by Erin Rylie
“We’ve been playing phone tag?”
“Oh really, Carlos? Because I believe there have to be two participants for that game, and last I heard you were ignoring Captain’s calls, not returning them. I’m not going to lecture you or ask you what’s going on. You know that if you ever want to talk to me about anything, I’m here. I am going to tell you this though: our boss has been immeasurably patient with you. I know you were injured, but you should be doing deskwork by now at the very least. He has been holding your job for you with no communication at all. You need to talk to him and tell him what’s going on before something changes. I know how much your career means to you, Carlos. So pull your head out of your fucking ass.”
“See? You’re a grumpy asshole. Let’s just get this over with please. I have a feeling I’m in for an ass reaming.”
Rafe chuckled and got out of the car. “An ass reaming sounds like something you’d like.”
“I take you to a gay bar ONE time and you never let me live it down. They have fun karaoke, okay?”
They were still discussing the gay bar situation when they walked into the station. He trailed off mid-sentence when he saw his boss rushing out of his office. The man was storming through the bullpen and making his way straight for Carlos.
“RAMIREZ!” he barked, causing Carlos and damn near every officer around to jump. “Get your ass in my office now.”
“Hey, Cap! Did ya miss me?”
“I’m not fucking around with you today, Ramirez. You have five seconds to get into my office before I break your other femur.”
Carlos turned to Rafe and winked before saluting the captain and sauntering off. He kept an arrogant smirk on his face as he walked by his fellow officers, but internally he was shitting his pants. There was no way this conversation was going to end well for him. He could hear the captain stomping through the precinct behind him and turned around to face him when they reached the door to the office.
He half bowed and waved his boss in ahead of him dramatically. He may be injured, and may not feel entirely like himself at times, but he was determined not to show it today. Tonight, alone in bed, he could worry and wallow and let all of his greatest fears consume him. At the precinct though, he needed to be on his A-game.
He followed the captain in, planting himself in the chair in front of his large oak desk after closing the door behind him. Despite his nonchalant attitude most days, he respected the hell out of his boss, and he showed that by sitting up straight and giving the captain his full attention once they were both seated. The anger had faded from Captain Stevens’ face once they were both alone and Carlos could see the worry etched into his features.
“How ya doin’, son? I haven’t heard from you in a couple weeks.”
“I—” Carlos started to shrug the question off, but realized that he wanted to be completely honest with at least one person in his life. He was hiding his pain and anger from his friends, but his boss deserved honesty after everything he’d done for Carlos.
“I’m struggling, sir. My body just feels wrong; it feels foreign to me. I’ve worked hard my entire career to stay in shape and that hard work is slipping right through my fingers. My legs don’t work the way I need them to, no matter how hard I push, and I’m worried.”
“Look, I’ve seen enough of my men injured to know how tough it can be to get back out there. You’re a good cop, and I don’t want to lose you as a member of my team. So you need to talk to me. When I call you, answer your fucking phone and give me updates. I can only hold your job here if I know what the hell is going on.”
“I understand, sir. I appreciate what you’re doing for me, it means a lot.”
“Yeah, well, then prove it. Your new partner is out there. I want you to meet him today and try to get to know him over the next few weeks. Once you’re feeling up to it, I want you in here helping out with paperwork. Anything to get you back in the station.”
“I feel like a kid being scolded,” Carlos laughed.
“Well, if you don’t want me to treat you like one of my kids, start acting like a fucking adult.”
Carlos couldn’t contain his smirk. “Noted.”
After a few more minutes discussing the logistics of Carlos coming back in a couple of weeks to do some light deskwork, he got up and left his captain’s office, heading back into roll call. He spotted Rafe at his desk, talking quietly to a monstrously tall motherfucker with a man bun. Seriously, who the hell wore man buns these days?
Adopting his practiced swagger, he made his way over to Rafe. “You know, if Sophie ever needs help putting her hair in a stylish updo, I think man-bun here can help her out. She should put him on speed dial.”
He saw man-bun’s shoulders stiffen before he turned around. Shit, this dude was almost frightening. Carlos wasn’t a small man, coming in at over six feet tall with some pretty well-defined muscles on his body. This guy made him look tiny, though. The asshole had to be at least six foot five and just looked like a mean motherfucker. He had a full, bushy beard—black to match his hair. The scowl he wore might make most men cower, but Carlos was not most men.
“Seriously, bro, do you use bobby pins in that thing? You could be in L’Oreal commercials.”
Man-bun’s green eyes bored into Carlos, and he still didn’t say a word. He did, however, crook an eyebrow before breaking Carlos’s gaze and looking to Rafe.
His best friend was looking between the two with a wide smile on his face. “Oh, this is going to be fun. Reese Petrov, meet your new partner, Carlos Ramirez. Before you ask, yes he is always this talkative and annoying.”
“Well, at least I’ll still be the most attractive bastard in the patrol car,” Carlos said, making a show of looking Reese over again. “You look like you dismember lions in your spare time, dude.”
Reese shrugged. “Nah, but I have been known to dismember the occasional scrawny, mouthy motherfucker.”
“Excuse you, did you just call me scrawny? Rafe, are you hearing this? I have muscles for days, bro. My fucking muscles have muscles.” Carlos flexed dramatically, doing his best to pose like a bodybuilder without fucking up his leg.
“I’m pretty sure my dick is thicker than your biceps.”
Carlos felt his eyes widen and couldn’t help himself. He glanced down at Reese’s pants then back to his own bicep. “How is that even physically possible? Do you use that thing instead of your fucking nightstick to subdue criminals?”
His new partner smirked. “Definitely not, don’t want to scare anyone or take an eye out.”
Carlos looked over at Rafe and found his best friend leaning on his desk, trying to stifle laughter. “Rafe, don’t leave me with this guy, he’s mean.”
“Hey, maybe Petrov can finally whip you into shape. He might even be able to teach you how to pull your gun out of its holster without it getting stuck.”
Still smirking, Reese chuckled before replying, his deep voice rasping over the words. “My five-year-old niece can pull her toy gun out of a holster with no issues. Maybe she can come up here and teach you.”
“It was one time! One fucking time! I know how to pull my gun on someone. In fact, let’s step outside and I’ll show you what I know.”
Ignoring him completely, Reese looked over at Rafe. “Is he always like this? He reminds me of chihuahuas—always yapping and clamoring for attention.”
“Chihuahua? I’m a Rottweiler, thank you very much. I’m fucking fierce and tough. I’ll bite your arm off. Although, I do like Taco Bell…”
Rafe cut in before Reese could respond, “Okay guys, let’s break it up. I feel like this could go on for hours and I’m hungry.”
Carlos snapped his teeth in Reese’s direction and turned to walk out of the station. His hip was killing him after physical therapy, so he leaned more heavily on his cane than he would’ve liked, but he imagined it was still a pretty dramatic exit.
Lunch had been all right once Reese and Carlos had stopped making fun of each other and had actually go
tten to know one another. It turned out his new partner had moved to Houston from Dallas recently. He’d been on the force there for seven years and was apparently a pretty decent cop. Carlos still wasn’t sure how he felt about Rafe leaving him—they’d been partners since the police academy—but he was happy for his friend.
He had agreed to come into the station again next week to meet with Reese and discuss their partnership before coming back to work full-time the following week. Although he would be working daily, the captain wanted him to work shorter shifts, and he wouldn’t be going out on patrol until he could completely walk without his cane. He knew that deskwork would be monotonous and boring as hell, but it would be nice to get out of the house five days a week instead of sitting around like a potato.
Though he felt better about his position at the station, he couldn’t seem to keep himself from turning to pills in the late hours of the night when he was alone. The demons chasing him never seemed to relent, and in the dark places of his mind, his worst fears plagued him. The words his mother had beaten into him all his life whispered through his mind. Her voice told him that he was useless, that he would never amount to anything. No matter how well his physical therapy went, or how far he was able to walk without the aid of his cane, he couldn’t keep his thoughts from turning negative when he got into bed alone each night.
He’d tried fighting off his worries and fears, but they were unshakable. He would sit at the foot of his bed, his head clutched in his hands for hours, before finally giving in to the blissful oblivion his pills were able to offer. He’d told his doctor that his pain level was higher than it was in order to get additional refills on his prescription, and he’d stopped taking the pills during the day so that he would be able to take more at night. During the day he could manage the pain in his hip, and being around Kelsey helped keep his demons at bay.
Kelsey and James were the only bright lights in his life. Kelsey was still avoiding him for the most part, but recently James had wanted to watch movies after dinner with Carlos and Kelsey on either side of him. When Kelsey tried to get out of it, James would wrap his little hand around hers and drag her to the couch, instructing her to sit with him and Carlos.
They’d even developed a little routine: Kelsey would make the popcorn, and Carlos would make them all hot chocolate. Kelsey kept the sugar-free version of the sweet drink in her pantry to keep James from getting too wired for bed. Since she didn’t like marshmallows and Carlos did, he would make her cup of hot chocolate, pack it to the brim with marshmallows, and Kelsey would hold her cup out to Carlos so that he could eat them for her. Sure, he could just make her hot chocolate without marshmallows, but he took comfort in the knowledge that she hadn’t asked him to yet. She wanted to spend time with him too, he just knew it.
If the days following Carlos’s visit to the station were made into a cheesy movie montage, it would be set to the song “Got My Mind Set On You” by George Harrison. Carlos did everything he could to get Kelsey to spend time alone with him during the day. James had begun a toddler version of preschool and attended on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. As soon as Kelsey dropped her son off at the school, she disappeared into the dining room she’d converted into an office, presumably to work. Carlos didn’t doubt that she was getting work done during that time, but he also had the sneaking suspicion that she was using her office to avoid him. On the days that James was home, she used him as a little toddler shield, finding excuses to get the two of them out of the house. Over the last week, they’d gone to the zoo four times. At this rate, poor James would be sick of giraffes, his favorite animal, by the end of the month.
In an effort to draw her out of her hiding place, he’d resorted to ridiculous tactics—his forte. First, he’d played music from the soundtrack of The Greatest Showman loudly and on repeat throughout the house. When that hadn’t worked, he had begun to sing along at the top of his lungs. She’d come out of her office only to hand him a set of wireless headphones, a slightly terrifying glare on her face.
His next adventure had been a bit more daring. He knew that Kelsey had an addiction to bacon and decided to tempt her with the delicious treat. While cooking bacon in and of itself wasn’t particularly dangerous, cooking it naked as Carlos had done posed some serious problems. The last thing he wanted was hot grease anywhere near his dick, and it seemed like it would be unavoidable. Fortunately for Carlos (and Kelsey, really) he’d managed to find a mesh grease trap to place over the pan while he was cooking.
This time, Kelsey had come out of her office, snatched some bacon off of the plate and left the kitchen without so much as a glance at Carlos. How she’d resisted his insanely sexy body was beyond him, and he was insulted. Sure, he hadn’t been hard (who would be when bacon grease was threatening to burn holes in your dick?), but he was still impressive! He was proudly both a grower and a show-er.
In between his bids for Kelsey’s attention, he had also taken on a fair amount of the housework. She had her hands full with James and work, and the last thing Carlos wanted was to be a burden on her. He’d been a mess his first few weeks at her house and he hoped that he could make up for that behavior now. He did all of James’s laundry, washed the dishes, and cleaned the public areas. Usually by the end of all of his self-imposed chores he was limping heavily and needed to sit down, but it was worth it to see the look of relief on Kelsey’s face when she walked out of her office to a clean house.
After three days of ridiculous shenanigans with no response from her, however, he knew he needed to do something big. Something that required Rafe’s help. Hopefully his best friend was feeling particularly helpful today.
Carlos: Rafeeyyyy-poooo!
Rafe: What did I say about calling me that?
Carlos: As I remember it, you told me it was your new favorite nickname and I should use it daily. Or would you rather I go back to Officer Pencil Dick?
Rafe: Hey, it’s DETECTIVE Pencil Dick now, thank you very much.
Carlos: Riiiiight. Because putting Detective in front of the insult makes it less offensive.
Rafe: Is there a reason you’re annoying me right now?
Carlos: Actually, yes.
Carlos: I need a teeny tiny favor…
Rafe: I already don’t like the sound of this.
Carlos: Really, it’s no big deal. I just need you to break into your wife’s phone and get me Kelsey’s email address.
Rafe: No.
Carlos: But I’m your best friend!
Rafe: Debatable. A best friend wouldn’t ask me to invade my wife’s privacy.
Carlos: Awww come on Rafey-poo! You two are married, so really the information on her phone is half yours anyway. Shared intellectual property and all that.
Rafe: Still no.
Carlos: Are you sure?
Rafe: A thousand percent sure.
Carlos: All right, I didn’t want to resort to this, but you leave me no choice.
Rafe: What? What are you talking about? YOU HAVE A CHOICE, CARLOS.
Carlos: Nope, you forced my hand. Trust me, you’re really going to want to break into your wife’s phone now.
Rafe: Why? What did you do??
Carlos: Nothing major, just sent her a picture of my cock.
Rafe: YOU DID WHAT?
Carlos: Imagine what will happen when she sees it? Do you think she’ll immediately leave you for me? Maybe she’ll just save the image for her spank bank. I have a pretty spectacular cock if I do say so myself.
Rafe: I will kill you.
Carlos: GASP! You are an officer of the law, Raphael Pierce. I could have you arrested for the threat alone.
Carlos: Besides, it’s already done. You can fix it though; all you have to do is break into her phone and send me that email address.
Rafe: Or I could break into the phone, delete the picture, and tell you to fuck off.
Carlos: You could, but I’ll just keep sending cock pictures. Maybe next time I send one you won’t be home to intercept it.
; Rafe: I hate you so much right now. Let me find her fucking phone.
Rafe: Are you fucking kidding me, Carlos? This is a picture of a ROOSTER. A TOY ROOSTER.
Carlos: Yeah, that’s my cock. Duh.
Rafe: Remind me why I’m friends with you again?
Carlos: My charming personality? My dazzling good looks? My incredible wit?
Carlos: Oh, oh! My magnificent singing voice?
Carlos: Rock-hard abs?
Rafe: How do you walk around on a bum leg with an ego that big?
Carlos: Woooow low blow, man. I have badge bunnies to carry my ego. Of course.
Rafe: STOP SENDING ROOSTER PICTURES! I’m looking for the email address now.
Carlos: Move faster, my cock and I are getting impatient.
