Lucky Strike Page 7

  Brian turns around and we’re now face to face. “Good morning, would you like some coffee?” he asks holding up an empty coffee mug.

  “Yes please.” I grin politely, sliding into one of the bar stools at the kitchen island. He pours us both a cup and pushes a mug and some creamer over to me.

  “So, I know you went through a lot yesterday and all I’m going to say is this… I’m really glad you’re home.” He warmly smiles, then takes a sip of his coffee.

  “Thank you. I’m happy to be home.” I return his smile. Out of all my friends, Brian is the only one that knows when not to push me, especially when it comes to the emotional stuff.

  “So, you’re a brunette now I see.”

  I run my fingers through my hair remembering the night in Mexico when I couldn’t sleep and got it in my head that maybe if I changed my hair color, the nightmares would stop like somehow a new hair color would make the ghosts of my past disappear. Boy was I wrong, but I ended up liking the change so much I kept it.

  “Thanks. So I hear your wife really loves your dick.” I giggle from behind my coffee cup. I can’t help myself sometimes. But he should have seen it coming with how fucking loud they were this morning.

  Without missing a beat, Brian replies, “What can I say my woman loves my big gun.”

  “So how do you two fuck when she’s sporting a full preggo belly? Is it like a teeter totter?”

  “Ha! Where there’s a will there’s a way, and Brooke loves to be tied to the bed and fucked from behind when she’s pregnant.” He slyly grins.

  “Damn, Brooke is a naughty little thing.” God this feels so good to just laugh and bust Brian’s balls again. It feels like old times again. “Thanks for this. I’ve really needed a good laugh. I should also thank you for helping Ryder track me down. I know you could have gotten fired for doing that.”

  “It was worth the risk to get you home.” He softly smiles.

  “How bad a shape was he in? He told me about getting arrested and being taken off active duty, but how dark did he go?”

  Ryder almost lost the job he loved because of what I did. I can’t even imagine how bad he really got. As much as it pains me to know the pain I caused him, I need to hear it.

  “It got bad there for a while. If he wasn’t working, he was down at the bar drowning himself in booze and sleeping with anything with tits. He was trying to drown the pain of losing you any way he could. He’s not himself when you aren’t around and I know neither are you. You two are intertwined into each other’s souls, and when one of you is missing you both start to die.”

  Damn Brian can be one insightful son of a bitch when he wants to be. He’s exactly right. I noticed it in San Francisco, after about six months of being away, and I didn’t feel like myself. I felt this huge void and that’s when I tried to fill it with Jackson. While in Mexico, I felt like I was dying. Ryder is the missing piece of my soul. That day on the playground when I slapped his face, we were forever linked together.

  I feel Ryder’s hand slide down my back and hear him say good morning to Brian. Brian turns back to the coffee pot to pour a cup for Ryder but stops when something outside catches his eye.

  “God damn it, Ryder!” Brian shouts. “Get your damn dog off Lola.”

  Ryder walks over to the kitchen window, fighting back a laugh. “That’s the most action your dog has ever seen, let the girl enjoy it.”

  Brian grabs Ryder by his shirt and gets right up in his face. “I swear to God if Spike knocks up my fucking dog, I’m going to rip your balls off.”

  “Spike, get off of Lola. Daddy would like to keep his balls.” Ryder bolts for the back door with Brian hot on his heels.

  “What’s going on?” I hear Brooke coming up behind me.

  “The boys are trying to keep Lola from getting some.”

  “Fucking Spike, he’s the sweetest dog but he’s a horny fucker.” She giggles.

  “He’s the dog version of Ryder.” We both laugh. Brooke grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and joins me at the kitchen island.

  “So are you ready to go see Lucy?”

  “No, but I know I can’t keep putting it off.” Facing Brooke was hard but having to face Lucy, who’s been like a sister to me since we were kids, is going to be even tougher.

  “She’s been hurting and she’s pissed, so this isn’t going to be easy, but I’ll be there with you. She can’t kill you with a pregnant witness in tow.”

  “I have to face the firing squad and deal with whatever happens even if it means losing Lucy.”

  Brooke runs a comforting hand along my back. I swear this woman has magic powers because I already feel more relaxed.

  “Thank you for letting me sob like a giant baby last night. I think the past week finally caught up with me,” I say before taking a sip of my coffee.

  “Everyone needs a good ugly cry from time to time. After the roller coaster ride you’ve been on, you needed it. Now how about I make us some banana bacon pancakes for breakfast.” She grins sliding down off her stool.

  “You had me at bacon.”

  After my shower, Brooke and I loaded Ella up in her stroller and made our down the street to Lucy’s house. I wanted to put this off for as long as I possibly could, but I know it would only make it even harder to face her.

  The closer we get to Lucy’s house I can feel my palms beginning to sweat. My stomach feeling like it’s trying to turn itself inside out and my heart feels like it’s permanently lodged in my throat. My runner instincts are on overdrive. I grab Brooke’s arm, holding it tight as we step up to the front door. Brooke rings the door bell and the wait is fucking agony.

  When the door finally opens we are met by Bailey, Lucy’s now eight-year-old daughter. I almost don’t even recognize her. She’s the spitting image of her father, Colton. Big brown eyes and even bigger dimples. Her eyes light up when she sees us.

  “Auntie Lucky,” she squeals, lunging for me wrapping her little arms around my waist. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Hi Bailey, I’ve missed you too, kiddo.” I lean down and kiss the top of her head. “Is your mommy home?”

  “She is. Come inside, I know she’ll be happy to see you.”

  I doubt that. Obviously Lucy didn’t really tell her that I ran away from home.

  We follow Bailey inside and through the house to the family room, where Lucy is sitting on her couch reading through order forms. Her chocolate locks are gathered up on top of her head in a messy bun. Her brown eyes squinting as she tries to read the small print. I see she still hasn’t gotten those glasses I keep telling her she needs.

  “Mommy, look who's here,” Bailey announces.

  Lucy looks up from her paperwork, her soft expression turning hard when she sees me. I can hear the word run repeating over and over in my head.

  “Hey Bailey, why don’t you show Ella and me some of your toys up in your room, so your mommy and Lucky can talk.” Brooke takes Ella and Bailey upstairs.

  Lucy turns off the television and sets her paperwork down on the coffee table. Her silence feels worse than anything she could possibly say right now.

  “Lucy, I—” Before I can say another word, Lucy interrupts me.

  “I don’t really want to hear what your excuses are, Lucky. I’ve heard them all before and I’m done. I would think that after all these years, after everything we’ve been through that I would have at least garnered more than a fucking text message telling me you were leaving. No reason why, just I’m out.”

  Her words are like a punch to the fucking gut. But I deserve it. I deserve every punch she has to offer. I’ve been a horrible friend to her and there’s nothing I can do to take it back. All I can do is show her I’m not ready to give up on us.

  “Lucy, I’m sorry. I was being completely selfish when I left the way I did. And I know no matter what I say it still doesn’t change the fact that I threw everyone that matters to me the most in this world away.” I can feel the tears beginning to well up in my e
yes.

  “At least, you can see how selfish you are. You always have been. You never once think of how the people around you are going to cope when you pull this shit. I can’t keep doing this with you, Lucky. I can’t keep setting myself up just to get hurt again.”

  “Lucy, please just let me prove to you that I’m changing. The old me never would have shown up at your door after what I did, she would’ve kept running for the ends of the earth and never came back, just so she could avoid having to look you and Ryder and Brian and Brooke in the face again. But I didn’t do that, I’m here facing my mistakes head on. I’m sorry for abandoning you. Please believe me when I say that I love you and I want to work this out. I miss you.”

  The tears are now flowing down both our faces. I can see Lucy is fighting with herself. I know part of her wants to kick my ass while the other wants to hug me. Either way, I’ll, at least, get some form of attention from her.

  Lucy stands up from the couch and runs over to me, pulling me in for a hug. I breathe a sigh of relief and wrap my arms around her.

  “I’ve missed you so much, Lucky,” she murmurs. “Don’t ever run again, do you hear me?”

  “Never again. I promise.”

  Three hours down in the hell otherwise known as the gun cage. Eight hours of nothing but cleaning guns, repairing guns and loading clips. I don’t know how anyone can stand working down here for months at a time, I’ve barely survived the boredom of three hours. I guess I’ll be finding out, assuming I don’t use one of these guns on myself in the meantime.

  I pick up the M4 rifle I’ve been cleaning and repairing for the past hour and a half to check the scope. The sight comes into focus just as another officer walks through the back door. Must be Edwards, the new transfer from the Twelfth Precinct, the captain told me about this morning.

  “Good morning, Officer Dylan Edwards reporting for duty.” He extends out his hand to me. I can hear a faint Boston accent as he speaks.

  “Nice to meet you, Edwards. I’m Officer Callahan, Ryder Callahan.”

  I stand up from my chair, wiping the grease from my hand before reaching out for his. As I shake his hand, I notice his eyes widening and his mouth dropping open. He studies me up and down.

  “You’re the Officer Callahan? You and your partner Gamble are legends down at the Twelfth.”

  “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Legends, that’s a new one. Can’t wait to tell Brian about this, he’ll get a kick out of our dumbasses being considered ‘legends.’

  “That one time you two rescued that little girl during that bank robbery…” Edwards has this excited glint in his eyes like he’s meeting a celebrity or something. Which neither Brian nor I are. We were just doing our job.

  “We were just doing what we had to do to keep that kid safe,” I reply.

  “Yeah, but you could have left it to SWAT to go into that bank. So what’s a legend like you doing working in the cage?” he asks taking a seat at the work bench across from me.

  “Guess you didn’t hear the tale of me getting drunk off my ass and stealing a cop car,” I reply setting the rifle I just finished repairing back into the gun case.

  Edwards throws his head back laughing so hard he almost falls off his stool.

  “I was going through some pretty tough shit at the time, I’m just lucky I didn’t get thrown off the force. So I’m guessing you must have fucked up royally at the Twelfth if you got stuck on cage duty during your first month here.”

  “I’ve built the reputation of being a bit of a hot head which is why I was transferred here. The captain thought Sergeant Peterson could be a better influence on me.”

  “Oh, you really must’ve done some stupid shit to get on his service. They call him the SWAT Nazi around here. I heard he once threw one of his own guys out of a window. You poor son of a bitch.” I can’t even hide my laughter at his poor luck. “Come on, I’ll show you around.” I lock up the gun cases then stash the keys in the lock box.

  “So have you always lived here in Seattle?” Edwards asks, following me out the door to the stairwell.

  “I grew up on Bainbridge Island. It’s about a thirty-minute ferry ride from here. Brian and I moved to the city to go to college at the University of Washington.” We step into the main precinct and the place is pretty quiet. The morning crews have left to patrol the morning commuters heading into the city. This place will be hopping by lunch. “So how long have you lived in Seattle?”

  “I moved here from Boston with my mom just after I turned sixteen. My dad and older brother were sent off to federal prison, so my mom packed us up and moved us here to give me a better life.”

  I’m taken aback by how forthcoming he is with his past. Not many people would share that kind of information with someone they just met. We walk into the breakroom and I ask if Edwards would like some coffee. He nods yes then takes a seat at one of the tables.

  “How did your pops end up in jail, if you don’t mind me asking?” I hand him his coffee then take a seat across from him at the table.

  “I don’t mind at all. I’m an open book. Besides, I believe my past is what makes me a better cop.” He takes a sip of his coffee then fills in the details about how his dad and his brothers robbed banks and armored trucks for a living. During a job gone wrong, his dad and brothers we taken down by the Boston PD.

  “After all of that, what made you want to be a cop?” I’m oddly curious. Most people that grow up with a past like Edwards usually wind up going down the same dark path.

  “We had a cop that lived next door to us. My dad and my brothers would regularly slash his tires and make death threats when he wouldn’t take their bribes to help them out if they were ever brought in. He never gave in. He stayed true to the code of being a cop. And I respected that because unlike the rest of my family I knew the difference between right and wrong. I never wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps. I want to help people and put people like my father and my brothers where they belong, behind bars.”

  It’s after six when I pull up to Brian’s house. After spending the day in the cage getting to know Edwards, I invited him over for a beer and to meet Brian and Brooke.

  Edwards follows me inside the house where we find Brian out on the back deck sipping a beer with his new partner, Hank Ross. I met Hank a couple of months ago after Brian was officially made detective. In the beginning, I wasn’t Hank’s biggest fan because he was taking my job of protecting Brian’s back. After getting to know him, I couldn’t have picked a better man to have my best friend’s back than Hank.

  “Are you girls done making out back here, ‘cause I’m ready to drink this shit can of a day away,” I announce, slumping down into one of the lounge chairs with a heavy thud.

  “Aww, did the monkey have a tough day at the zoo?” Hank laughs, handing me a beer.

  “Fuck you, man. I’d like to see you last a day down in that pit of hell.” I twist the cap off my beer and take a long slow swig.

  Oh yeah, that’s just what to doctor ordered.

  “Damn it, Ryder, did you bring home another stray?” Brian asks pointing over at Edwards.

  “Oh yeah, sorry. This is Dylan Edwards, he just transferred from the Twelfth. Dylan this Brian and Hank.”

  “Welcome to the Second, Dylan.” Hank reaches over shaking his hand. Brian follows suit then grabs Edwards a beer.

  “Dylan, by your accent I’m guessing you are originally from the Boston area.”

  “Yeah, how did you know?” he asks twisting the cap off his beer.

  “My wife, Brooke is from Charlestown, so the accent is familiar,” Brian replies.

  “No shit that’s where I grew up. What’s her last name?”

  “McCoy.”

  “Brookie McCoy is your wife? Talk about a small fucking world. You’re one lucky bastard to have locked her down,” Edwards says before taking a sip of his beer.

  Fucking small world indeed. Hank and I trade a shocked glance across the table, then look back to see B
rian’s expression harden. His mind probably wondering if Edwards nailed his wife. I’m wondering the same thing too.

  “Please don’t tell me you fucked my wife. It’s bad enough this asshole tried to nail her before I met her.” He points his thumb over at me.

  Edwards lets out a chuckle. “Oh God no. She was way out of my league back then. And I didn’t particularly want to get shot by her dad had I even tried to lay a finger on his daughter.”

  I can’t help but chuckle behind my beer. Having met Brooke’s dad, Matt, on serval occasions, I could see why Edwards was afraid of getting on his bad side. Matt could make a fucking rock nervous.

  Brian and Edwards continue talking, Brian getting more of the scoop on Edwards’ past in Boston. I lay back in my chair, taking a swig from my beer and wondering how Lucky is doing at Lucy’s. I knew this was going to be her toughest battle, but I take it as a good sign that Brooke and her are still over at Lucy’s.

  I glance over at Hank, who keeps nervously checking his phone. Hank is a single dad of a three-year-old daughter named Colby. Hank is a beast of a guy, tattooed and a wall of muscle. At first glance, you’d never guess he’s a big softy, who takes his kid to ballet classes and plays tea party. The dad thing is what bonded him and Brian in the beginning.

  “Hank, where’s Colby tonight?”

  “I just got a new live-in nanny and she’s watching her,” he says, checking his phone again. Poor bastard doesn’t get out enough.

  “How is Nora working out for you, Hank?” Brian winks over at Hank. Now I’m intrigued about this nanny.

  “We don’t need to talk about Nora. She’s my nanny and that is all these assholes need to know about her.” Hank tries to deflect Brian, but he’s still learning that when you tell Brian not to do something, he’s gonna do it.

  “So get this. After Hank’s seventy-year-old nanny quits, this celibate bastard in all his wisdom decides to hire a twenty-three-year-old fresh out of college beauty to move in with him to help take care of his daughter.”