Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
The whole ordeal takes longer than it should due to having to take the long way around after the thunderstorm we had washed out some of the gravel on the most direct route to his house. The county has a crew heading our way the first part of next week, something I had to relay to more than one person when they complained to me about it at the competition earlier.
I feel more relief than I should when I finally make it to the bar and don’t see Adalynn’s car in the parking lot. I don’t know why I even expected it to be there. She hasn’t met me here in weeks. It’s just one more thing that has changed where we’re concerned.
I leave the windows cracked because even with as cordial as Margie was when she saw me, it didn’t stop her from shitting in the back seat of my cruiser. I pray the odor is gone by the time I make it back out, but if it isn’t, it wouldn’t be the first time I eat my dinner using the trunk as my table. I’m adaptable that way.
My thoughts about staying in bed all day hit me right in the chest when I step inside, my eyes going right to the table that Adalynn always waited for me at. There’s a stranger sitting there, but Adalynn is sitting across from him, a wide smile on her face.
Anger slashes at me, my hands forming fists as I start in that direction.
“Hey, man.”
I glare down at the palm pressing against my chest before looking up at Walker. There’s a warning in his eyes.
“I’ll have the cook remake your dinner. I expected you sooner.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not hungry.”
“A man in uniform needs dinner just as much as the next person,” Walker says, his choice of words hitting me right where they’re intended.
I’m on the clock, technically working for the city right now. Beating the shit out of someone in front of witnesses wouldn’t be received well. The climate surrounding cops isn’t the greatest, and I’ve always prided myself in being part of a team that takes its oath to serve and protect very seriously. I didn’t even rough up that man who was hurting his wife the way I really wanted to. He made it to jail with no injuries, even though his wife was sitting in the hospital with a broken arm and enough fear that she didn’t want to press charges.
I swallow before speaking.
“I need something else.”
“So not the burger and fries? We have chicken strips, and I think there might be some corn dogs in the freezer if you—”
“Whiskey,” I snap. “A full bottle.”
His eyes dart back down to the badge pinned on the left side of my uniform. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I’ll take it with me.”
“That’s illegal, champ.”
“Leave it on the back stoop,” I tell him, locking eyes with Adalynn when she diverts her attention from her date.
He looks over his shoulder, and it surprises me that I don’t recognize him. Normally, Adalynn wouldn’t give an outsider her attention. She’s the most Lindell-loyal person I know.
Something flashes in her eyes, but I’m in no position in my anger to recognize it. She’s either upset that I’m here in the first place or she’s feeling a little bad about getting caught.
Either way, it doesn’t matter.
“The whiskey, Walker,” I growl before turning around to walk out of the bar.
“I love a man in uniform,” a woman says, blocking my path to the door. “For when you get off shift.”
I don’t stop her when she pushes a slip of paper into my pocket. If she had reached into my right pocket, just below my firearm, I might have had to put my hands on her, but she must be truthful about her uniform fetish because she keeps to my left side.
The paper goes in the outside trash the second I leave the bar. I’ve never had time for badge bunnies, and even with the way I feel right now, I don’t plan on entertaining the idea of them.
I wait by my patrol car, the stench still permeating the inside. I watch as light flashes in the back, telling me that the back door opened and closed, before heading back there.
I feel like a complete asshole when I get around the back and see the Styrofoam clam shell sitting beside the bottle of whiskey. I put Walker in a position that could make him lose his livelihood and instead of refusing me, he also included my dinner.
That regret doesn’t stop me from scooping up both items and going back to my patrol car. I radio out to the sheriff department’s dispatch when I pull up in my driveway.
I’m off tomorrow, and I have every intention of spending it with the worst hangover this bottle will give me. I put the dinner Walker left me in the fridge because I don’t want a damn thing keeping me from punishing myself for how fucked up I let things get with Adalynn.