Maybe Swearing Will Help (SWAT Generation 2.0 3) - Page 30

We were about two minutes away, and I could see the sign, when Ford finally perked up.

“What are you doing?” he asked, trying not to sound hopeful.

I flicked on my blinker and pulled into the parking lot that housed the new Ramen shop that he’d wanted to go to.

When next I looked over, Ford was practically dancing in his seat.

“Jesus, you’re so embarrassing,” I said as I parked.

When I rounded the car, Ford was there, practically picking me up and jumping with me.

I never knew what it was about the Japanese cuisine that had him so enthralled, but Jesus Christ, the man was obsessed.

I was willing to humor him, too, which made me his victim more than most.

“You’re giving me shaken baby syndrome,” I said when he shook me too long.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, placing me down on my feet. “But God, I really wanted to try here. I’ll never touch you again. I promise.”

And all the wind in my sails was suddenly gone.

In its place was a saggy pile of useless shit.

Sadly, he kept to his promise.

And when he finally dropped me off at home and went to his, there was not a single touch to be had.

Balls.Chapter 11

If history repeats itself, I’m so getting a dinosaur.

-Ashe to Ford

Ford

Six weeks later

“All units be advised,” the disembodied voice of Royal, the dispatcher working today, said. “I have a report of a 2930 at 1254 Hillside Lane. The victim called and said that his neighbor shot him in the nose. He’s returned to his residence, but the shooting happened at 1244 Hillside Lane.”

I looked at where I was located and knew it would take me at least ten minutes to get there.

“Unit 5353 responding.”

The husky female voice had fucking terror sliding through my veins.

Ashe.

Ashe. Officer 5353. Unit 5353. Responding.

Son of a bitch.

Today was her first official day of ‘work’ not on probation. She’d spent the week going to classes and was at the bottom half of working Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, twelve-hour days.

It was her sixth hour into her third twelve-hour day, and I knew that she was tired.

Just by seeing her this morning, I knew that she was exhausted.

I wasn’t sure that she was going to be able to keep it up, to be honest.

And then now she’s responding to an active shooter situation?

I didn’t like the feeling that was pouring through my chest at all.

Not one fucking bit.

Putting my foot down on the accelerator and using my lights and siren, I made it to the house five long minutes after Ashe arrived.

Heart pounding in my chest, and an uncomfortable feeling rocketing through me at just how worried I really was, I made my way down the driveway and took in the scene.

Ashe was standing at the corner of the grass, her eyes on a couple of teens who were trying to talk over each other as they explained what had happened.

“What’s going on?” I asked as I came up beside them.

Ashe turned to me and looked as if she was about to kill the two kids.

“I think we can allow the medics on scene,” she said softly. “It’s just these two kids right here. They’re likely going to laugh when they find out what happened.”

I frowned, my eyes going to the two teens. One teen, in particular, had a red welt on the end of his nose.

And that’s when it hit me.

“Yeah,” she said. “You’re getting it now. This one” —she pointed at the no-welt kid— “shot this one in the nose with a BB gun.”

She moved her arm to the kid with the red dot on his nose, then re-crossed her arms.

“From what I can understand, they thought it was real. Both started freaking out. 911 was called, and here we are,” she continued.

My heart, still pounding too hard in my chest, was making me sick.

I looked at the two teens, then reached for the mic at my shoulder.

“Yeah, you can call the medics in. Scene’s secure,” I said into the mic.

“10-4,” Royal replied over the air.

Moments later, the medics were rolling up, as well as the fire engine and two more police cars.

It was only found out moments later, as the kid with the welt was getting checked out, that the one kid had indeed thought the gun was real. And he was actually trying to shoot him in the face.

Once we found out, the kid tried to run.

At some point, after getting all the information out of the kid with the welt, kid two was told to sit down and sit still.

Only, when I went to find him again, he was gone.

When next I looked up, it was to see a black truck barreling down on us.

I moved just in time to watch the truck whizz past me and slam so hard into Ashe’s police cruiser that the horn started to blow.

Tags: Lani Lynn Vale SWAT Generation 2.0 Romance
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