Page 57 of Mann Hunt
Declan smiled and said, “I think we’d better take this upstairs.”
Chapter Eighteen
Declan was jarred awake by a loud beeping sound.
“Don’t worry,” Luke said. “I set my phone alarm so I don’t miss roll-call. I’ve always had this thing about being on time.” Luke leapt out of bed, pulled his uniform shirt out of his gym bag and started to put it on.
As Declan watched Luke get dressed, he said, “Were you one of those kids who always wanted to be a cop?”
“Nah.”
“Parental pressure?”
“No. My own stupid choice.” Luke laughed. “Dad wanted me to follow him into politics. I was an only child, and that’s what was expected.”
“So. The son of a politician, huh?”
“Not just any politician. Calvin Luther Fraser.”
“No way? ‘Old Stetson’—he’s your father?” Declan was shocked.
“I never should have told you.”
Declan grabbed Luke and pulled him back into bed. “Are you kidding? Points to me. I just slept with the sonof, what is it, fourth-generation Conservative Party royalty!” Declan tickled Luke’s ribs. Luke giggled like a kid. “You choosing to be a cop… That must have been tough on him. It’s the end of a political dynasty. That’s got to be a kicker for an old-time right-winger like him,” Declan said.
“What’s really important to him is that I’m happy. That’s what we all want for the people we love, isn’t it? To be happy?” Luke asked.
“Not my dad,” Declan said.
“He must’ve been proud of you when you signed up for the force.”
Declan frowned. “The words ‘pride’ and ‘my dad’ don’t go together. He basically told me that I’d be joining up right after high school. He thought it’d toughen up his faggot son and I wanted nothing more than to prove that being gay didn’t mean I wasn’t a man. In training, I pushed myself harder than any of the other cadets. I was the top of my class in everything. Even then, my dad never showed any sign that he was proud of me. I was always a fag to him.”
“Did he say that to you?”
“He didn’t have to. I could tell.” Declan got out of bed, went over to the sink and got himself a drink of water.
Luke sat up on the edge of the bed. “When you got fired—what happened? I asked around but no one would talk about it in detail.”
Declan turned around. “After I graduated, I was involved in a domestic dispute call. A guy had beaten up his wife. She was a mess. I flashed back to the fights my folks used to have—not physical, like this one, but just as abusive. I wanted to kill the guy, but my partnercould see how it was affecting me and got me out of the way before I did something I’d regret.
“When we got back to the station I went to shower off the stress. There were a bunch of guys in the change room. This one cop, Hays, looked at me and said, ‘I’ve heard the rumours, and there’s no way I’m showerin’ with a queer! Use the ladies’ showers, you fuckin’ little cocksucker.’
“I remember flying across the room. A few swift punches left Hays on the floor with three broken ribs, a fractured jaw and a concussion. I walked away with my dignity and a pink slip. I found out later that my dad had saved me from a criminal assault charge by telling Hays that he would let everyone know that he was beaten up by a fag in a shower room if he dared to talk about the incident again. That was the extent of my dad’s loving instinct.”
“Wow. That’s rough.”
Declan moved back to the bed and sat down. “So, Constable Fraser, does your dad know what you like to do in your spare time?”
Luke got up and continued to dress. “Not the particulars. Yes, he knows I’m gay but I’d rather not talk about that right now. Look, I gotta go.”
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No. I’ve got to get to work. See you sometime later today?” Luke asked.
“Sure.”
“I’m off at four. I’ll text you my address in case you want to drop by.”
