Hetch (Men OF S.W.A.T. #1)

“You need to know your place, puta. You stepping in, putting your nose in where it doesn’t belong, is messing up my plans. Now Mitch is my family, not yours, and I’m not gonna take too kindly to you stepping in again. So I’m gonna give you a warning, and you’re going to listen to it.” His hand reaches out and wraps his fingers around my jaw, squeezing tightly.

I hold my composure. It’s not the first time I’ve been confronted by a group of boys or dealt with physical assault. Working in an all-boys home makes you tough.

“You’re gonna back the fuck off and let Mitch do what he needs to do. If you don’t, then you and I are going to have problems. You understand me?” His fingers dig deeper into my face.

Unable to move my mouth, I nod instead.

“Good. Glad we see eye to eye on this.” He releases my face with a push, then steps back. “Mitch, Liberty’s right. It’s late. Past your curfew. We’ll pick this up next time.” He nods to his crew then turns and starts walking away.

The guy holding my arms releases me with a push, forcing me down to the ground.

“And keep your mouth shut, bitch.” He delivers a kick to my ribs, followed by a boot to my face. A throbbing ache radiates through my face and a scream dies in my lungs almost immediately as an almighty sharp pain shoots up through my side, rendering me breathless.

“Liberty.” Mitch crawls forward, trying to help me to sit up, but the movement only causes me to yell out in pain.

“I’m so sorry, Liberty. It’s all my fault. I’m sorry.” Mitch starts crying, his hand raking through his hair and pulling at the ends in a frenzied state.

“It’s okay, Mitch. Just get me to the car.” My words come out in small bursts of air as I fight against the pain, against the fog threatening to take me under. My head is spinning, the blow to my ribs having altered my ability to stand, but I know if I don’t get up soon, I may pass out.

“Liberty? What’s happening? Do you need to go to the hospital?” He picks up something is wrong at about the same time realization hits me.

Something is definitely wrong. And not so much with him, but with me.

“Mitch, I-I….” My words slur and eyes blur as warm blood trickles down my cheek.

The last thing I hear before passing out is, “Police.”





Seven





Hetch





“You know what I think? I think she’s the first woman to knock you back, and you can’t handle it.” Sterling continues to give me shit hours after telling him about Liberty turning out to be the annoying woman in apartment seven.

“No, you know what I think?” I answer with my own question.

“What?” He sits a little straighter. He’s been waiting all night for me to bite. Ever since we started our shift, he’s been on my case about whether I’ve heard anything from my neighbor.

“I think you should mind your own damn business.” He laughs, not deterred from pissing me off.

It’s a quiet Monday night, and while Trebook’s tactical unit is closer to a full-time unit than part-time, we are still required to work patrol shifts on a rotating roster. Tonight is our shift.

Accident reports and domestic disputes have taken up half our night, add in Sterling’s bullshit prodding about my new neighbor and I’m about done. Give me training, give me drills, give me a twelve-hour hostage negotiation over this shit.

“Just fucking admit it. She has you messed up.”

“Control to 347, we have reports of an assault at the front of a convenience store, over on 6th and Lexington.” The call comes in over the radio, halting Sterling’s interrogation.

“347, 10-4, en route,” Sterling responds, while I take my next left, and pull the cruiser around to make my way back up to 6th.. We’re only three blocks away, and within two minutes, we pull up out the front of the convenience store.

The parking lot is quiet and dark, but as I park and exit the vehicle, I spot movement over to my right.

“There.” I point out to Sterling on our left. “Police,” I shout out, letting our presence be known. “Let me see your hands. Show me your hands.” Sterling comes around the cruiser, and we walk forward, flashlight in one hand, gun in another. My flashlight lands on a male, hunched over, while Sterling’s lands on a woman who appears to be passed out.

“Step away from her now and show me your hands,” I repeat my order, this time closer. I’m expecting him to run, can see him seriously thinking about it, but he complies with my order and steps back.

“Don’t shoot.” He raises his hands in front of him, showing me he’s not armed. My flashlight shines on his face, and I get a good look at him.

Jesus, he’s only a kid.

“I’m not gonna shoot you. Keep your hands where I can see them.” I walk forward to pat him down while Sterling checks on the woman.

“Please, you have to help her.” The kid doesn’t have any weapons on him, but I’m still not taking any chances, considering he was about to run, and his face looks like he’s been attacked.

“I’m just gonna put these on until I know what’s happening here.” I place the cuffs on his wrists. It’s not normal protocol, but considering the situation, and the area, I’m not taking any chances.

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