Page 5 of Before They Were Lovers

God released Ronowski so fast he crumpled to his feet, hacking to catch his breath.

“Just getting to know each other, Cap,” Day answered. “Officer Ronowski was just showing my partner the correct technique for choking the shit out of a suspect.” Day grinned. “Isn’t that right, Officer Ronowski?”

Day slapped the shit out of Ronowski’s back a few times as if helping him with his coughing fit, all while God glared at the homophobe in a way that dared him to say otherwise.

“Yeah. We’re just fucking around, sir,” Ronowski huffed, rubbing his reddened throat.

“Well, knock that shit off and get your asses down to admin, now!” the captain barked, then stormed off.

Day and God locked gazes for a long moment before God arched one dark brow. “Partner, huh?”

“Yep,” Day confirmed. He wasn’t having it any other way.

God shrugged and grumbled, “Works for me.”

They were given a wide berth as they walked out of the meeting room arm in arm.

God

Three months later, Year One…

The brisk night air cut through God’s jacket like a double-edged blade, but he’d grown used to the cold. Six months in, and the Atlanta streets had already molded him into something distant and tough.

As a rookie, he had to pay his dues by way of long shifts, grueling hours, and way too much goddamn paperwork.

He and Day were on foot tonight, walking their beat through the streets of downtown. Even though the sun had long since set, there was no relief from the noise and hustle of the city. Cars whizzed past, drivers honking and yelling curses, people shouted, and sirens screamed in the distance.

His gaze continuously scanned everything from the pavement where he stood to two miles in front and behind them. His partner was just as strong at spotting trouble before it spotted them. They were learning to track well together but still working out a few kinks in their communication.

God hadn’t known what to expect when Day had all but demanded they be partners. His bold antics in orientation were something God would usually ignore, but instinct had brought him out of his chair and to the brazen man’s defense before he could think better of it.

God didn’t like spotlight seekers. Most of the rookies in their precinct bragged about everything from their latest bustto who they fucked over the weekend like anyone gave a damn. Officers who couldn’t keep their mouths shut for more than thirty minutes on a stakeout. But Day, he was fierce when the job demanded, quiet when God needed him to be, and funny as fuck when he least expected it.

Day

“Unit 12, report of an 18-130 across from the Gold Gate Lofts. Suspect is male, wearing a green hoodie and dark pants, black hat, last seen headed north on Mitchell Street. Please respond.”

God rolled his eyes, reaching for the radio on his shoulder. “Seriously. A goddamn Peeping Tom.”

“Hey, that’s why I took this job,” Day droned. “To get lethally dangerous motherfuckers like that off the streets.”

God clicked his radio on. “Unit 12 responding.”

The Gold Gate Lofts was on their beat, less than three minutes away as they took off at a modest jog.

They turned down a narrow alley adjacent to the luxury apartments, God’s massive form barely fitting down the tight walkway. Day was quiet as he scanned the darkness. He was first to hear the faint shuffle of footsteps behind the dumpster.

“Found our perverted rat,” Day said, easing around the side of the brick wall, using the shadows like a second skin.

“You take left. I’m going right.”

“Roger that,” Day whispered.

God shouted in a voice that boomed like thunder, “APD, get your ass outta there, now!”

Day stayed pressed against the wall in case the guy bolted.

A wiry man in oversized dark clothes, with eyes full of panic and fear, slunk out from behind the dumpster with his hands raised.

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