Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
I don’t dare stop, pushing my fingers past their limits, even when they’re cut up and bruised. I clench my jaw, giving it everything I’ve got. Finally, the latch is freed, and I can shove the door open from within. I immediately stick my head out, breathing in the fresh air as tears streak down my face.
My gaze snaps around the room, and realizing that I was right, that the prick is actually gone has me sagging with relief, and I’m free to take my time as I crouch down and roll the table out of the top locker.
My hands shake, and my teeth chatter from the cold, but the moment I can, I inch off the edge of the high table and drop straight to the ground. My feet ache from the impact of the linoleum beneath me, and my cold knees instantly give out, dropping me heavily to the ground, but I don’t care. All that matters is that I’m free.
For now.
Then not skipping my chance at freedom, I hastily close the locker behind me before hightailing it out of here, grabbing my shit on the way and not daring to look back.
13
KNIGHT
Metal lockers clang through the room as the boys grab their shit so we can finally get out of here. It was a quick call out that we had under control in no time, but it was a rough one. It’s always fucking rough when kids are involved, and while everyone came out alive and unharmed, it was a close one.
My team drove back to the station in silence, and once their heads finally hit their pillows, I have no doubt they’ll remember the terror-filled screams of the children we just saved.
I blow out a heavy breath and grab my wallet, keys, and phone from my locker before quickly closing it up. Most of the guys will hang back and shower before leaving, especially those who just ended up working a double, but I prefer to shower in peace at home.
“I’m out,” I tell the boys, closing my locker. “You guys good here?”
“Yeah, boss,” Diesel says from beside me, eyeing Ace with venom as he walks by.
“Ease up on him,” I warn Diesel. “It’s not his fault you morons have the same taste in pussy.”
Diesel clenches his jaw, and I have to laugh. Diesel, Ace, and I have been in this together since the beginning. We were all rookies together, been through the worst you could imagine, and because of it, they’re my closest friends. They have always had my back, just as I’ve always had theirs. The only time we ever clash is when there’s a woman involved.
These two assholes are permanently single. They like no-strings fucking, but where it all goes wrong is when it comes down to who they’re going to take home. If they’re out at a bar and there’s a room full of women, they’ll both want the same one. It’s been an ongoing issue. Honestly, it would be easier if they buried the hatchet and just shared.
Diesel mutters to himself, and I can only imagine the insults flying from his lips, but I’m too fucking tired to care. Instead, I keep it moving, watching Ace with a close eye, knowing it wouldn’t take much to set him off, and considering whatever bullshit that’s going on between them seems fresh, I wouldn’t put it past him to create a Diesel-shaped hole in the wall.
Ace takes his ass into the bathroom, and I let out a sigh of relief before leaving, knowing I won’t have to worry about those assholes tonight. If they didn’t break just then after the night we’ve had, then they’ll be alright to keep their fists to themselves. But come tomorrow, there’ll be one hell of a nasty sparring session.
My bets are on Diesel though. He can be a rough motherfucker when he snaps. He’s the silent brooding type, but fuck, when he lets go he really fucking lets go.
I make my way down to the parking garage, and just as I reach my truck, I see Detective Gray pulling in. After throwing my shit into the back of my truck, I wander down to Gray, waiting for him to park his car and get ready for his shift.
“Yo, Gray,” I call out, approaching him as he’s heading toward the station.
“Slater,” he mutters, giving me a hard stare. “Still an asshole?”
“Try me and find out,” I tell him, all too aware of the many times we’ve butted heads over the years. He’s a pretentious prick, and I don’t have time for that shit. Naturally, we’ve never gotten along, but when it comes to working a case, we’ve always been able to put our differences aside.
Gray rolls his eyes. “What can I do for you?”
“I just have a question about the homicide you picked up last night? John Doe. Stab wounds. You dropped him at the morgue.”