Double Tap (Code 11-KPD SWAT 2)

I kept walking, making it out the front door before a bottle of coke was launched at my back.

I froze and turned back, seeing the teenager looking away.

“Dispatch, this is unit three. I need some backup,” I said into my mic.

The kids eyes widened, and he looked around wildly.

I was, however, blocking the only exit that was accessible at the moment.

“Wrong move, young man,” I said to the little turd.***“You’re lucky I’m taking you home instead of to the station,” I said to the little asshole. “I could’ve tried you as an adult, but since your birthday was only a week ago, I’m being lenient. There are some things you need to learn, and one of those is not to antagonize cops. They’re going to be your best friends if you need them. Not if you assault one of their officers, though.”

I hadn’t realized who he was at first, only seeing the dirty jeans and the stupid shirt at first.

I hadn’t even looked at the kids face for long, other than to determine he wasn’t a threat.

The moron stayed silent as I pulled up into his driveway and shut the SUV off.

I stepped out and took a look around, happy to see the old place restored to its former glory.

The area surrounding the barn was bustling.

I saw who I thought was Banks, although I hadn’t seen them in eight years so I wasn’t a hundred percent sure, and I walked towards him.

He spotted me immediately, stripping his gloves off and hopping down from his truck where he was tossing hay over the side.

“What can I do for you…Nico!” The last was finished in an exclamation.

His face transformed from concerned to happy as he started jogging forward, threw his arms around me, and practically squeezed me to death.

“Oh, man. You’ve gotten fuckin’ huge,” I said, squeezing back just as tight.

That’s when I knew it wasn’t Banks, but Callum.

Callum was the middle. He’d been a scrawny fifteen year old the last time I’d seen him. Now, though, he looked exactly like Banks, who’d been the second oldest.

Callum was also a hugger and always had been.

I didn’t mind though. I missed the young man I’d come to know well when he was a kid. In his place, though, seemed to be a very sturdy young man.

“Holy shit, Callum. You’ve gotten fucking big,” I said again, still not able to believe it.

Callum grinned wolfishly at me. “I’m a fucking beast, huh?”

I laughed. The boy had always had a sense of humor if nothing else.

“Yeah, beast is a good word for it.” I shook my head, then sighed. “Where’s Ace? I have a wayward youth in the back of my truck, and I need to relinquish him,” I said.

I didn’t really have to relinquish him, per say, but I needed to let him know the situation, and explain what would happen if the kid decided to assault another police officer. The person to do that was the eldest, and since Georgia was currently at work, Ace would have to do.

Callum’s eyes narrowed and he turned a glare on the young man in the car.

“That little prick,” Callum growled, then yelled. “Ace!”

Ace appeared out of the barn moments later, wiping his hands on a paper towel.

Built like a body builder, he looked like he could bench two of me. His blonde hair was covered by the usual cowboy hat that all of the Valentine boys wore from the moment I first saw them.

He was the spitting image of his father, Ace Senior.

Which I’m sure bugged the absolute shit out of him every day when he looked in the mirror.

“What can I help you with?” He asked.

Then his eyes narrowed, and a grin much the same as Callum’s split his face.

“Nico! How ‘ya fuckin’ been, man?” He asked, offering his hand.

I took it and shook it, giving the man a clap on the back.

“I’m okay,” I said tiredly.

He frowned. “You sound like shit. You looking for Georgia? She’s at work today.”

I shook my head and sighed. “Nope. I have something for you.”

I walked to my cruiser and opened the backdoor.

When the youngest Valentine refused to come out, I sighed and hauled him out by the back of the shirt.

As his head hung in defeat, I sighed. “Move boy.”

He did so, albeit reluctantly.

Ace’s disappointed gaze stayed glued to his little brother.

When we were close enough, he let out an exasperated sigh. “Darby Alexander Valentine, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

I wanted to laugh at the way Darby wilted at his brother’s harsh reprimand.

“But-” Darby tried.

“Silence,” Ace snapped. “You’re eighteen fucking years old. Georgia doesn’t have to let you live here. You keep pulling this shit, and you’re gonna find yourself out on your ass. Then what’ll you do?”

Harsh, but true. The farm was left to the eldest, Georgia. She’d deeded a fifth of the ranch to each boy as they reached their twenty first birthday. Darby was the last one not to reach twenty one. He still had three years to go, and if he kept it up, he wouldn’t be getting much from his sister.

“I don’t like it here,” Darby said petulantly.

Ace looked at his younger brother, concern morphing his angered face.

“You’re not the only one it hurts, you know. We hurt just as much as you do,” Ace said softly.

Darby hung his head.

“I wish I could see them one more time. I want to wake up and realize it’s all a bad dream. Sometimes I think I can manage it, but then you brought me here. And here everything is worse. At least there I could pretend that they were all at home waiting on us to come back. Now I wake up and see that house gone…see their graves…and I can’t breathe,” Darby said roughly.

“That doesn’t give you the right to break the law. I miss them just as much as you do. The same pain fills me day and night. What did you do?” He asked.

Darby shook his head. “I…I threw a bottle of coke at his back.”