Renegade
Filling out paperwork is my least favorite thing about this job, but it's a necessity. I usually try to get it done immediately after we finish a raid, but tonight, my mind is somewhere else. It's on a southern debutante who looked like a porn star on her knees.
Shaking my head, I lean back over that paperwork and continue writing up my report.
I'm quiet as I move deeper into the woods. My breathing is slow and steady, I'm not winded and I'm on high alert. All my senses are attuned to what's going on around me. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins, making sweat trickle along my back and run down under the bullet proof vest I wear. This is exactly why I wear leather gloves, so that the gun doesn't slip between them when my heart pounds the fastest and my head runs through every scenario.
I stop for a moment and focus on chewing my gum, let it regain my equilibrium. I spot Ace up ahead and he motions to me to stop. My reaction is immediate. I hear what he hears. People are talking, but we can't make out the words. Looking around at the trees around us, I see that they've turned black – it's a reaction that happens when people are running a still. We're close.
In the silence, we hear a shot. Ace and I immediately hit the ground, and I hear the bullet hit a tree somewhere behind me.
“Motherfucker," I mumble under my breath. They've got a lookout this time.
Bringing myself back to the present, I continue filling out my incident reports, shaking my head at how brazen some of the people we go up against are. In the end, we breached the compound and took our suspects into custody. Long day, long night, and now all I want is a shower and my bed.
“You outta here?" Holden asks as I digitally sign my paperwork, upload it to the server, and close my work laptop.
“Sure am, unless you need me to do anything else?"
I grab my jacket, but don't put it on because I'm dirty and I don't like to do laundry.
“No, just wanted to let you know you did good today," he tells me, giving my hand a shake. That means a lot coming from him. I'm the newest on the team and the youngest. Trevor is six months older than me and holds it over my head whenever possible.
“Thank you," I feel a rush of pride. I never had pride in anything I did while I was growing up. Not in the shitty trailer we lived in, not in the piece of s**t rusted truck my Dad sometimes drove me to school in, and not in the f*****g free lunch I got every day in the cafeteria. Since I took off on my own, pride is something I never take for granted. I want to feel that rush in my chest whenever possible. “I appreciate that and I'm working hard to show you that I belong here."
“Trust me," Holden tells me. “It's not going unnoticed. We appreciate the work you're putting in."
That means more to me than I can say. I take satisfaction in my work and how I hold myself, because it's the only thing in my life I've ever had control of. “I won't let you down," I tell him as we walk to the parking lot.
“Never crossed my mind, my man."
I get into my truck and let myself shut off. It's then that I realize how f*****g tired I am and how much I've been through in the last few days. It's a lot to take in, and I need to decompress in a bad way. My bed is definitely calling my name.
* * *
My apartment isn't much, but it's mine. I don't have to worry about a drunk or high dad appearing around a corner when I least expect it. I don't have to listen for the tears of a mom who's not strong enough to leave or to escape her own demons. The quiet is my friend. I'm not one of those people who constantly has to have something playing in the background. I appreciate the silence.
I've had so little of it in my life.
Putting my keys on the breakfast bar, I reach into the pocket of my jeans and pull my cell phone out, seeing that I've missed a text from Whitney.
“Damnit."
W: Maybe we can have dinner tomorrow night in a neutral spot and come to an agreement about what we both want. I have no intention of making this difficult for you and I believe we should be able to meet each other halfway.
She's issued an olive branch, and I'd be a dumbfuck not to take it. I need to grab on and hold it with both hands. This is what I want, I want to be a part of my child's life. There is nothing negotiable about that; at this point I'll do what she asks just to get my foot in the door.
R: I'll pick you up at six tomorrow night. We can go to Birmingham, that way we won't run into anyone we know. We've got to work this out before we announce it. I want us to tell Trevor together.
I hope she's agreeable to what I've laid out. It means a lot that we tell Trevor; I don't like hiding things from him, I never have. He's always been there for me, no matter what's gone on in my life. He was one of the only people in my teenage years who knew exactly what was going on in my home. He never betrayed my trust, and I don't want to betray his.
My phone beeps as she comes back to me.
W: Sounds good, but I'll drive myself. If things don't go well, I don't want us to have to drive back in stony silence. We'll talk about it all tomorrow night.
Feeling better about things than I have all day, I finish emptying out my pockets and take off my boots, setting them next to the door in the hallway. The military and my upbringing makes me want to be an organized man. I don't like clutter, I don't like things not in their places, and I hate having loose ends dangling. That's part of the reason why I need to get this situated with Whitney – I need to know where my place is in her life. After not knowing my place for so long, I vowed to myself I would always know where I stand.
Grabbing a towel, I take off my clothes and put them in the hamper. Reaching into the shower, I turn on the hot water and wait for it to regulate to the temperature I want it to be. More than anything today, I need this shower to wash the dirt off of me and reveal the man I've become instead of the boy that I was.