“Bro, where’ve you been?” Deacon shouts past me. I don’t need to turn my head to see Kade approaching. He’s the only person on the planet that Deacon calls bro.
“What the fuck happened to your hand?” Kade asks once he reaches the table.
“Nothing,” I snap out.
“She punched some drunk jackass and broke his nose.” Deacon answers Kade’s question with pride behind it.
“You okay?” Kade directs his question at me. I’m on the brink of tears when my best friend comes to my rescue.
“Hey, Brit. Your hand isn’t looking so great. Let’s go.” Sydnee senses my unease and provides an excuse to leave. Nodding, I stand and follow her outside.
She pulls her phone from her skirt pocket and arranges for an Uber to pick us up. Standing silently beside me, she wraps her arm around my waist and leans her head against my shoulder. It’s getting more difficult to hold back my tears, so I don’t. I let them stream down my face, mascara and all.
“Brit.” Kade’s husky voice comes from behind us. Without even knowing what went down, Sydnee turns around, and before I can react, she slaps Kade across the face. A couple of people outside smoking witness the slap. One woman comments that we are a couple of brawlers. She couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ve never hit someone before tonight. Well, unless sparring against my brother counts, and I know for certain Sydnee would never hurt a fly. I think Kade broke my best friend.
“Stop fucking with my friend’s head, asshole!” Syd yells as she steps closer to Kade, invading his personal space as my focus remains on the car that pulled up. “I don’t know what you did, but you did something to deserve that slap.”
“Our ride is here,” I squeak out past the knot in my throat. Without any more words or physical confrontation, Syd turns back around and steps past me to open the back seat door. I slide in and over behind the driver. After she’s in the car, I watch as she flips off Kade before slamming the car door.
“Sorry,” she apologizes to our driver. The driver senses our foul mood and doesn’t attempt to make small talk.
The drive home is quiet. Neither of us breaks the silence even when we get home. I go through my nightly routine and crawl into bed. All I want is for this day to end.
“Hey,” Sydnee says when she enters my room. “Here.” Sitting up, I take the glass of water and two ibuprofen she’s offering. Syd then hands me a package of frozen peas for my hand.
“Thanks.”
She pulls back the covers and slides into my bed on the other side. We both lie back, and she wraps her arm around my midsection, pulling me into a spooning hug. She doesn’t push for me to tell her what happened, but as I cry through the short story, she holds me tighter while cursing Kade to hell.
11
Kade
I can’t even begin to explain what the fuck happened the other night. When I walked into the pub, Britney was out on the dance floor looking hot as fuck in her red whatever-the-fuck-it-was she was wearing. Her mere presence drew me in without her knowing it. It was like a magnetic pull, moving my feet in her direction.
The way her body gyrated to the beat was making me hard, and when my hands settled on her hips, it was as if she had been waiting for me. The more we moved in unison, the harder it was for me to control myself, and I knew Deacon would be there any minute.
Before I had a chance to walk away, she turned around to face me. And that was my undoing. My dick needed attention, and before I died from the worst case of blue balls I’ve ever experienced, I walked away.
Making my way down the hall to the men’s restroom, I’d hoped cold water to the face would help snap me back to a more rational state, but it didn’t. I exited the bathroom to find Destiny waiting by the storage room door, so I thought, “What the hell.” She can blow me while I pretend it’s Britney.
Destiny pushed me against the liquor rack, wasting no time. She dropped to her knees, unzipped my jeans, and pulled them and my boxer briefs down far enough to release my dick from confinement. The second her mouth wrapped around the head of my cock, I closed my eyes and thought of Britney. My hands tangled in her hair, gripping the roots tighter as her mouth continued to slide down the length of my shaft until she couldn’t take any more. I worked her head back and forth, thrusting my hips forward hard and fast, pushing myself closer to my release. Nails dug into my ass cheeks, and that’s when I lost it, shooting my load down Destiny’s throat while calling out Britney’s name. Let’s just say, Sydnee wasn’t the only one that slapped me that night.
After Britney and Sydnee left the pub, I continued to get shit-faced with my coworkers. Deacon never questioned where I disappeared to, and when I returned, why I continued to get more hammered than usual. If he had asked, there was no way in hell I was going to tell him the real cause of why his sister leaving was because I did the one thing, and the reason he put our childhood pact in place—I broke her heart.
“Fuck!” I repeat over and over as my fists pound the punching bag in front of me. My face on the bag is all I picture with each blow. If only I could kick my own ass.
Fifteen minutes go by when my phone alerts someone is at the front gate. A part of me is hoping it’s Brit, but I’m not that lucky. Glancing down at the screen, I catch the back end of Deacon’s truck passing by the camera. Throwing my towel over my shoulder, I chug my electrolyte infused water and jog up the stairs to the main floor of my house. Once I clear the last step, I drag my feet down the hall to the living room where Deacon has already made himself at home.
“Good workout?” he asks.
“Not good enough.” It really wasn’t. I’m still pissed that I was weak and took what was offered to me, only to fail at getting Britney off my mind. In hindsight, it did the exact opposite. “You mind if I shower?”
“Please do. You stink.” Deacon settles back into the couch and turns on the television to pass the time while I take care of business. I’m not gone long when my friend barges into my bathroom while I’m still in the shower. The water cascading over my head muffles his words, so I step back and tell him to repeat what he said.
“Bro, hurry the fuck up. I just got a text from Lil Romeo, and he says he’s with our guys.”
“With them? Like, hanging out?”
“Fuck if I know. Romeo gave me an address, that’s all. Get dressed. We gotta get to the PD now.”
“I hear you. Now get the fuck out.” It takes me ten minutes to finish my shower, get dressed, and grab my work shit. I’ve learned to get ready in no time when I became SWAT. When we get called out, which happens randomly, the rule is that we have thirty minutes from being notified to get to the police department, get dressed in our SWAT gear, and loaded onto the command vehicle. Once the team is on the command vehicle, we get briefed on the situation at hand. Luckily, I’ve only had to go out four times in the two years I’ve been in this assignment.
If what our CI texted is accurate, we may have our guys in a few hours. First, we need official confirmation. Once we have that, then we can submit our warrant request to the judge. It helps that it’s daytime, and we aren’t waking the judge in the middle of the night when most warrants happen. Otherwise, search and arrest warrants take longer to acquire.