“You. I’ve known you for months and I’ve never heard you… be a bitch.” She starts laughing, making me laugh right along with her.
“I don’t know, he just…” I pause, trying to discover the reason why I acted the way I did. “I probably shouldn’t have been mean, but he just doesn’t get the hint I don’t want to fuck him.”
“I think he does now.” She nods, looking over my shoulder. I follow her gaze and see him whispering into another deputy sheriff’s ear, Sandra Collings.
“Good for her,” I whisper, turning back to my drink.
“You know, not all guys are like Deputy Quick Dick.”
I nearly spray milkshake out of my nose.
Sometimes I hate that she knows that story. Deputy Quick Dick was a deputy at the sheriff’s department when I was in college. I had seen him around quite a bit, and my father even had him at the house for dinner once. He was really good-looking, and constantly staring at me. He had dark hair that was cut short, a sharp jaw, and thick biceps. We flirted here and there in passing. One night, after a late night of studying at the college, my ride left early and my cellphone died. I started to walk home in the rain when Deputy Quick Dick was doing his usual routes. He found me and picked me up. He was a smooth-talker, and I was a starved eighteen-year-old ready to lose her V card. I ended up in the back of his cruiser and… it was terrible. He had me doggy-style–yeah, for my first time—and the only touching we had was his hips slamming into the back of me. It was quick, it hurt, and when he was finished I felt humiliated. I wasn’t sure what all the hype about sex was about, because I for one was in no hurry to do it again. I think he got transferred to a new department or something, because I didn’t see him again.
“Seriously, you don’t know what you’re missing.” She takes a big bite of her burger, and I shake my head. “Sex can be so great, especially when you get a guy with one of those dicks that are so big, they look Jurassic-size.”
My eyes bug out, and I choke on my creamy milkshake.
“Where do you come up with this stuff?” I laugh, slapping my chest to make the shake go down. I point at her. “You have some serious issues.”
She shrugs sweetly, and takes another bite of her burger.
“I’m not missing anything. I’m fine with my sex life. Besides…” I look over my shoulder at Orlando, who is grabbing onto another deputy’s backside. “I have a strong feeling he’s just another Deputy Quick Dick.”
THREE
JILLIAN
“Deputy Adams!” is yelled from one of the offices down the hall, causing everyone in the squad room to turn their heads. I head into Lieutenant Oaks’s office and find him grimacing over some papers.
“Yes, sir?”
“Looks like you’ve completed your hours of field training.” He sets the papers down and frowns.
“I thought I had one more shift.”
“Apparently not. I just went over your hours and you’re all set.” His eyes slide from his desk to me. “You think you’re ready?” His tone sounds as if he’s not convinced, and I haven’t even replied. It’s the father in him; I can tell he’s worried for my safety by all the zig-zag lines stretched across his forehead.
“Yes, sir, I do.” I give a strong nod.
“I want Chewie to ride with you.” He looks down at his desk quickly.
“Why?” My mouth hangs open. He can’t be serious.
“Chewie just finished his hours as well, and I’m a little nervous for him to be out on his own. Just for a few days.”
He’s lying; he wants me to have a partner because he’s scared of me being out there on my own. He doesn’t think I’m ready. Exhaling slowly, I clasp my hands in front of me. I really didn’t want a damn partner, but if it gets me out on the road then whatever.
“Anything else, sir?”
“That’ll be all.”
Cursing under my breath, I head out the back of the building. I mean, if I had to have a partner I’m glad it was Chewie, but just the idea of having one is what makes me angry.
“Wait up!” Looking over my shoulder, I spot Chewie, also known as Deputy Silver. He’s of medium build, and his hair looks to be buzzed off.
“You wanna ride with me, you better keep up,” I advise, rounding my cruiser.
“You’re driving?” he questions. His tone is unbelieving, his green eyes squinting.
“Yes, I’m driving,” I respond, jerking the car door open.
Sliding into the car, I look at the MDT, the Mobile Data Terminal. It’s a computer in our car that relays messages from dispatch, and I can look into a person’s background history with law enforcement. I can also have real-time messages with other deputies on duty. It does everything, a lifesaver.
“Looks like there’s an alarm going off. Going to be a bit of a drive if we go around the strip. We should go right through it, we’ll get there quicker.”
“Let’s do it,” Chewie rasps, buckling his seat belt.
“5paul69, we’ll take the alarm on Prairie Drive.”
“5paul69, copy.”
Putting the car in reverse, we back out of the station and head toward the main strip.
“So, you always wanted to be a sheriff?” Chewie asks me.