Lars and Tony were married with two young daughters. They were some of the friendliest and funniest guys I’d ever met, so someone targeting them pissed me off.
I couldn’t help the question that came out of me. “Because they’re gay?”
DB’s look answered it perfectly. Fucking assholes.
“We’ve assisted people in this way since the Department was first built here. It doesn’t matter if it’s a woman who feels threatened by a man or if someone’s being singled out because of color, religion, sexual preference, gender, anything at all. If we can keep them safe, we do it.”
Thank fuck for that.
Glancing at Alejandro, another one of the newer members, I saw him frowning and understood his confusion. This wasn’t run of the mill behavior or policy, but we were a small town that looked out for our people. “How does it work, though? Surely it wouldn’t be safe if someone told outsiders about it because then everyone would know about the room and where to get the person they were after.”
Nodding, DB shifted slightly to get more comfortable. “That’s a good question. It’s not a secret to the residents of Piersville that the room exists. Before now, we would pretend to arrest them, or they’d come in voluntarily, and they’d be locked in a cell. Now we have a room downstairs set up like a panic room. It was financed by someone who wants to remain anonymous, but it’s an important addition.”
Anonymous my ass. I’d bet anything it was Hurst Townsend who’d done it.
“That’s freaking cool,” Alejandro murmured.
“Safety for everyone is the priority as law enforcement officers. I have a zero-tolerance policy, and I expect you all to abide by it. Everyone is to be treated equally and fairly, and we protect people who can’t protect themselves.”
All of us murmured our agreement.
“Now, the next point,” he tapped a box under the table with his foot. “Over the last two years, the mayor has kindly changed our uniforms five times. This is apparently the last change.”
A round of groans met this news. I’d had two uniform changes since I’d joined, and I was over it.
Pulling the large box out, he opened it and pulled out black polo shirts with P.V.P.D. on the front and the sleeves.
“We’ve officially been registered as P.V.P.D. now, the V standing for Ville. You’ll wear these every day, but the most crucial change is your protective vests. The new ones have Piersville Police Department on the front and Police on the back. An anonymous donor also financed these after a meeting with the mayor.
“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but research has been done on our uniforms' impact on our ability to do our jobs. Previously, we’ve worn a range of it, and what was discovered to be the most user friendly is what we’ve got now.” He told us, looking behind us as the door opened and the new filing chick pushed in a large cart with wrapped black packages in it.
“This is Naomi,” he introduced.
“Fuck,” Carter hissed under his breath, sinking slightly in his seat.
“Naomi is going to be helping you with your sizes after I show you the way the new kit works. First of all, you’ll all be wearing black tactical pants. The knees have a coating at the back to prevent tearing and help protect your knees if you need to drop down for any reason. They have the usual utility pockets, but these are not to be used to put anything heavy or sharp in.”
That was a relief for me. I hated storing heavy shit in those. There was nothing quite like turning quickly and a bullet hitting your leg.
“Your vest has a large pocket on the chest and smaller ones here, here, and here,” he pointed to a vest he’d just picked up from the pile and showed us the pockets. “Your utility belt also has more storage on it, as you can see.” He held one up, and admittedly it looked pretty cool.
“On the vest, you’ve got a space here to attach your badge. I’d prefer that you didn’t attach it to your belt in case it delays you getting something that you need from the belt, like your taser or gun.”
We all nodded, understanding what he meant. In high-stress situations, you grabbed and things getting the way fucked it up.
“You also have thigh holsters. Many of you will be used to this from previous law or military involvement, but it’s new for us here, so I’m going to say it anyway. Having the thigh holster keeps your gun more secure, but also slightly lower down from the belt for the same reasons as I stated for not putting your badge on your belt.”
I also liked this. Coming out of the Air Force Ground Forces, thigh holsters were what I was used to.
“Any questions so far?”
We all shook our heads and waited for what was next.
“Naomi will be in the conference room next door after we’re done here. You can go in and tell her your sizes and try the vests on.”
Waving half-heartedly at us, she pushed the cart back to the door, freezing when Carter got up to help her. There was some sort of silent communication between them that involved blank faces and jaw grinding, and then he opened the door, and she left.
Juicy!
“I’m handing out a document which I want you to read and memorize, and next week we have a consultant coming in to discuss de-escalation techniques. I know you’ve all passed the academy and your courses, but we’re moving into a new age of policing, and this is important. Body language, how you stand, and psychology plays a large part in a situation either staying calm or going to shit, and it’s fucking crucial that we stop them doing the latter.
“There will be ones where it’s unavoidable, but there’s a large amount that should never get to where they do, and this technique could’ve prevented it,” he sighed, hanging his head to look at his feet. “Fucking kills me that we even need to point this shit out, but I want you guys to be the best you can be, and I want people to feel safe with us as their law enforcement.”
“I’ve trained on this before,” DB’s dad, Alex, said. “After the consultant’s done, I can always help if anyone has a problem.”
Looking relieved, DB nodded. “Thanks, that would be awesome. I need you guys to think hard when you go into a situation, okay? We’re responsible for human beings who are indispensable. The consultant who’s coming has been doing this for twenty years, and we’re lucky to have had him assigned to us, so pay attention.”
As we all agreed, he dismissed us to collect our new uniforms, leaving me thinking about where I was now.
I’d joined the Air Force to get through college because my parents couldn’t afford it, and they had Raoul and my sister, Catalina, to consider after me. As soon as I’d graduated, I was in the military and working my ass off.
People hear about the USAF and assume we’re either pilots or maintenance crew, but I went in to join the Ground Forces. At twenty-eight, I became a Captain, and it was one of the proudest moments of my life.
Three years later, I realized I was burnt out and needed a change.
Yes, I could blame it on the incident in Raqqa that’d ended up with me being burned from ass to chest on one side, but I’d known before then that I was reaching the end. I felt guilty for feeling that way, but Ground Forces were special operations and exhausting mentally and physically, and I’d reached my max.
I was thirty-one when I decided to leave as I was recovering from the burns, and at thirty-two, after months of sick leave and using up the vacation time I’d never used in years, I left the Air Force. I was lucky that DB had offered me a job here, and I loved it because it appealed to the military side of me but also allowed me to live a relatively civilian life.
Some people would probably say I had PTSD from what I’d gone through, but really, I didn’t. I’d just had burn out—no pun intended with the scars on my side.
I wanted to be part of my family again and to have time to myself. I wanted to not constantly be waiting for the next deployment because it’d happened so often, even if it wasn’t always into active areas.
I missed it like hell, the routine, organization,
the people, but I was relieved to be Garrett Evans again.
It wasn’t PTSD, it was exhaustion. That said, once military, always military. Part of me needed the way we’d done things in it, so I loved that we were getting these uniforms now and that there was more training being organized for us.
During my training for the Air Force, we’d had de-escalation techniques drummed into us as part of it. They were crucial and vital to almost every situation, even those you didn’t think would need it. It made sense that we would need slightly adapted ones for our police work.
Civilian life also meant I could finally have a personal life and a relationship.
I had so many friends in the USAF who lost their partners because of deployments and not being around. Absence makes the heart grow fonder isn’t always the mantra that people follow, and I wasn’t going to open myself up to that bullshit.
I’d always wanted someone to grow old with, have a family with, and build a life with, but it wasn’t fair on them or me if I wasn’t around to do it. Sure, it absolutely worked for many people, but everyone was different, and I knew it wouldn’t work for me.
The only woman in years who’d even piqued that interest in me was Zuri Hadid. I needed to move us out of the friends category before it was cemented and bronzed.
Obviously, pushing her onto a glass table wasn’t the way to do that, but maybe there was a way that would?
Realizing it was my turn to get my new uniform from Naomi, I smiled at her and told her my sizes while I went through a plan in my head for Zuri.
And then it went slightly to shit—literally, but I wouldn’t realize that last part for a couple of hours—when DB came in and scanned the room for me.
“Garrett, need a favor.”
Chapter Six
Zuri
“She’s an easy baby,” Tabby said as she dumped a massive bag on the floor. “I’m sure it’s nothing major with my Dad, but Jose and me want to go and help him out, and Dave’s stuck at work.”
Garrett was on his way home to help me out with my problem—babysitting. I loved kids, they were fantastic, but I couldn’t be in control of one on my own.
I didn’t know anything about them, for the love of all things sacred. Oh, and let's not forget my hand and back.
“No problem,” I replied half-heartedly, watching Sheena look around the room wide-eyed. “Is there anything she likes to do?”
“Cartoons, chew on things, crawl, pull stuff down she shouldn’t, bananas, fart…” Tabby trailed off and frowned down at her daughter. “I don’t even know if kids should do more than that at her age.”
The door opening distracted her, and she went back to the instructions.
“She drinks normal milk now, so she can have that. If you give her apple juice, make sure you water it down—it’s better for her teeth. She’ll nap in about an hour and then wake up hangry, so I’ve put her dinner in the fridge. Just pop it in the microwave and heat it up.”
That sounded totally doable. Milk, nap, eat.
“We’ve got this, Tabby,” Garrett assured her, closing the door behind him and waving at Sheena, who smiled brightly at him. “Jose is waiting outside for you.”
“Right, right,” she blustered as she moved around quickly. “If you need anything, call her damn dad.”
And with that, she was gone, leaving me with a miniature human being who was relying on me.
Dumping what looked like the contents of a department store that only sold black clothes on the dining table, Garrett walked over to her and squatted down.
“Hey, little one. Your daddy said some mean things about certain parts of my body and what he’d do to them if you came back with anything but smiles on your face. I kind of like the parts he said the mean things about, though, so let’s find out what makes you smile.”
And with that, he turned on the television and navigated to what looked like channels dedicated just to kids. I didn’t even know I had those.
When he stopped on one cartoon, Sheena squealed and clapped her hands together, making me snort.
The problem was, I’d focused on what was going on in it, and within five minutes, I’d become invested in the plot. There were animals that were domesticated pets and other ones that’d been dumped into the sewer or abandoned. Then there was the dog catcher guy… this shit was addictive.
So, I sat down on the couch and watched it all play out, absent-mindedly helping Sheena up onto it beside me when she crawled over. With the two of us curled up together, we sat and watched the movie, eating grapes and popcorn when Garrett brought them out to us.
Maybe I could do this mothering stuff? It was so easy.
Three hours later…
“Are you sure that was a fart?” I croaked, holding the neck of my t-shirt to my face. “I don’t think it was, you know.”
Peeking over the back of the couch, Garrett eyed Sheena, who was lying on her back on the floor, giggling. “I don’t see anything.”
“How are you going to know from all the way over there? You’ve got to check her diaper.”
The horrified look he gave me would’ve been amusing if it wasn’t a case of life or death. “I’m not looking in her diaper. It’s a girl.”
Blinking, I tried to understand his logic. “So, if it were a boy, I’d be the one hiding behind the couch?”
He was totally lying when he said “yes,” I could see it in his eyes.
Just then, the nastiest stomach curdling noise came out of the cute baby, and I decided there and then I was never having kids.
I couldn’t leave the poor kid if she’d shit herself, though, so I slowly got up and walked into the kitchen, opening the drawer that had a box of disposable gloves for when I had to cut raw meat. I hated touching it, so I always had them.
Pulling out four, I tried to get them over my cast, but it was impossible.
“If you want me to do it, you’re going to have to help me put these on.”
While he got up and moved around the couch, giving the baby a wide berth, I picked up the hair clip that I’d left on the counter this morning and attached it to the front of my t-shirt. Then, after going through things I might possibly need, I went and got a whole roll of paper towels.
Turning around, I almost jumped when I saw Garrett standing with one of the gloves in his hands, waiting for me. “She’s got wipes and whatever shit she needs in her bag. I think those are too abrasive for her.”
Ignoring him, I held out a hand and waited for him to put the glove on it. “I’m double gloving, so can you put the other one on top, please?”
Once I was gloved up, I took the hair clip off my t-shirt and put it on my nose. That idea lasted all of five seconds before I gave in to the pain and watering eyes and dumped it back on the side.
I was going to have to go in unprotected.
Moving closer to her, I picked up the diaper bag and laid it beside Sheena, trying to plan how I was going to do this. I’d only ever seen shit like this in movies, so I didn’t know where to start.
Seeing as how he’d gotten us into this mess, he was going to have to help me. “Garrett, can you pull up a tutorial on how to change a diaper?”
Not saying a word, he started tapping on the screen of his phone and then put it on the top of the counter. “There you go.”
Looking down at the baby in the middle of my living room and then back over at the phone, I made the point without saying a word—there was no way in hell I was going to be able to see it from where I was.
After he sighed and moved out from behind his wall, I got down on my knees and spoke like I was trying to settle a wild animal.
“Okay, there’s nothing to be scared of. I’m just going to check you out and make sure you’re okay. Trust me, I’ll be as gentle as I can, and then you can go back to running wild and free.”
“She’s not a tiger, pretty girl,” Garrett snickered, putting the phone down next to me and backing away quickly as Sheena made a growling noise at him.
&nbs
p; “You were saying?”
The whole time I watched the video's long-winded introduction, Sheena farted and giggled to her heart’s content while I tried not to throw up.
I worked in a hospital, I needed to be better than this, but five days of the pain medication and eating weird shit had my stomach ready to riot.
Finally, the woman moved onto what I needed to do.
To begin with, I needed a changing mat.
Looking at the bag, I groaned when I saw the sturdy clips keeping it closed. They definitely required two hands, and I only one.
“Garrett, I’m going to need your help. That bag looks like you need to know a special magical spell to open it.”
Snickering, he kneeled beside me and undid them. “What do you need from inside?”
“Everything.”
Usually, when someone says that, the person waits for them to start asking for stuff.
Not Garrett Evans.
Oh no, Captain Evans, in his panic, dumped out the contents of the bag onto the floor, and there was a lot of it.
“Holy shit, did she pack her whole wardrobe?”
How many changes does one baby need?
Picking up a towel thing, he lifted her legs and laid it from her butt down to her feet. “There, you can do the rest.”
My left hand might be shit at doing everything else, but it sure as hell worked when I was digging my nails into his arm to hold him in place.
“You’ll stay. If I couldn’t even open a bag, how the hell do I open a diaper or whatever other weird shit we’re going to need. What’s that?” I pointed at something weird on the ground.
Picking it up, he squinted at the small writing on it. The thing in question looked like a pacifier, but it had some sort of mesh on the end of it.
Did you put cream in it and stick it in a crevice? Was it to get dry bits of poop off?
“It’s a Fresh-Mesh Food Feeder.”
Just Good Friends (Cheap Thrills Series Book 5) Page 6
