Page 3 of His Valentine

“Sorry, Bri, he’s at the station tonight. You’re stuck with me. Will baking cookies work in his place?” We all settle down from laughing and saying hello.

“Yes.” My little girl drags out the ‘s’at the end of her word and is quick to add, “Don’t tell Uncle Ash.” She puts her finger to her mouth for emphasis.

“Alright, come here, you, before you get lost in a sea of sugar.” Briar detours from heading into the house. I squat down, preparing for the tackle hug she’s known for giving me, and hold her tightly.

“Love you, Mommy,” she says.

“I love you so much. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Be good, okay?” I reply.

“I’m always good.” There’s that spunk. She’s the best.

“Yeah, I know.” I squeeze her one last time then stand up, allowing her to go look at what I’m sure are all the goodies inside waiting for her.

“Thank you, Lennie. I appreciate you helping me out.” It doesn’t matter if I ask or she asks. I’m forever grateful.

“You’re welcome, but you know I love having her with or without your brother. Plus, she sends him a bunch of selfies, and he grumbles about missing out on our fun times together,” Lennie jokes.

“Still, I’m thankful, and I promise you won’t have her tomorrow. It’s Valentine’s Day, and Asher is off. Plus, Mom and Mike are planning some kind of evening where they all get dressed up, go out to dinner, and I’m sure take the princess shopping.” They go above and beyond. Everyone does, really, and I’m reminded by their random acts of kindness just how much of a village I have.

“Anytime, even if something changes and you need us tomorrow night. We’re here. This is just a speed bump. You’ll get through, and we’ll still be here. Always.” See what I mean? Best future sister-in-law ever. I’m either overtired or my period is rearing its ugly head, because tears try to surface. Lennie sees it. “Come here.” She pulls me into her arms, hugging me like sheknows this is exactly what I need. While you get hugs from your child and your family, sometimes, this type of being held is what you truly need, and she gets it. God, does she get it.

“Thank you all the same.” Lennie doesn’t let go until some of the tension leaves my body.

“You’re welcome. Now, go to work this weekend, then Sunday afternoon, come over, and we’ll have a pool day. Asher and the guys can be the pool boys. Just don’t tell them; they’ll never know.” She lightens the mood and helps calm my fraying nerves.

“You’re on. Text me when she’s up in the morning, and I’ll come grab her.”

“Will do,” Lennie says, yet we all know she won’t. They’ll let our girl stay as long as she wants. Once everything is settled, I head back toward my place and then climb in my car. I’ve got a job to do, and I need to get in the right frame of mind to do it.

2

TRENT

“Jesus, I hate the waiting game,” my partner Chase says, opening the door before sitting in the passenger seat. He closes the door behind him with two cups of coffee in hand, and I reach for one. There are advantages and disadvantages to this job, a job that doesn’t always seem like one when you’re taking the bad shit off the streets. Then there’s the downside, like tonight. Where you’re sitting and waiting for hours on end, never knowing if you’ll make it home to catch a few hours of sleep or get any sleep at all.

“Thanks for the coffee.” I lift mine to him in a salute. Chase has been with me for the past few years. He’s older, married, has two sons he’s currently putting through college, and is almost ready to retire from the force or at the very least looking for more of a desk job.

“Never a problem. Drove right by the coffee shop on my way here, figured we could both use caffeine tonight. You see anything yet?” We’ve been sitting on this case for months now, and we’re finally catching a fucking break.

“Hell no, been staring at the same building since I got here.” The ring we are going after involves more than just your run-of-the-mill drug traffickers. This group seems to have their fingers in a whole lot of pies, selling sex, illegal guns, and who knows what else we’ll stumble upon once we get inside their buildings.

“Figures,” he grumbles. Some nights, there’s activity, and we’re able to track the comings and goings, seeing drop-offs and more of the players in the game. Right now, we’ve got our eyes on what we know is the boss in this circle, his right-hand man, and a woman all in one place. It’d be the perfect time to bust them, except we want everything to stick. Allowing them to get off on a lesser charge would mean less jail time, drugs would still be on the street and infiltrating to every town or city in our county.

“Yep, looks like it’s gonna be a long night. You mind keeping a look out for a minute? My phone is being blown the fuck up.” My eyes have been locked on the door since the trio walked into the building, and since I was by myself until a few minutes ago, I’ve ignored the constant buzzing.

“Yeah, you’ve been on watch longer than I have anyways. Do your thing.” We’ve worked together for so long that our schedule works with one another. If his boys are home from school, I’ll take the earlier shift in the evening so he can spend as much time with his family as possible. Then I’ll take off a few hours before we’re done and either head home to get some shuteye or head back to the station.

I pull my phone out. There are notifications from the group text and a phone call from my dad. I’m about to hit his name to call him back when I glance at the time. He’s probably in bed for the night, so instead, I send him a text.

Me: Hey, saw your call. Everything good?

We’ll see if he responds. In the meantime, I’ll check out what is going on with everyone else. I won’t even open up my e-mailsuntil I’m in front of a computer. That shit takes up more time than I even want to think about right now.

Johnny: No meeting at the club Sunday. It’ll have to be at my place or someone else’s. Closed for renovations.

Asher: We can have it at my place. Gotta make sure Lennon is good with it first. The pipsqueak is at the house tonight, so getting any answers out of them will be hard with all the pictures Briar spams me with. Wish my fuckin’ sister would quit working so damn much. I’d much rather she be with Briar and Lennon instead of working around a bunch of horny college kids.

My fist tightens on my lap, thinking about Kennedy working at a bar and how I’ve yet to smooth shit over with her. I fucked up, really fucked up. The reason I’ve been unable to get through to Kennedy is because of this job right here and her working at a bar; our schedules are completely opposite. The rare times I have seen her, she goes the opposite direction to avoid me. I’ve been biding my time, but if we’re all getting together at Asher’s, I’m going after the woman I pushed away.

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