by Forgy, M. N.
He refused.
When he left here, he got with another motorcycle club and was happy there. He told me my club was savage and didn’t know the meaning of brotherhood. I may have reacted harshly. Bullets went flying, and I ended up killing one of their members. He disrespected me and my colors.
In return, my brother Lip went nuts, shooting me to the point I nearly died. If it weren’t for Felix and Machete getting me out of there, I would have. I know where I stand with Lip now—six feet under. Fuck him.
If I see him again, I’ll be emptying my clip in him.
If my altercation with my brother taught me anything, it proved as clear as day that I am sinner, and that family, trust, and love are something I will never be capable of or deserve. I’m a killer.
I stand, inhaling deeply. “You’re an outlaw. Fuck ‘em.”
Jillian
Sliding into the booth of The Big Blue, I grab a menu. It’s a little dive restaurant that the local law enforcement head to after their shifts to relax. The lighting is dim, the tables tall with high stools, and the food is decent. I’ve been coming here since I started at the academy, and my best friend Alessandra meets me here after our shifts. I met Alessandra at the academy. After graduation, she decided to go to the local police department, and I went to the sheriff’s.
“Hey, Jillian,” Alessandra huffs, sliding into the seat across from me.
“Hey,” I mutter, mulling over the idea of a shake or burger.
“Was your night as crazy as mine?” My eyes slip over the menu, deciding if I should divulge my run-in with the Sin City Outlaws. I wonder if she’s run into them yet.
She looks over the menu, her brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail, her matching brown eyes flicking back and forth over the menu, lips pursed in thought.
“I, um, I ran into the Sin City Outlaws,” I inform her, trying to muster a casual tone.
Her eyes widen and flick to mine in a blink of an eye.
“Shut up,” she whispers, lowering her menu.
“Have you not had a run-in with them?” I tilt my head to the side, lowering my menu, as well.
She shakes her head, her brows furrowing.
“No way. I was advised to let senior officers handle their calls, or to request a deputy on scene.”
“Huh,” I reply, biting in my inner cheek.
“What were they like?”
I twist my lips. “Dangerous. The president was…” I pause looking for the right word, “intense.”
“Hot? Was he hot? I’ve seen his mugshots, and he looks…” She fans herself. “Let’s just say I wouldn’t kick him out of bed.” My cheeks flush with her brashness.
“Um, yeah, he was okay,” I respond, my voice weak. “I mean, he’s attractive in that dangerous, arrogant kind of way. He wasn’t scared of me, that was for sure, and the way he looked at me…” Images of his dark eyes locked on me flash in my mind. “It was... different.”
“Whoa, maybe I should pull one over.”
I snap from my daze and shake my head.
“No, don’t. When I snapped out of my stupid lust phase, actually tried to do my job and arrest him, his gang was ready to take me down, Alessandra.”
“What’s it going to be, ladies?” Margie, the waitress, asks. She is short, and overweight, with cropped red curly hair. Her voice cracks when she talks, like she smokes three packs of cigarettes a day.
“I’ll take a shake,” I respond.
“Burger and fries,” Alessandra replies.
“You got it.” Margie gives a tight-lipped smile before walking away.
“You off tomorrow?”
“No, last day of field training, though.” I smile, ready to take the reins.
“That’s awesome. Hopefully, you won’t get stuck with a dope-headed partner like I did.” She rolls her eyes.
“I hope not, but if I do, I hope I get Chewie.” Chewie was in the academy with us. We call him that because when he was tazed in class, he fell to the ground and sounded like Chewbacca.
“Tomorrow night, we are totally celebrating!” Alessandra nearly jumps in her seat with excitement.
“Celebrate how?” I question cautiously. Alessandra and I grew up differently. She is more… open with her thoughts and body language than I am. She’s fun and perky, and often forgets she’s a police officer; because of that, others look at her differently. From what she’s told me, she was wild and always in trouble growing up, whereas I would be in my room, studying for tests. Her father was a police officer and died in the line of duty when she was eighteen. Alessandra said when her father died, she wanted to join the police force, make the streets safer in his memory. Everyone knows Alessandra because of who her father was, which I think might have helped her get the job.
“Oh, my stepmom’s cousin Bunky said there was this party at a buddy’s house. He said it was going to be a lot of fun, and invited me.”
I twist my mouth and raise a brow. “Bunky?” Sounds like he’s a good source, if we’re going by his name.
Alessandra giggles. “Yeah, well, he’s not the brightest. I’m not sure if it’s his real name or a nickname for something. He’s just a harmless country boy, though.”
“I don’t know, Alessandra, I don’t really do the party thing.” I scrunch my nose up and shake my head. I try to converse with others, but I get nervous and often stick to the corner of the room, silently wishing I never left the comforts of my home. Sitting at home watching TV, hitting up the gym, that’s where I like to spend my time off work. Come to think of it, I might have been to three parties my whole life. I wasn’t really invited to them over the years. Having a family in law enforcement takes you off the invite list real quick.
“Oh, come on, don’t be such a stick in the mud. Just because you’re a sheriff, it doesn’t mean you sold your soul and can never do anything fun.” Inhaling a large breath, my mouth dangles open to object. “Who knows, maybe we’ll find some hot guys to take us home.” A loud laugh escapes my mouth unexpectedly, stopping my train of thought on plan ‘Escape Alessandra’. She always resorts to the ‘let’s find you a man’ plan. I’m single, big deal. I get a whole bed to myself, and don’t have to worry about anyone eating my popcorn or drinking my wine. I can slingshot my bra across the room and leave my toothbrush all spitty on the counter without grossing anyone out. Sounds like a perfect one-person relationship to me.
“Jillian doesn’t need a man. She has me.” I roll my eyes and look over my shoulder, finding Deputy Orlando Needon. He’s tall, with short black hair and a medium build. Most girls go gaga over him; I’ve seen it at our department alone. He wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t think women should drop to his feet and worship him, and if the rules of our department didn’t state that no two deputies can be involved. He seems to think the rules don’t apply to us, though, ‘cause he’s always hitting on me.
“Um, last time I checked, you two can’t be involved. Not that Jillian even wants to,” Alessandra spits, rolling her eyes.
Orlando sits in a chair next to me uninvited, and his stare digs into the side of my head.
“That true, Jill?” I hate when he calls me that.
“Rules are rules.” I shrug. Truth is, he probably wouldn’t be bad, and breaking the rules would be an adrenaline rush, but I’m just not interested. There’s something about him that just rubs me wrong.
“Ah, I forget how innocent and law-abiding our newbie deputy is.” He pulls a piece of my hair from behind my ear, letting it fall against my cheek. His fingers linger along the shell of my ear. He’s talking down to me, acting as if I’m that kid in school whose parents won’t let her attend the party with the bad kids. I’m twenty-three, and I’m sick of being treated like that. Everyone is always assuming I am some goody-two-shoes. Having my stepfather as my boss doesn’t help. I inhale deeply and turn in my seat.
“Hey, Orlando,” I say sweetly, catching his attention. “Fuck off!” I bark, my face in resting bitch mode. His smirk falls into a grimac
e.
“Oooh!” Alessandra laughs.
“Burger, fries, and shake.” Margie places our food on the table, sounding bored. “Are you ordering?” She pins her eyes on Orlando.
“He was just leaving,” I speak for him.
“That’s how it’s going to be, huh?” Orlando’s eyebrows narrow in anger.
Ignoring him, I grab my shake, sipping the vanilla goodness.
“Whatever. I give you a week in this department,” he breathes, slapping the top of the table before getting up.
Looking up from my shake, I find Alessandra staring at me with proud eyes, a smile lifting the corner of her mouth.
“What?”
“You. I’ve known you for months and I’ve never heard you… be a bitch.” She starts laughing, making me laugh right along with her.
“I don’t know, he just…” I pause, trying to discover the reason why I acted the way I did. “I probably shouldn’t have been mean, but he just doesn’t get the hint I don’t want to fuck him.”
“I think he does now.” She nods, looking over my shoulder. I follow her gaze and see him whispering into another deputy sheriff’s ear, Sandra Collings.
“Good for her,” I whisper, turning back to my drink.
“You know, not all guys are like Deputy Quick Dick.”
I nearly spray milkshake out of my nose.
Sometimes I hate that she knows that story. Deputy Quick Dick was a deputy at the sheriff’s department when I was in college. I had seen him around quite a bit, and my father even had him at the house for dinner once. He was really good-looking, and constantly staring at me. He had dark hair that was cut short, a sharp jaw, and thick biceps. We flirted here and there in passing. One night, after a late night of studying at the college, my ride left early and my cellphone died. I started to walk home in the rain when Deputy Quick Dick was doing his usual routes. He found me and picked me up. He was a smooth-talker, and I was a starved eighteen-year-old ready to lose her V card. I ended up in the back of his cruiser and… it was terrible. He had me doggy-style–yeah, for my first time—and the only touching we had was his hips slamming into the back of me. It was quick, it hurt, and when he was finished I felt humiliated. I wasn’t sure what all the hype about sex was about, because I for one was in no hurry to do it again. I think he got transferred to a new department or something, because I didn’t see him again.
“Seriously, you don’t know what you’re missing.” She takes a big bite of her burger, and I shake my head. “Sex can be so great, especially when you get a guy with one of those dicks that are so big, they look Jurassic-size.”
My eyes bug out, and I choke on my creamy milkshake.
“Where do you come up with this stuff?” I laugh, slapping my chest to make the shake go down. I point at her. “You have some serious issues.”
She shrugs sweetly, and takes another bite of her burger.
“I’m not missing anything. I’m fine with my sex life. Besides…” I look over my shoulder at Orlando, who is grabbing onto another deputy’s backside. “I have a strong feeling he’s just another Deputy Quick Dick.”
Chapter 3
Jillian
“Deputy Adams!” is yelled from one of the offices down the hall, causing everyone in the squad room to turn their heads. I head into Lieutenant Oaks’s office and find him grimacing over some papers.
“Yes, sir?”
“Looks like you’ve completed your hours of field training.” He sets the papers down and frowns.
“I thought I had one more shift.”
“Apparently not. I just went over your hours and you’re all set.” His eyes slide from his desk to me. “You think you’re ready?” His tone sounds as if he’s not convinced, and I haven’t even replied. It’s the father in him; I can tell he’s worried for my safety by all the zig-zag lines stretched across his forehead.
“Yes, sir, I do.” I give a strong nod.
“I want Chewie to ride with you.” He looks down at his desk quickly.
“Why?” My mouth hangs open. He can’t be serious.
“Chewie just finished his hours as well, and I’m a little nervous for him to be out on his own. Just for a few days.”
He’s lying; he wants me to have a partner because he’s scared of me being out there on my own. He doesn’t think I’m ready. Exhaling slowly, I clasp my hands in front of me. I really didn’t want a damn partner, but if it gets me out on the road then whatever.
“Anything else, sir?”
“That’ll be all.”
Cursing under my breath, I head out the back of the building. I mean, if I had to have a partner I’m glad it was Chewie, but just the idea of having one is what makes me angry.
“Wait up!” Looking over my shoulder, I spot Chewie, also known as Deputy Silver. He’s of medium build, and his hair looks to be buzzed off.
“You wanna ride with me, you better keep up,” I advise, rounding my cruiser.
“You’re driving?” he questions. His tone is unbelieving, his green eyes squinting.
“Yes, I’m driving,” I respond, jerking the car door open.
Sliding into the car, I look at the MDT, the Mobile Data Terminal. It’s a computer in our car that relays messages from dispatch, and I can look into a person’s background history with law enforcement. I can also have real-time messages with other deputies on duty. It does everything, a lifesaver.
“Looks like there’s an alarm going off. Going to be a bit of a drive if we go around the strip. We should go right through it, we’ll get there quicker.”
“Let’s do it,” Chewie rasps, buckling his seat belt.
“5paul69, we’ll take the alarm on Prairie Drive.”
“5paul69, copy.”
Putting the car in reverse, we back out of the station and head toward the main strip.
“So, you always wanted to be a sheriff?” Chewie asks me.
I give a small laugh. “Yes. You?”
“No, I never really knew what I wanted to do. Bounced from job to job, looking for the right one.”
“You think this is the one?”
He tilts his head to the side and looks out the window. “I dunno, but I get a gun and that is definitely better than anything I’ve done before.” He laughs.
Heading down the strip, the traffic comes to a stop, letting pedestrians walk.
“You sure this way is quicker?”
“Oh, yeah. Going around would have added an hour.”
“Damn,” he whispers.
Tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, I skim the nearby businesses. I spot Sin Casino, and none other than Zeek himself is standing out front with some of his men. He laughs at one of his guys, his face giving off a youthful look that I doubt many would see under his tattoos and leather. His eyes catch mine before doing a double-take, his smile turning into a tight-lipped smirk as he squints. My stomach falls, and my hands grip the steering wheel. He lowers his head, his stare dropping from mine, but not for long. As if he can’t help but look back, his eyes find mine again and I feel like my heart stops beating.
“Go!” Shaking my head, I hit the accelerator a little too hard, making the tires screech as we’re thrust forward.
“Jesus!” Chewie curses, his hands clutching the dash.
“Sorry,” I whisper, my cheeks feeling warm.
“The Sin City Outlaws,” Chewie whispers.
“What? What are you talking about? Who are you talking to?” I ramble. After he doesn’t answer me, I look over at him, finding him smiling big.
“What?”
“Please, I saw you. Hell, everyone saw you.” He chuckles, shaking his head.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I inhale sharply, trying to get ahold of my racing heart.
“Yeah, okay, let’s play dumb,” he mutters. “You do know they’re criminals, right? Blood-spilling animals?”
I ignore him, looking at the GPS. “Looks like we’re about fifteen minutes away.”
&nbs
p; He sits back in his seat and drops it, and my fingers finally let up on the steering wheel.
Pulling up to the location, I spot a big three-story house with white pillars out front.
“5paul69, please move me to Prairie Drive.”
“Affirmative.”
Stepping out of the car, I draw my weapon. Walking up to the front of the house, I look at the door and windows and see nothing.
“Let’s head to the back,” I whisper. Chewie gives a nod and we start in that direction. A loud crash sounds from inside the house and I grip my weapon tightly.
“Oh, fuck, someone’s in there!” Chewie whispers loudly.
“Shh!”
Getting in stance, I slowly make my way around the corner and find the back door busted in, as if someone kicked it.
Taking a quick breath, I turn the corner and find someone dressed in black, complete with black ski mask, and bat in hand.
“Sheriff’s department, get on the ground!” I shout, my weapon aimed. The person slowly raises their arms, their back turned toward Chewie and me. Stepping forward, he gets his cuffs out but the person quickly turns, ramming the bat right into Chewie’s gut. He grunts loudly and falls to the ground as the person takes off up the stairs.
“5paul69, send backup. Deputy down!” I call in from the portable radio setting on my shoulder.
Jumping over Chewie, I race up the stairs. Just as I reach the top step, a man growls and a bat swings my way. I quickly duck and grab the end of the bat, slamming the end into his chest. He falls on his back and I tackle him, fishing out his wrists.
He tries to pull from me, so I dig my knee into his back.
“Stop resisting!” I order.
“Ouch, I have a bad back!” he cries. Finally getting one of his wrists, I pull my cuffs out of my belt and cuff him.
“Oh, good, you got him,” Chewie huffs, finally making it up the last few steps.
