nothing but cleaning guns, repairing guns and loading clips. I don’t know how anyone can stand working down here for months at a time, I’ve barely survived the boredom of three hours. I guess I’ll be finding out, assuming I don’t use one of these guns on myself in the meantime.

I pick up the M4 rifle I’ve been cleaning and repairing for the past hour and a half to check the scope. The sight comes into focus just as another officer walks through the back door. Must be Edwards, the new transfer from the Twelfth Precinct, the captain told me about this morning.

“Good morning, Officer Dylan Edwards reporting for duty.” He extends out his hand to me. I can hear a faint Boston accent as he speaks.

“Nice to meet you, Edwards. I’m Officer Callahan, Ryder Callahan.”

I stand up from my chair, wiping the grease from my hand before reaching out for his. As I shake his hand, I notice his eyes widening and his mouth dropping open. He studies me up and down.

“You’re
the
Officer Callahan? You and your partner Gamble are legends down at the Twelfth.”

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Legends, that’s a new one. Can’t wait to tell Brian about this, he’ll get a kick out of our dumbasses being considered
‘legends.’

“That one time you two rescued that little girl during that bank robbery…” Edwards has this excited glint in his eyes like he’s meeting a celebrity or something. Which neither Brian nor I are. We were just doing our job.

“We were just doing what we had to do to keep that kid safe,” I reply.

“Yeah, but you could have left it to SWAT to go into that bank. So what’s a legend like you doing working in the cage?” he asks taking a seat at the work bench across from me.

“Guess you didn’t hear the tale of me getting drunk off my ass and stealing a cop car,” I reply setting the rifle I just finished repairing back into the gun case.

Edwards throws his head back laughing so hard he almost falls off his stool.

“I was going through some pretty tough shit at the time, I’m just lucky I didn’t get thrown off the force. So I’m guessing you must have fucked up royally at the Twelfth if you got stuck on cage duty during your first month here.”

“I’ve built the reputation of being a bit of a hot head which is why I was transferred here. The captain thought Sergeant Peterson could be a better influence on me.”

“Oh, you really must’ve done some stupid shit to get on his service. They call him the SWAT Nazi around here. I heard he once threw one of his own guys out of a window. You poor son of a bitch.” I can’t even hide my laughter at his poor luck. “Come on, I’ll show you around.” I lock up the gun cases then stash the keys in the lock box.

“So have you always lived here in Seattle?” Edwards asks, following me out the door to the stairwell.

“I grew up on Bainbridge Island. It’s about a thirty-minute ferry ride from here. Brian and I moved to the city to go to college at the University of Washington.” We step into the main precinct and the place is pretty quiet. The morning crews have left to patrol the morning commuters heading into the city. This place will be hopping by lunch. “So how long have you lived in Seattle?”

“I moved here from Boston with my mom just after I turned sixteen. My dad and older brother were sent off to federal prison, so my mom packed us up and moved us here to give me a better life.”

I’m taken aback by how forthcoming he is with his past. Not many people would share that kind of information with someone they just met. We walk into the breakroom and I ask if Edwards would like some coffee. He nods yes then takes a seat at one of the tables.

“How did your pops end up in jail, if you don’t mind me asking?” I hand him his coffee then take a seat across from him at the table.

“I don’t mind at all. I’m an open book. Besides, I believe my past is what makes me a better cop.” He takes a sip of his coffee then fills in the details about how his dad and his brothers robbed banks and armored trucks for a living. During a job gone wrong, his dad and brothers we taken down by the Boston PD.

“After all of that, what made you want to be a cop?” I’m oddly curious. Most people that grow up with a past like Edwards usually wind up going down the same dark path.

“We had a cop that lived next door to us. My dad and my brothers would regularly slash his tires and make death threats when he wouldn’t take their bribes to help them out if they were ever brought in. He never gave in. He stayed true to the code of being a cop. And I respected that because unlike the rest of my family I knew the difference between right and wrong. I never wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps. I want to help people and put people like my father and my brothers where they belong, behind bars.”

It’s after six when I pull up to Brian’s house. After spending the day in the cage getting to know Edwards, I invited him over for a beer and to meet Brian and Brooke.

Edwards follows me inside the house where we find Brian out on the back deck sipping a beer with his new partner, Hank Ross. I met Hank a couple of months ago after Brian was officially made detective. In the beginning, I wasn’t Hank’s biggest fan because he was taking my job of protecting Brian’s back. After getting to know him, I couldn’t have picked a better man to have my best friend’s back than Hank.

“Are you girls done making out back here, ‘cause I’m ready to drink this shit can of a day away,” I announce, slumping down into one of the lounge chairs with a heavy thud.

“Aww, did the monkey have a tough day at the zoo?” Hank laughs, handing me a beer.

“Fuck you, man. I’d like to see you last a day down in that pit of hell.” I twist the cap off my beer and take a long slow swig.

Oh yeah, that’s just what to doctor ordered.

“Damn it, Ryder, did you bring home another stray?” Brian asks pointing over at Edwards.

“Oh yeah, sorry. This is Dylan Edwards, he just transferred from the Twelfth. Dylan this Brian and Hank.”

“Welcome to the Second, Dylan.” Hank reaches over shaking his hand. Brian follows suit then grabs Edwards a beer.

“Dylan, by your accent I’m guessing you are originally from the Boston area.”

“Yeah, how did you know?” he asks twisting the cap off his beer.

“My wife, Brooke is from Charlestown, so the accent is familiar,” Brian replies.

“No shit that’s where I grew up. What’s her last name?”

“McCoy.”

“Brookie McCoy is your wife? Talk about a small fucking world. You’re one lucky bastard to have locked her down,” Edwards says before taking a sip of his beer.

Fucking small world indeed. Hank and I trade a shocked glance across the table, then look back to see Brian’s expression harden. His mind probably wondering if Edwards nailed his wife. I’m wondering the same thing too.

“Please don’t tell me you fucked my wife. It’s bad enough this asshole tried to nail her before I met her.” He points his thumb over at me.

Edwards lets out a chuckle. “Oh God no. She was way out of my league back then. And I didn’t particularly want to get shot by her dad had I even tried to lay a finger on his daughter.”

I can’t help but chuckle behind my beer. Having met Brooke’s dad, Matt, on serval occasions, I could see why Edwards was afraid of getting on his bad side. Matt could make a fucking rock nervous.

Brian and Edwards continue talking, Brian getting more of the scoop on Edwards’ past in Boston. I lay back in my chair, taking a swig from my beer and wondering how Lucky is doing at Lucy’s. I knew this was going to be her toughest battle, but I take it as a good sign that Brooke and her are still over at Lucy’s.

I glance over at Hank, who keeps nervously checking his phone. Hank is a single dad of a three-year-old daughter named Colby. Hank is a beast of a guy, tattooed and a wall of muscle. At first glance, you’d never guess he’s a big softy, who takes his kid to ballet classes and plays tea party. The dad thing is what bonded him and Brian in the beginning.

“Hank, where’s Colby tonight?”

“I just got a new live-in nanny and she’s watching her,” he says, checking his phone again. Poor bastard doesn’t get out enough.

“How is Nora working out for you, Hank?” Brian winks over at Hank. Now I’m intrigued about this nanny.

“We don’t need to talk about Nora. She’s my nanny and that is all these assholes need to know about her.” Hank tries to deflect Brian, but he’s still learning that when you tell Brian not to do something, he’s gonna do it.

“So get this. After Hank’s seventy-year-old nanny quits, this celibate bastard in all his wisdom decides to hire a twenty-three-year-old fresh out of college beauty to move in with him to help take care of his daughter.”

Hank hangs his head covering his bright red face with his hand.

“So how hot is she?” Edwards chimes in.

“Brooke met her two days ago and even she said she would do Nora.” Brian’s laugh echoes across the backyard.

“So how bad are your blue balls now you dumb bastard?” I can’t help but bust his balls. What single dad hires a hot ass nanny to work for him? Dumbass is just asking for trouble.

“You know, Ross, I know we just met but I’d be happy to fuck her for you. I’ll take this one for the team.”

“I fucking hate all of you right now.” Hank gets up from the table and walks back into the
house
while the three of us are practically rolling on the ground laughing.