Page 62 of A Brother At My Back

“Thank you,” I murmured. Nik didn’t look at all happy to let me go, and it was a sentiment echoed in my own heart. Still, I did as the officer bid and went to get the envelope of paperwork that I carried in my purse, always.

We went downstairs, the officer ghosting along behind me a respectful distance away. I immediately went to my locker, twisting the dial on the combination lock while the officer stood close by.

“He do that to your face?” he asked and I nodded. He didn’t know. I tossed my lace mask into the bottom of my locker and pulled out my gym bag and purse.

“Can I get dressed while we’re down here?” I asked.

“Um, sure, I don’t see why not.”

I hauled out my leggings and jeans as soon as I was done fishing out the restraining order for him. He opened the envelope and pulled out the sheaf of papers, reading through them while I pulled on first my leggings, then my jeans over them, right on over my dance costume. They weren’t the most comfortable underwear on the planet, but I didn’t care about that right now.

I sat down on the bench and pulled first a stretchy camisole over my head, tucking it into the jeans, following it up with a printed, form-fitting thermal. Black with roses and angel wings. Another piece of clothing that was biker-ish when I stopped to think about it.

He was on the third or fourth page, eyes scanning back and forth when I pulled on my boots and zipped them. I shoved my gym bag back into the locker and took my coat down off the hook, shrugging into it, and pulling my hair from the collar just as he finished the last page.

“You’re fast at that,” he said and I sighed.

“Years of practice.”

He chuckled a little darkly and sighed, “You know he’s going to have a warrant issued for his arrest, but manpower-wise, we won’t be actively looking for him.”

“No humans involved, right?” I asked and he scowled at me.

“How did you know about that?” he demanded.

“That I’m one of the inhumans by the boys in blue’s standard?” I said and sighed. “I heard one of you say it two years ago. One of the dancers here was killed by her boyfriend. When the detectives came and investigated, I overheard one of them say it. I asked Alan about it later.”

“Alan being your boss upstairs?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m really sorry you had to hear that. I hope you know not all cops think that way.”

I gave him a sad sort of smile, “Not enough of you don’t think that way, honey. I know which ways the scales tip. I also remember one of the cops that responded when this happened told me that if I’d listened the last time Silas had hit me, and if I’d left, I wouldn’t be in that position and that I’d pretty much done it to myself. So, sorry if I don’t have a whole lot of faith in the system anymore. Once you’re branded a “professional victim,” I made air quotes with my fingers around the phrase, “You don’t have a whole lot of faith left that anyone cares enough to actually help you.”

“I’m really sorry that any of that was said or happened to you,” he said, and he genuinely looked upset.

I shrugged. I was used to it by now, which is why I’d gone to find help on my own. It was hard to care about the system when the system didn’t care about you.

“We’ll get him,” he said.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I replied, but I said it gently.

“We always get them eventually,” he said.

I shook my head and sighed, “Problem is what they get away with in the meantime, though. Isn’t it?”

“You have me there.”

“Are you done with that?” I asked and gestured to the piece of paper that was basically my only shield, and as we all know, a piece of paper makes a really shitty shield.

“Not yet,” he said holding out a hand indicating I should proceed him. I headed back upstairs and he followed, both of us trapped in an uneasy silence. On the same side but the opposite end of the spectrum, as it were.

“Took you long enough,” his partner, who was slightly older than him, said dispassionately on our return.

“Ah, good, you’re going home. I was going to insist,” Alan said.

I went over and gave him a hug and said, “I figured. It’s one of the reasons you’re a good boss.”

“You can’t perform your best after something like that,” he declared.

Nik made to get up and the older cop who was being a dick barked at him, “Sit down!”

“Myers, easy!” The younger cop, the one who’d gone downstairs with me, handed his partner the restraining order while I slipped over to Nik and tucked myself into his front. He remained standing, defiant, and I know that he made Myers nervous.

“She’ll be right,” Nik muttered softly to me and I lost some of the tension that was riding me. It was a Kiwi thing to say. It pretty much meant that everything would be okay, meaning that he wouldn’t go full metal idiot when it came to the cop and his ridiculous amount of disrespect. To a certain extent, it was to be expected. Cop and outlaw biker in the same room together was like mixing oil and water in the same Mason jar. I think it said something that the biker was the cooler head, though.

“Alright, so we have everyone’s statement but yours,” Myers declared, and his partner nodded to me behind his partner. Despite the fact that I knew it wouldn’t do any good, I started from the beginning.

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