Page 15 of Beautiful Rush
High school was ten years ago. I’d like to think I’ve changed a lot since then, but sometimes I still pushed the boundaries. “I’m flattered that you asked about me.”
She shrugged. “I was curious what your deal is.”
“Did they enlighten you?” I suspected that they hadn’t. We’d been more acquaintances than friends in high school. The one thing we had in common was that I hated their father. Seamus Vincent used to be the police chief at my precinct. He never liked me. Called me a maverick. At least I was an honest cop and not an abusive drunk, more than he could claim.
“Not really. You’re a man of mystery.” She looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to tell my story of how I became a cop.
“Back in high school, I didn’t have a lot of direction. I spent most of my time partying, hooking up with girls…I did all kinds of shit that was just the wrong side of good. By then, I’d figured out that I could use my charm to talk my way out of just about anything.”
“I bet a lot of people fell for that act.”
They did. But the smart ones saw right through it and called me out on it. “My grandfather knocked some sense into me. He was a homicide detective. Old school. Wore a trench coat and cheap suit. Smoked a pack a day. He was a real character.” I smiled at the memory. The man was a fucking legend. He got me through a lot of tough times with his take no bullshit attitude.
“One day… I was seventeen and my buddies and I were in the backyard, drinking, smoking, talking shit. My parents were at work and my grandfather rocked up. Told everyone to leave and they took off. He never had to raise his voice. He just had that look in his eye like you knew that if you didn’t do as he said, he’d kick your ass from here to Sunday. He told me we’re going for a ride. He owned a cabin upstate. He took me up there, didn’t say a word on the entire two-hour drive. When we got there, he lined up Folger’s coffee cans and beer bottles on wooden posts. Then he handed me his Glock and told me to shoot the targets. We did this for hours. While I worked on my target practice, he asked me questions. I don’t even know what he said exactly that made me see my future differently, but by the time we were on our way back to Bay Ridge, I’d agreed to apply to the Criminal Justice program at John Jay College. I got accepted and I ended up loving it. After I graduated, I went to the academy.”
It was a turning point in my life, a defining moment, but it didn’t make much of a story. “And now here I am, a reformed reprobate.”
“Reformed, huh?”
“Mostly.” I grinned. “I’ve never claimed to be a Boy Scout.”
“Thank God. How dull.”
I laughed.
“So, you’re using your talents for good, not evil? Unless…” She tapped her index finger against her lips, accusation in her narrowed eyes. I knew what she was thinking. With the way she was raised, I couldn’t blame her.
“I’m not a dirty cop.” Money didn’t motivate me, and I had hard lines that I’d never cross. That was one of them.
“You’ve never been tempted to take a kickback?” She rubbed the sole of her foot over my erection, her face the picture of innocence.
“You play dirty.” I pushed her feet out of my lap and immediately missed the physical contact.
She laughed and tucked her legs underneath her.
“I’ve never been tempted to take a kickback.”
“Why not?”
“As soon as you accept money, the person thinks they own you. My soul isn’t for sale.”
“So, are you a bad boy with a streak of good or a good boy with a streak of bad?”
I grinned. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re trouble.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
“And yet, here you are. Again.”
“I can’t seem to stay away from you.” My tone was light and teasing, but it was the most honest thing I’d ever said to her. She gave me a small smile, like she had seen right through me and knew that I’d meant it.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Currently single and available.” I held out my arms like I was hers for the taking.
“Are you sleeping with anyone?”
