Page 11 of Concealed

“That’s a fact. And hopefully, she’ll start to believe it again.”

We shoot the shit until we both have to start our shifts, and then I head inside to find my new partner. Hopefully, my reputation hasn’t preceded me too badly and, if it has, I’ll need to convince him that I’m not an unreliable hothead. If you go to war with someone, you need to know that they have your back.

I’m just turning my personal phone off when a text message comes through.

Rebecca:It’s Rebecca. Now you have my number, too. Thank you again for everything.

Wyatt:No problem. I’m happy to help. Let me know if you need anything, okay? I left the number for the station, and dispatch can always reach me.

Rebecca:Is it okay if I put some of your stuff away, or do you have specific places in mind for it?

Wyatt:How come? Not digging the ambiance?

Rebecca:I want to stay busy, and it’s the least I can do when you’ve opened your home to me.

Wyatt:Feel free to put stuff wherever you want, but don’t go to any trouble.

Rebecca:See you tonight?

Wyatt:For sure.

I debate making a “honey, I’m home” joke, but it’s too soon. I figure we’ll start with her talking to me and letting me look into her pretty blue eyes more regularly before we progress any further. It will be a delicate balance of not treating her like she’s broken and being mindful of her boundaries and triggers.

But I’m a cop. None of this is new to me. It’s never been part of my personal life before, but at least I have the transferrable skills to manage such a delicate situation.

Hopefully.

My new partner, Chris Wallace, is waiting for me in the bullpen after I dump my stuff in a locker. He’s around the same age as Grant and equally fit with a friendly smile and belly laugh that echoes through the station. His previous partner retired, so now he’s stuck with me.

Some cops are happy to stay deputies forever, not wanting to deal with the politics or bullshit that comes with advancement.

Being a cop is not a 9-5 job where you swipe in and out on time, but hanging in the lower ranks without taking on extra responsibilities is as close to it as you can get in this line of work.

We go on calls that end whereas detectives have cases they own.

I’ve always had ambitions to make detective and eventually captain, but understand why plenty of other cops don’t want the extra headache. We already collect ex-wives because of our shift work, so at least deputies aren’t constantly on call to further wreak havoc on their home lives.

Contrary to popular belief, the majority of my time in LA wasn’t spent responding to violent crime calls. I had a tough beat, so I did a lot more of it than my peers, but I still managed a lot of routine stuff, like traffic violations, medical emergencies, property crimes, and just being proactive before people started shooting each other.

In Sunnyville, I’m guessing I’ll spend even less time doing anything remotely interesting.

At least this station also does alpha and bravo shifts – meaning we rotate twelve-hour day and night shifts – so I don’t have a new schedule to get used to on top of everything else. Cop hours aren’t for the faint of heart, but I actually like working a few twelves and then having a few days off.

“Good of you to show up,” Chris says with a wink.

I’m exactly on time, but this is a small, tight-knit force, and it looks like Chris arrived early to shoot the shit with the night shift before the morning briefing.

“I’ll start sleeping on the job by week three,” I return.

Undoubtedly, he’s heard a version of why I’m here, and it will take me some time to get my story across and have him actually believe it. Any partnership without trust just doesn’t work, and it’s a hard pill to swallow that I’m starting at square one with basically everyone.

Gabe has always stood by me, even when the media shit storm was enough to take out the downtown core. And the depth of his loyalty is exactly why I have a sexy new roommate who is terrified of me.

Fair trade-off.

“Around here, you should be good by around week two.”

We head into the morning briefing where we get a rundown on what happened overnight. There were a few domestics and a group of high schoolers drinking underage, but otherwise, it sounds like they had a quiet, routine night.

---