Fissure (The Patrick Chronicles 1)

“And you can hear them from a mile away?” There was nothing antagonistic about her voice, just curiosity. Asking for an explanation—one that I couldn’t give at this time of impending arrest.

“I can,” I said, moving right along to my closing point. “When they get here, don’t say a word. Okay? Once we’re gone, go to the nearest police station and make your report.”

“Since I’m a fan of efficiency and convenience, why can’t I just tell these cops, in the comfort of your home, what happened?” she asked, her fingers gripping into my back like she too was already experiencing the separation anxiety I was.

“These cops are coming to arrest a bad guy, not take a domestic violence report from a nice girl,” I said, steering us out of the bedroom because I didn’t want anyone busting down my front doors. “We need empathetic, non-biased cops on our side here and I promise you the ones about to come through that door won’t be.”

She could hear the sirens now—her head whipped towards the door like she was ready for an invasion and tear gas. Ever so slightly, so much so I could barely detect it, she started to tremble.

“This is no time to lose your courage now, Em,” I said, squeezing her shoulders. “Be brave. I promised you everything will be all right and that’s a promise I made with no maybes, no conditions. That’s a promise I’ll go to my grave to keep.” I looked hard at her, kissing her lips for the last time in what would be a while. The cops were already power-walking up the driveway—three of them. “Okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered, bobbing her head.

“I love you, Emma Scarlett,” I said, pressing my forehead against hers. “You make me every shade of crazy, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m coming back for you, and I better find you waiting for me because I don’t care what, why, or who it is, I’m not letting you go without a fight.”

A rapping that thundered into the room and made both of us snap to attention, whipping our heads towards the door.

I slid her a reassuring smile before turning and walking towards the door, but she didn’t let me go alone. She wouldn’t let me face this without her at my side. She was just as much my protector as I was hers, and that made me feel every kind of good a man could feel.

Resting my hand on the handle, I exhaled. Sliding her hand over mine, she gave it a squeeze and helped me get this over with.

“Patrick Hayward?” the cop sporting a buzz cut, a mastiff sneer, and a pair of handcuffs boomed as soon as the door was open.

I nodded, spinning a one eighty, my hands crossing together over my back.

“You’re under arrest for the aggravated assault of Ty Steel. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney.”

I smirked at the floor—my attorney was going to kick their attorney’s ass.

And then I looked back up at Emma. At her anxious face, but still peaceful eyes. I was going to jail for a crime I didn’t commit for a woman I loved. And I’d do it all over again. And I’d never been so bloody happy in my life before.

As officer bull mastiff started pulling on my freshly handcuffed wrists, I slid a smile into position, and I’d bet my fortune my eyes even twinkled. “Don’t worry about me, Em. No bars can keep me caged.”

THE END

o;And you can hear them from a mile away?” There was nothing antagonistic about her voice, just curiosity. Asking for an explanation—one that I couldn’t give at this time of impending arrest.

“I can,” I said, moving right along to my closing point. “When they get here, don’t say a word. Okay? Once we’re gone, go to the nearest police station and make your report.”

“Since I’m a fan of efficiency and convenience, why can’t I just tell these cops, in the comfort of your home, what happened?” she asked, her fingers gripping into my back like she too was already experiencing the separation anxiety I was.

“These cops are coming to arrest a bad guy, not take a domestic violence report from a nice girl,” I said, steering us out of the bedroom because I didn’t want anyone busting down my front doors. “We need empathetic, non-biased cops on our side here and I promise you the ones about to come through that door won’t be.”

She could hear the sirens now—her head whipped towards the door like she was ready for an invasion and tear gas. Ever so slightly, so much so I could barely detect it, she started to tremble.

“This is no time to lose your courage now, Em,” I said, squeezing her shoulders. “Be brave. I promised you everything will be all right and that’s a promise I made with no maybes, no conditions. That’s a promise I’ll go to my grave to keep.” I looked hard at her, kissing her lips for the last time in what would be a while. The cops were already power-walking up the driveway—three of them. “Okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered, bobbing her head.

“I love you, Emma Scarlett,” I said, pressing my forehead against hers. “You make me every shade of crazy, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m coming back for you, and I better find you waiting for me because I don’t care what, why, or who it is, I’m not letting you go without a fight.”

A rapping that thundered into the room and made both of us snap to attention, whipping our heads towards the door.

I slid her a reassuring smile before turning and walking towards the door, but she didn’t let me go alone. She wouldn’t let me face this without her at my side. She was just as much my protector as I was hers, and that made me feel every kind of good a man could feel.

Resting my hand on the handle, I exhaled. Sliding her hand over mine, she gave it a squeeze and helped me get this over with.

“Patrick Hayward?” the cop sporting a buzz cut, a mastiff sneer, and a pair of handcuffs boomed as soon as the door was open.

I nodded, spinning a one eighty, my hands crossing together over my back.

“You’re under arrest for the aggravated assault of Ty Steel. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney.”

I smirked at the floor—my attorney was going to kick their attorney’s ass.

And then I looked back up at Emma. At her anxious face, but still peaceful eyes. I was going to jail for a crime I didn’t commit for a woman I loved. And I’d do it all over again. And I’d never been so bloody happy in my life before.

As officer bull mastiff started pulling on my freshly handcuffed wrists, I slid a smile into position, and I’d bet my fortune my eyes even twinkled. “Don’t worry about me, Em. No bars can keep me caged.”

THE END