Page 67 of Take My Hand

29

MARGARET

Seven months later

MY STARE GETS lost in the bright sky, not a cloud in sight for one of my many days on patrol. It’s become a habit of mine to lose myself in my surroundings whenever I get breaks, the open air and bright sunshine a reminder that being free isn’t something I should ever take lightly.

We’re taking a lunch break, one I have no doubt will be interrupted just as I’m about to eat, as tends to happen often, but that’s just one of the many aspects of this job.

After leaving Vegas, I went straight to my old job and quit. I thought it was going to be some amazing, empowering moment for me, but the only thing they said was, “You should check your voicemails.” It turns out after spending a few weeks away without contacting them at all, I was fired anyway. It was anticlimactic at best.

It took a little time to figure out what I wanted. I knew after spending time with Liam and Ford and Gemma that I wanted to be of service to people. I wanted to make a difference, even if it was a tiny one. I thought about a lot of options using my degree, but nothing interested me enough to hook me. As I sat in an apartment I couldn’t pay for, eating food I shouldn’t have been eating, I saw a commercial for respecting the those in blue, and something in me clicked.

I spent six months in the police academy, and it was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Studying for it was absolutely insane, but I graduated second in the class and immediately got assigned to the Denver Precinct, working with Officer Gray, who has been on the force ten years. He isn’t much older than me, a good-looking guy and a total asshole.

I think that’s why we get along okay. He would never be my friend, as he’s made clear since I was assigned as his boot, but I am determined, as I am with everyone I meet, to be his friend.

Whether he likes it or not.

“So, what’d you do last night?” I ask, taking the first bite of my taco. The local food truck that sits outside the precinct is awesome, and I go here as much as possible. Who can say no to tacos?

“That’s none of your concern,” Gray says, taking in his surroundings. Dude’s a paranoid bastard, not that it isn’t warranted. Crime is everywhere, but it makes it difficult to enjoy my food when I watch his neck twist from side to side like an owl.

I’m one of the few people who truly knows how much bad is really out there, though no one knows what happened to me all those months ago. After my name went into the system when I joined the academy, I had a visit from the director of the FBI, Liam’s boss, or at least he was Liam’s boss. I wasn’t expecting it and he was an intimidating bastard, but he had to make sure I was going to keep my mouth shut.

There’s nothing on my record about what happened with the FBI because I was an innocent civilian, but he wanted to make sure I wasn’t spreading around the fact that I was a part of one of the biggest drug stings in history.

Even if I wanted to gloat about it, I wouldn’t, because Anton’s actions still haunt my dreams.

Before I could ask any more questions, Hayes—the director—was gone.

“Come on, Gray, just give me a little something.” I flash him my cheekiest grin, knowing it seems to work on men and encourage them to give in to me. How handy.

“Fine.” He grunts, and I pause my movements, waiting for him to tell all. “I went on a date.”

I sit up, eagerly anticipating details like he’s one of my girlfriends. “And…” I draw out.

His mouth opens to answer me, but he’s cut off by our radios. “Units be advised, 10-31, robbery in progress, 1920 Chesnut Place.”

Gray picks up his radio first. “Copy, unit 23 in route.”

We jump up from our seats, quickly dump out half-eaten food, and make our way to our patrol car. Rookies almost always drive, and Gray has made me painstakingly memorize every route over the last few months.

I turn on the lights and pull out into traffic. I’ve always been an okay driver, despite the fact that I didn’t have a car for the last five years. Thankfully, I was never afraid of driving. Being an officer means my driving has to be amazing, and being in Denver means I have to have incredibly fast reflexes. Drivers downtown are the absolute worst, and sixty percent of my job is writing tickets for reckless driving.

When we pull up to the bank, there are already several officers in place, surrounding the building and standing behind the wall of parked patrol cars. The street is blocked off, and Gray walks over to the officer who arrived first. Officer O’Reilly is a complete badass, and personally she’s my hero, but I’d never tell Gray that. I think he wants to believe he holds fills coveted role.

“What’s the situation?” he asks her, looking toward the building.

“Robbery in progress. They’re armed and have hostages. We don’t know the count, though.”

“So, basically worst-case scenario,” he replies.

It’s a big building for a bank, meaning they have some serious dough in there, but I can’t figure out what kind of idiot thought it would be a good idea to rob a bank of this size with the Denver PD around.

“Negotiator?” Grays asks, looking around at all the officers.

“Still waiting on him,” O’Reilly answers, looking pissed off.

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