Bestfriends Shouldn’t Know How You Taste

Chapter 71 

“Did it slip the captain’s mind that I have a toddler  waiting for me at home? I can’t work overtime.” I  grumble as I bring the cup of coffee to my lips. 

God I needed that bitter sweet liquid. 

“I don’t think captain Steffen cares.” Nate snorts, kicking  up his feet on the white desk. 

I rolled my eyes, placing the cup down on the surface of  the desk. 

“He should care because I was the one who made it  possible for him to become the captain that he is today.” 

It was true. I was selected to become the next captain of  the department but I turned it down. All for one reason,  my family. 

If I had taken that role I would not be able to spend  much time with them as I wanted to. My family is my life,  I can’t stay long without them.

So I turned down the role and recommended Steffen.  Who happened to turn out to be an a*s. 

“Officer Waters there’s a call for action at Willow street.”  One of the new recruits ran up to us. 

I groaned staring at the ceiling. “I swear that area is the  devil’s spawn.” 

I turn to stare at the younger man. His sandy blonde hair  cropped short, brown eyes wide with alarm. He looked  comical but I refrain from laughing at his expense. 

“Anything else we need to know before we go there?” I  questioned opening the drawer to pull out my gun. Nate  does the same as he stands up. 

only  that it was a young

of the  crime?” I asked in a

said it was house number 223. That’s  what she got when she

poor girl who got harra*sed by the many  criminals lurking around this part of

time to call for help.

cringed remembering the poor girl we found dead on  the road bare. She had been raped and battered. The lad  who found her was too late, she had been dead hours  ago

the car door and

I tear my  eyes away and

they’ve gotten here before us.” I nudge my

here? Whatever it was, it

continue walking ahead until something  familiar caught my eye and has me halting.

as I see the motorcycle I gifted my first son

 to Nate. Blake had spray painted his name at

the old house  when the paramedics roll out what seemed to be a

you can’t just run into-“

to Nate’s words. “You can’t go in yet.” Another

to know if this is my son under that  white cloth. “Is that my

move of the stretcher and peeled off the  white cloth. Black hair. A sob rack over me until I

there? Dark haired boy?” I asked  one of the female medics in a

a

with unease and my chest gets heavy  with anguish. There lies my son, soaked with blood as  they place him on one of the

hear a

when his eyes drop to  Blake.