1. Libby #4
“You need to relax.” He pushes me back into my chair the way he would push Oz.
Nobody here treats me like a lady. No one is super careful about my feelings or being gentle, which is exactly how I want to be treated.
I’m not a woman when in uniform, but a cop.
A cop to be respected. And that respect has nothing to do with what I was born with between my legs.
“You did good, Tate. You assessed the situation. Nobody was hurt. Statements from witnesses mention your valor. As far as you knew, it was a real gun. You’re not in trouble. ”
“I’m not?” I swallow my nerves. “Even though I probably could have cuffed him after the first slam?”
He sits on the corner of my desk and gives a small smile. “Adrenaline was running high, dude with a gun, bag of money, and smokes laying around, and your colleague was walking around with the ick hands. You did good. You won’t catch heat from me about it.”
“Okay.” I stand again and snatch up my keys. “That’s great. I’m gonna go home. I need sleep so bad, my face aches.” I meet his eyes. “My face actually hurts from lack of sleep, so…”
Chuckling, he snags my wrist and pulls me back until I sit with a huff. “Do you need to talk about something?”
“What?” My pulse skitters like crazy. “No.”
“You’re so tightly wound, Lib. You’re so insanely on edge all the time. It’s like you’re waiting for me to slap you down and take your badge.”
“I don’t—I’m not…”
“You’re not your daddy,” he murmurs. Sitting forward, he presses his hands together and laces his fingers.
“It would suck to have the last name of a man you don’t respect.
Especially in the same field of work. It would suck being in an industry run mostly by men.
But you worked for your position in my squad, Lib.
You earned that badge, and you earn it every single day that you come to work.
I’ve never once compared you to your father.
I don’t consider all kids to be products of their parents.
I don’t consider all kids to be the same in behavior.
Your father was crooked, but you’re so straight you’re gonna snap.
Your father brought shame to the badge. But you add shine.
Every single day you wear it, you clean off some of the filth and make it shinier.
So I’ll ask again; anything you wanna talk about? ”
“It’s just…” I lift a hand, then let it drop. “I just…” I grunt from the frustration of knowing what I want to say, but being too scared to voice it.
But then our eyes meet, and he reminds me he’s the leader worthy of respect.
“I don’t want anyone to think I could be dirty,” I whisper. “I don’t even want it to be a thought running through their mind. It would break my damn heart to work so hard, only for residual suspicion to leak onto me.”
“But, Lib, no one has ever thought that about you… except you.” Alex shifts on the edge of my desk and makes himself comfortable.
“Hayes was in this very fucking station, but no one thought it had anything to do with you. We had his case boards filling the war room, but did you hide what you knew of that man?” He sits back and shakes his head.
“Nope. You dug in deep and gave us everything–even your memories as a child. Cruz was in here, and he wasn’t exactly on the up and up.
He wasn’t a bad cop, but he was sneaking.
Who suspected it first?” Blue eyes bore into mine.
“Wasn’t me. It was you. You’re so attuned to the station and everyone’s behavior, you called Cruz long before I did.
You near ripped his head off when he said you’d taken his lunch.
You thought he was dirty, and you were ready to take him out.
But the second he was proven innocent, you admitted you were wrong and apologized.
You treated him fairly, when I guess I was still caught up in my anger.
He wasn’t dirty, but he still lied, and that messed with me.
You’ve proven yourself, Lib. Not all children are their fathers, not everyone grows up to carry on the family business.
You’ve done your job, you continue to do your job.
You demand our respect and belief, but you don’t believe in yourself.
” Standing, Alex gives a sad little shake of his head.
“You’re a good cop, Libby. You’re one of the best. Don’t get so caught up in someone else’s behavior that you forget your own. ”
I walk away from my station with a little less weight on my heart, if not a smile.
My chief believes me. He believes in me.
And really, as the daughter of a crooked cop serving life in prison for multiple counts of murder, corruption, embezzlement, theft, assault, drugs and gun-related crimes, that’s all I can hope for.
I slide into my car and sit for a moment.
I’m so straight I’m going to break.
Well, if that ain’t the truth.
A yawn overtakes my body and forces my mouth so wide that my face aches. My eyes water, and when I look at my hand, I huff at the spots of dried blood that flew from Donohue’s face.
“Shit.”
I switch on the ignition and pull away from the curb. I need to go home and reset. I need to stop freaking out about every little thing at work. I’m thirty-one years old, not nine, and I don’t have to apologize anymore for my father’s actions.
He’s in prison, he was proven guilty.
I’m free, I don’t have dimples in my knees anymore, and I have the respect of my CO and colleagues.
I’m a good fucking cop, and there’s not a soul on this planet that can take that away from me.