Page 50 of Tequila Tuesdays

While we talked, I slowly undid my braids and let my hair down. Damien watched, then he wrapped his arm around me and ran his hand through my hair and down my neck. It felt like heaven.

“What happened with your girlfriend? Was it serious?”

He glanced away and I could tell he didn’t like talking about her. “Yeah, it was serious. And she’s another reason I quit.”

“What did she have to do with you quitting?”

“Not a lot. But when we first started seeing each other, she swore she could handle me being on the force.”

“I can hear a ‘but’ coming.”

He smiled faintly. “Butthe hours were long, and I probably wasn’t great company after a stressful shift. She finally told me I either needed to quit and go find another career, or she’d leave and go back to Los Angeles.”

“I’m confused. You aren’t on the force anymore, but your girlfriend isn’t around from what I can tell. What happened?”

“I’m not a big fan of ultimatums; that’s not how relationships should work. So I broke it off, and then I quit the force not long after that.”

I shook my head. “I agree about ultimatums, but I bet that stung a little.”

“There were other issues. My friends also didn’t like her. That was probably the biggest red flag. She was angry when she found out I’d quit.” He shrugged. “But by then I didn’t give a fuck.”

“If you didn’t quit because of her, why did you?” I asked.

“I was frustrated, and the pay was shit. We’d go to the same houses in the same neighborhoods three or four times a month. And nothing would change. We were always arresting the same people for the same charges, and nothing seemed to get better. It felt likeGroundhog Daysometimes.”

Patting his knee, I nodded. “I get it. I struggle with the same thing.”

He studied the skyline. “There was one perpetrator who kept beating the shit out of his wife and two little kids. But his wife would never press charges. This happened maybe five or six times.”

“Oh, God. I hate it when little kids are involved.”

Damien nodded. “I got to know those kids from going over to their house so much. The little girl would run up and grab my pinkie finger then pull me over to her mom, like she expected me to fix whatever was broken.”

“What happened?” I asked, dreading the answer but needing to know.

He sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair. “I was called out to a homicide case involving a little three-year-old. It was her. He’d beaten her to death for crying too much.” I suddenly knew where the shadows in his eyes came from.

I squeezed his hand and laid my head on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

He squeezed my hand back. We sat in silence for a few minutes.

Damien leaned back. “Zeke was coming back from a deployment, and he planned to leave the military. We’ve been best friends since middle school.”

“You two seem to know each other pretty well.”

He nodded. “He wanted to start a business that complemented our backgrounds, and Sebastian was good with security systems and low-tech voltage.”

“It sounds like a good arrangement.”

“Yeah, it has been, and we’re all doing well.” He reached out to take a lock of my hair between his fingers. “What about you? Are you happy with your work?”

I didn’t have to think about it. “Yes, and my two office mates are as well. There’s a lot to be said for being your own boss.”

The soft tug on my hair from him playing with it felt soothing. A breeze kicked up, and I could smell the sage in his yard. I felt a little more grounded since hearing about Frankie’s death.

“When I have clients who relapse or re-offend. Or die…” I swallowed. “It’s hard, I need to keep a better emotional distance. Jaime says I’m shit at it.”

His lips tipped up. “He’s right, you are.”

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