Double Tap (Code 11-KPD SWAT 2)

Ace and Callum both hissed in a breath.

Callum was the one to snap, “What the fuck, Darby?”

He shrugged.

I let Darby’s arm go when Ace stepped forward, getting into Darby’s face.

“One more chance. That’s all you’ve got. One more chance. That’s why we moved here, asshole. Because you couldn’t handle yourself in Houston anymore. You and your fucking gang. Get the fuck over yourself. Either help us or get the fuck gone,” Ace growled, then he turned to me. “I’m sorry that he did that. It won’t be happening again, I guarantee it.”

I nodded.

I believed him.

I didn’t plan on letting it happen again, either.

Plan being the operative word. I’m sure he’d try to make it happen, but it sounded like Darby was a repeat offender, and it usually took an act of God to get them to see their wrongs.

An act Darby had yet to see.

“Banks is going to kick your ass when he gets home,” Callum said as Ace and I walked to the truck together.

Ace snorted, and I silently agreed.

Banks was currently deployed overseas. He was in the Air Force serving the second month of a twelve month deployment, according to Georgia.

He probably wouldn’t be too happy returning home to his brother acting a fool.

“So, it’s good that you saved me the trip,” Ace started.

I suppressed a smile. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “If you hurt her, I’ll fuck you up. This isn’t me threatening an officer. This is my promise to you as a man. Georgia’s our world. If you do anything to hurt her, I’ll make it my life’s mission to make sure I do everything in my power to ruin your life.”

I looked at him, studying his features for a few long moments, and nodded. “I understand.”

He exhaled in relief. “You know if you sleep with her, you better marry her, right?”

I frowned even though I was amused.

He scowled. “She’s a devout catholic. She won’t even let us eat meat on Friday and makes us participate in lent even though I haven’t been inside a church in eight years. I’ll let you connect the rest of the dots.”

It wasn’t until I was driving down the road towards my house that I realize what he’d meant.

Birth control.

Shit!Chapter 11Always keep your chin up. Otherwise you’re just looking down at your own boobs all day.

-T-shirt

Georgia

“I can’t feel my feet,” I sighed as I collapsed onto my bed.

My cat meowed at me, butting her head into my nose.

“Get off me. I’m trying to recover,” I said breathlessly.

Another run down the hatch.

And I was exhausted.

Nico was a slave driver, waking me up at oh-dark-thirty so we could have our daily run.

He’d run the two miles to my house, pick me up, run the other one mile to the end of the road with me, and then we’d run back. After he dropped me off at my door, he’d finish his other two miles back to his own place where he then proceeded to lift weights, or do something at his house for the next hour before he was expected at work.

Today, though, he’d walked home once he’d dropped me off at my door.

He was still somewhat recovering from his upper respiratory infection, and it showed in the pace he ran at.

I, for once, was able to keep up with him.

I’d nearly died doing it, but I’d kept up nonetheless.

My phone rang, and I rolled over to glare at the bastard.

It was all the way across the room, and I wasn’t sure if my legs would hold me.

So what did I do?

I crawled.

Rolling onto my hands and knees, I moved painfully to the table and snatched the phone. I answered it just in time.

“Hello?” I answered.

I rested my head on the chair beside the table, eyes closed as I listened to the deep cadence of Nico’s voice say, “I need a ride.”

“I can’t walk,” I explained.

He snorted. “They need my cruiser because one of theirs broke down. I need to take it in, and they can’t come get it or they’ll be short on patrol. Would you mind meeting me at the station in fifteen minutes?”

I sighed. “But I smell.”

He laughed. “I’ll take you home and get you clean. No worries.”

“That means nothing to me. Chocolate means more to me right now,” I informed him.

He chuckled quietly.

“I’ll see you in fifteen minutes. I’ll stop by the new bakery and buy you some cookies,” he bargained.

“Make it a burger and then the bakery, and you have a deal,” I retorted.

“They don’t serve burgers until ten. It’s a quarter until eight,” he laughed. “I’ll see you in fifteen. I’ll find you a burger.”

With that he hung up, and I walked to my car with noodle legs.***I pulled into the police station just as what I’d come to think of as Nico’s cruiser pulled out. A young man at the wheel.

It looked weird to see the man that was supposed to be in it not in it, but I shrugged off the bad feeling and waited for the man I now saw in front of the station talking to two men I didn’t know.

One was a tall man that reminded me of Richard Geer in his younger years. He had nearly white hair with a few stray hairs of gray interspersed throughout the white.

His eyes were the color of mud, but they were extremely animated, and curious as he caught site of me.

The other man was dressed in black slacks and a royal blue shirt. His arms were crossed tightly across his barrel chest, and although short, his personality was huge.

His stare intimidated me. I knew he was a cop without even being told. I’d found that cops had a certain ‘air’ about them. You could definitely see the integrity on the way they carried themselves. The way they held themselves in higher regard to society. They’d give you the shirt off their back if they felt a person was in need of it.

They also saw things that normal civilians did not. Could sense danger.

They were also very curious, because much the same as the other man, I could see interest in the older man’s eyes.