“That’s a shame,” Mom whispers, but I think she can see that the conversation is getting to me.
“Can we talk about something else?”
“Of course,” Dad agrees. “Rick, let’s talk about those videos I saw on Tik Tak.”
Rick groans, and it’s my turn to laugh.
“It’s Tik Tok, Gramps. We’ve been over this.”
The spotlight stays on my son for the rest of the day, and when we finally leave because we’re doing the gutters today, I have a smile on my face. There’s still a chance I’ll skip next week’s family meal, but at least I got a little reprieve today.
“The gutters? Really, Dad?” Rick whines an hour later when I tell him to get the ladder out of the garage.
“I’ll get the highest parts,” I say, not flinching when he complains again. “But you’ll be in big trouble if I ever hear you say another derogatory word about any woman again. Shit like you said at dinner should never leave your mouth, not in front of me, your grandparents, or your friends. I raised you to have more respect than that.”
“She’s hot as fuck, Dad. People should know.”
“People know, Rick.” I grind my teeth together. “Everyone who looks at her knows, but being disrespectful isn’t going to cut it. Keep that shit to yourself.”
“Yes, sir,” he mutters before walking toward the garage.
My words from the other night slam into me like a tsunami.
I’m so hard for you. I want to spend hours stroking inside of you. I want your teeth marks in my shoulder from pushing into you just a little too deep. I’m always hard for you. Every day at the station. Every time I see you or you walk by.
God, I hope he turns into a better man than me.
Chapter 18
Sophia
“That’s all I have for now. Be safe.”
Patrol officers scatter after Monahan ends the beginning-of-shift briefing. Several hover near the coffee pot, waiting to fill up their travel mugs before hitting the streets, and I hang back in the corner of the room like I have been doing every morning for the last couple of weeks.
Ramshaw winks at me before leaving the room. Thankfully, he doesn’t ask me why I disappeared Friday evening. I was drunk before Cannon finally gave me a ride back to my house, and both Saturday and Sunday were spent with a hangover. Not my finest moment. Even Dad kept his distance, which was a blessing.
Since helping Colton clear his caseload, I’ve been asked to help a couple of the other detectives at the station, and I’m happy for the distraction. I’m not going out on calls, but paperwork is a never-ending thing for police. At least helping them type notes and submit reports keeps them on the streets and helping those that need them.
Colton was late once again this morning, sneaking into the briefing mere minutes before it was over. I try to keep my eyes on the folder in front of me, but my other senses track him across the room, picking up bits and pieces of conversation he’s having with Gaffey.
All too soon, he leaves the breakroom, and I’m left feeling equal parts relieved and saddened. We need to have a conversation about what happened Friday night, but I just don’t have the stomach for it today, or any day in the near future for that matter.
My work, the laundry list of things to get done handed to me by Chief Monahan this morning, ends too quickly. I don’t know if he’s only giving bits and pieces of the work to me to keep me from getting overwhelmed or he just doesn’t realize how efficient I’ve become with my tasks since starting my internship.
It’s not even noon and I’m done. To buy more time in my effort to avoid Colton, I head to the mailroom. I catch the woman who works in here leaving with a quick smile, and I want to hang my head in defeat. My intention to keep busy has been thwarted by her own efficiency. I grab Gaffey’s mail, as well as Colton’s and head out. Haden isn’t in his office when I drop his off, so I head back to the breakroom to sort through Colton’s. Strangely, detectives, as well as some patrol officers, get all sorts of weird mail, and I’ve wondered more than once if some people working here aren’t using the police station as their permanent address. I toss several clothing magazines in the trash before opening a simply addressed letter,