Page 26 of Before They Were Lovers

“I’m not wearing cargos, man. These are sweats, so I have a whopping two whole pockets.” Day reached in one, pulled out his keys, cell phone, and some lint, and threw it all on the counter.

“Don’t bullshit me. I want the cash! Hurry up!”

The clerk jumped, tears streaming down her cheeks as she kept her hands up near her ears.

Day couldn’t see him yet, but he could practically feel God approaching, silent but deadly.

“Sure, no problem.” Day reached into his other pocket, pulled out his cell phone, keys, and badge, and dropped them on the counter.

The clerk seemed to notice he was a cop first—if the loud gasp was any indication—before the rookie thief did as he scrambled to sift through the few items for the cash.

Then his fingers grazed the shiny badge before he yanked them back as if he’d been burned. The robber snapped his head toward him, his eyes blown wide, then narrowing as if maybe Day was playing a joke on him.

Day’s humor was gone, replaced by anger and annoyance. Because now he’d have paperwork to do and would probably miss half the game.

“Youwoulddo this now, when the Hawks game starts in a few hours,” Day growled. “God, why of all days…?”

“I…I…I’m sorry…” the man stuttered, inching backward, slowly lowering the gun before letting it fall to the ground.

“I wasn’t going to kill anyone. Swear it,” he said, lip trembling. “I just wanted to scare you.”

“You couldn’t kill a goddamn squirrel with that tiny shit,” Day retorted. “You’d do more damage using a paintball gun.”

The crook took the few bills he’d shoved in his pocket and tossed them back on the counter before he turned to make a maddash for the door. He ran face-first into a concrete boulder of muscle and grit.

The clerk screamed and slammed her hands over her eyes.

The thug staggered, dazed, but before he could make another go for the exit, God clamped the man around his wrist and spun him as if he were a rag doll, locking him in a chokehold.

“Freeze,” Day said in a bored tone. “Police.”

The robber struggled, kicking and bucking, but he didn’t stand a chance. It was seconds before his fight drained, his eyes fluttering shut and his body going limp.

The clerk screamed again when the guy’s body hit the dirty linoleum.

“Hey, chill out, lady,” Day said, picking up his phone to dial 9-1-1. “You’re giving me a headache.”

“But, but…” She sniffed, pointing at the unconscious man.

“He’s not dead. He’s asleep,” God rumbled, then pointed over his shoulder. “Ma’am, do you have any other Fritos besides original? Maybe in the back.”

The woman blinked owlishly, as if they’d both lost their damn minds.

“Really?” Day laughed.

This was his partner…for life.

God

Eleven months later…

God sat idling at the curb in front of Day’s apartment complex. The gray morning was barely awake, the light still fighting to break through the dense haze of darkness.

He’d been doing this for a long while, living the same rhythm…with Day at his side.

But today, their routine was about to change.

Day tossed his bag in the back before climbing into the front seat and immediately reclining the seat back.

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