Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
The sergeant had his cadets lined up in two rows as he reviewed the session’s requirements. The eighteen police trainees got into position, and Godfrey ended up in front of a burly cadet with broad shoulders, hardpacked muscles, and a jagged scar across his left cheek that kissed his cold, unreadable eyes.
“Spar!” the sergeant ordered.
Godfrey squatted, arms up in a defensive position as his challenger orbited around him in search of a good opening.
They exchanged swift, controlled strikes, but Godfrey quickly put his opponent on the defense.
Every punch or block from Godfrey was timed perfectly. There was no hesitation in his movements, unlike his challenger. Day was mesmerized as he watched Godfrey use his big body as a weapon, battling with a combination of brute force and control.
Godfrey’s next partner—interesting enough—was a woman about ten inches shorter than his six foot four.
Day grinned and leaned in with his elbows on his knees.
This is gonna be fun.
“Spar!” the sergeant yelled.
The cadets began to square each other up, but Godfrey stood in place, appearing bored while waiting for his challenger to make her move.
She glared at Godfrey with heat radiating in her eyes as she crouched and moved in a half circle.
She charged. Godfrey sidestepped, so she grabbed nothing but air, almost falling face-first to the mat.
The woman spun, growling like a fierce lioness, then ran toward Godfrey again. She leaped that time, and Godfrey caught her around her waist and gently brought her down to the mat. Before she could get up, Godfrey placed his palm on her back, looking as if he were barely applying pressure as she kicked and squirmed to get on her feet.
There were a few snickers from her teammates, but the glare Godfrey threw made them shut up and refocus on their own sessions.
“Oh, come on, Sarge!” she barked. “He’s five times my size.”
Her senior went down on his knee, getting in her face, which was mashed against the mat. “And what happens when you have to detain a suspect of his size? You gonna call foul in the damn field?”
“No, sir,” she mumbled as Godfrey let her up.
When the sergeant motioned for her to try again, she rolled her eyes.
“I’ve got balls, Davis…go for ’em,” Godfrey muttered.
Day perked up as the sound of that gritty voice sent fire down his spine. He rarely got to hear Godfrey speak.
The sergeant scoffed a laugh and nodded as if what Godfrey said made obvious sense.
Davis took Godfrey’s advice and tried to slam her boot into his groin at least ten times, making him focus on protecting them while Davis got in a few decent blows and some cheers of encouragement from her classmates.
Day knew at that moment he wanted closer to Godfrey. And it wasn’t about attraction. He wanted to work and learn from him. Day liked to stay out of the spotlight so no one saw him coming until it was too late. And it was obvious Godfrey wasn’t an attention seeker, not like the other cadets, who were stabbing their own brothers in the back to get to the top of the class.
He and Godfrey made sense. The perfect complement.
Graduation was in a couple of weeks, and after it was over, one of the people in this graduating class would be his partner, and he’d be damned if he ended up with a fake-ass Mike Lowrey.
You’re mine, Godfrey.
Day
Day called it fucking fate that he and Godfrey were assigned to the same precinct after their four-month field training.
It was the first day of orientation, and Day had been strolling through his Starbucks newsletter, getting excited at the new winter blends—Oh damn, chestnut praline latte sounds good as fuck. I’ll grab one during lunch, and then after lunch, and then again before— when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
“God, how in the hell did you get assigned to Zone Three,” a guy hollered, yanking Day from his fantasy. “I thought they’d assign your overachieving ass to patrol the Georgia Supreme Court.”
Day tried not to be obvious as he watched Godfrey—God—fist-bump a short, buff Latino officer with kind eyes and a killer smile.
“Real funny, Joker. What the fuck are you doing here?” God rumbled. “I thought I was done with you after training.”
“Well, my boys and I came to scope out any prospects for my department. Your class wasn’t half-bad.”
The handsome man’s badge read APD SWAT.
“I got a spot open for you, God, if you’re—”
“Not interested, Joker.”
“Why not?” The officer actually looked offended.
“One, because you play too fuckin’ much, and two, because I don’t wanna be on SWAT.”
“All right, buddy.” He clamped God hard on his shoulder. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”
God gave the SWAT sergeant another fist bump, then sat on the other side of the room, farthest from everyone else.