Chapter 1 #2
I swipe my knit watch cap off my head, shuck my jacket, and strip off my equipment belt; the hat and jacket I hang from the hooks on the wall beside the doorway, and the belt I drape across a corner of my desk.
I sink heavily into my chair and pinch the bridge of my nose against the headache I feel coming on.
"Fee, I don't want to talk about it."
"Manny, that's what you've said for fifteen years. Maybe it's time you do talk about it."
"I know you mean well, Fee, and I say this with all the love in my heart for you, brother, but please…fuck off."
Felix just chuckles, planting his ass in a chair in front of my desk. "Not likely, man. You're the calmest, most even-keeled person I've ever known, and you're vibrating on a whole other level right now. You're not fine. Let me help, Cole."
I rub my face with both hands—yeah, my head is pounding. "There's nothing to say. She left one night without any kind of a fucking explanation, and I haven't seen or heard from her in the fifteen years since until five minutes ago."
"You guys were in love," Felix points out, oh so helpfully. "Why the hell would she just ghost you like that?"
"Been asking myself that question for a long-ass time. Only one person has the answer to that question, and she ain't talking. To me, at least."
"She owes you some answers, man."
"Tell her that." I jiggle my mouse to wake up the computer, and slide on my blue blockers. "I've got expense reports to go over, Fee. Go be with our boy. He just got engaged."
"You should join us, Cole. Expense reports will keep ’til tomorrow."
I ignore him for a moment and then sigh, slumping away from the screen. "Fee, please. I…I can't. Okay? Just give them my congratulations. I'll see ya'll tomorrow."
Felix continues to stare at me. "No can do, buddy. You're hurting. I can see it even if you won't admit to it."
I shake my head. "Fee, I'm—"
"Bu-u-u-u-l-l-l-l-sh-i-i-i-i-t,” he singsongs. "Bullshit."
"Fee."
"Cole."
"You're not gonna let this go, are you?"
"Fuck no."
"Fine, it sucks. I'm upset. Seeing her was a shock. Like, I—" I close my eyes and fend off waves of agony coursing through my heart. "Fuck. I dunno. I dunno, okay? It's…she…I'm…"
Felix chuckles. "You're tongue-tied just thinking about it. And guess what, Cole? That's a pretty clear indicator that you are not fucking fine."
Guess Lacey and I have that in common, huh? The refusal to admit when you're not fine is an addictive habit of self-protection. I'm not sure how well it actually protects, but good luck getting either of us to give it up.
It's just that I usually push other people to admit when they need help. It's never me.
Because I'm always fine.
Felix raps his knuckles on the desk. "C'mon. You and me. Let's go get shitty."
I snort. "You have a baby and a wife to take care of."
He pulls out his phone, taps a contact, and sets it on the desk on speaker.
Ember answers after two rings. "Hey, baby. Cole okay?"
"He will be, but I need to spend some time with him."
"Do what you need to do, honey. He's your best friend."
"You're on speaker, and he's with me," I say.
"Oh. Hi, Cole!"
"Hey, Ember. Fee is blowing this whole thing way out of proportion."
"Because my husband is so prone to that."
I sigh. "There's a first time for everything."
"You spend your life taking care of people, Cole,” Ember says. “Let Felix be there for you."
"We're gonna go get hammered," Felix says.
She sighs a laugh. "Men. You think getting drunk and/or beating each other up solves everything."
Felix's face lights up. "Hey, we should spar. Good idea, hon!"
"Oh god. Just don't get seriously hurt, okay? I love you. Have fun, and don’t do anything too stupid."
"Give Ella kisses from Daddy."
I can't quite stop an amused snort from escaping at the tone and words coming out of Felix. He glares at me, shooting me the bird as he exchanges Love-You's with Ember.
After he ends the call, he pockets the phone and stabs a finger at me. "You're mocking me, aren't you?"
It's my turn to glare. "I swear to fucking god, Felix Crowe, if you start with the goddamn Toy Story quotes…"
He holds up his hands in surrender. "I wasn't, I swear. The bastard is rubbing off on us, though, isn't he? I only know that's a quote because he's used it on me so many times."
Our buddy, Nyx, has a habit of quoting movies—and especially Toy Story—every chance he gets; Toy Story is, for reasons no one can ever quite grasp, his favorite movie of all time, and he can quote the entire thing from memory. But then, Cody Nyx is a walking quirk.
Felix isn't done, though. "And you know, the fact that the first thing you thought of when I said that was Toy Story tells me everything I need to know."
"Oh fuck you," I say, with a sighing laugh. "We make fun of Nyx all the time, and he says that literally every other sentence. I've never even seen the fucking movie." I see the idea on his face before he says another word. "No. Absolutely not. No fucking way."
"Gotta."
"No, we are absolutely not watching that motherfucking movie."
He's already typing out a text on his phone.
“I swear to fucking god, Felix, if you text—"
Bloop. "Too late."
I check my wristwatch, knowing Nyx was just down the street as of a few minutes ago.
Whoop. I hear the incoming text alert from Felix's phone. "You're an asshole." I hold up my wrist, stare at the second hand sweeping around the face. "Five…four…three…two…one…”
"LET'S FUCKING GO, BITCHES!" Cody Nyx explodes into my office.
He's six-two, and I can’t remember the last time I saw him in anything but grease-stained gray coveralls, which he's wearing now, stuffed into heavy black rubber boots, a thick black Carhartt jacket unzipped. His hair is thick and black and curly and wild, not quite long enough to tie back; it’s an unkempt mess dusted with melting snow.
Of the four of us, he's built more like Riley—lean and hard, no matter what he eats, whereas I, now that I’m nudging up towards forty, have to watch what I eat if I want to keep my girlish figure. "Toy Story, Toy Story, Toy Story," he chants.
"What is it with you and that fuckin' movie?” I grumble.
Nyx unceremoniously deposits himself on Felix's lap, arms around Felix's neck. “Tis the ’tism, m'lord."
"The fuck are you talking about?" I growl.
"Well, I was talking to Cadence just now, and apparently, I may be undiagnosed autistic. Apparently, the whole thing where I get, like, super obsessed with specific things is a whole thing. So, like, Toy Story and my whole thing with cars and engines, and how I'm always fixating on something?"
I frown. "The phase where you taught yourself to speak Gaelic was a fun one."
"Or the trombone?" Felix says.
“He followed everyone around with that thing for weeks, doing sound effects,” I say, suppressing a smirk.
"Or his British crime show obsession?" Felix puts in.
Nyx holds up a hand. "That wasn't a phase. I still watch the shit outta some BritBox."
"Or gardening?" I say.
"Again, not a phase," Nyx says. "I love me some mothafuckin' plants. You bitches oughta see my garden at home. My roses could win awards."
I frown at him. "Bullshit."
"No, for real. Barbie got me into gardening.
It's soothing. Get your fingers in the dirt.
Watch things grow and become beautiful." He frowns.
"In fact…" he tugs down the zipper of his coveralls to reveal his T-shirt, which is pale yellow and features a 40s style image of a woman with a gardening trowel, and the words "Gardening, because murder is wrong. "
"And all this is not just because you're a weird-ass fuckin' fruit loop?" I grumble. "You're saying you have some kind of medical excuse for your weirdness?"
Nyx grins, stabbing an index finger in my direction. "Bingo, bubby."
"Wow. Just…wow." Felix's shoulders are shaking. "Thanks, Cadence. Now he's gonna be even more impossible."
Nyx frowns. "That's impossible."
"Exactly," Felix says.
I hold up my hands. "As amusing as this Who's On First routine is, both of you fuck off. I'm working."
Nyx lurches off of Felix's lap and, before I can stop him, yanks the computer power cord out of the wall.
"Not anymore, ya uptight hobgoblin. You, my good sir, are accompanying me to my domicile, whereupon we shall undertake a most pleasing viewing of the classic animated masterpiece, Toy Story. Posthaste and forthwith."
I sigh, covering my face with both hands. "Cody motherfucking Nyx, you absurd fucking goon. Plug my goddamn computer back the fuck in right the fuck now. I swear to fucking god, if you lost my progress on that expense report, I'll murder you myself and disappear your fucking corpse."
"Ooooh snap," Nyx says, "Daddy big mad." He yanks open the office door and leans out, shouting, "Sheriff Mannix just threatened to murder me!"
"Cody," I say, sighing. "Shut the fuck up."
Felix is eying me. "Dude, I've never seen you so tense. C'mon. Just…hang up the star for a few minutes, bro. You can't hide your feelings behind that badge your whole life."
I glare at him, but don't have a comeback, mostly because he isn't entirely wrong. "Fuck. Fine. Let's go before I change my mind."
I leave my computer unplugged because if I were to plug it in and turn it on, I'll get sucked back into work. I shrug into my jacket and sling my gear belt over my shoulder, tug my watch cap onto my head, and follow the guys out of the station.