Chapter 3 #2

Coughing out a laugh, Johnny said, “You are, without a doubt, the most disgusting man I have ever met.”

Taylor stuck out his tongue, letting several more pits fall into the bowl. “You love my imaginary parasite. Don’t deny it.”

Johnny bit the inside of his cheek. “I mean, if the parasite would like to contribute towards the rent, then sure.” His eyes dropped to the bowl, voice growing quiet.

“But… maybe rein in the weirdness for Falkington, yeah? We don’t know them, and they don’t know us.

The last thing we need is Professional Standards on our back again. ”

Taylor groaned, tilting his head against the wall with a soft pat. “I get it, okay? Belt, braces and a big fat smile for the new boss who will probably treat us like shit anyway.”

Johnny picked up the glass of water from his bedside table. “Oh, come on. It hasn’t been that bad at West Newton. If anyone asks, we’ll just say we moved because of professional differences.” He took a sip and gave Taylor a pointed look over the rim.

“What? And not because Major Crime got tired of treating us like their old wank sock?”

Johnny coughed, making water splash onto his bare chest. “Speak for yourself. I don’t recall anyone from the murder squad ejaculating inside me before throwing me under the bed.”

“You know what I mean. They used us for all the shitty jobs—scene guards, bag carrying, sifting concealed drugs out of literal shit, hospital watch. All the crap fucking things they were too precious to do themselves. Who wouldn’t fall asleep on the job?

Why did we even join? It wasn’t to carry the sergeant’s fucking bags, that’s for sure. ”

Johnny shrugged. “That’s what I’m saying.

We need to play our cards right, get our licences back then move to the city where the real action is.

Dingly will be good for us, everyone loves it when a police officer has a cup of tea with them and talks about noise pollution and yobs down the park.

Honestly, I think they’ll love us. We’ll make them love us. ”

Taylor cleared his throat. “They’ll love you. You’re way better at all that professional shit. I can barely hold a conversation. Guns don’t talk back.”

Johnny hummed. “This might be our last chance, you know?”

Sighing, Taylor dropped the empty bowl onto the floor and slid down the wall to lie next to Johnny. He was warm and solid against his shoulder.

“You remember why we joined, don’t you, JP?”

He did. Of course he did; it had been one of the most pivotal moments in both of their lives.

They’d been standing at a crossing in Slough, barely thirteen years old.

The lights had stopped working and cars were hurtling down the road.

Taylor had stepped out, chancing his luck and almost getting run over before a five-foot-nothing woman in a stab vest and fluorescent coat shoved him back and stepped out into the road.

She stuck up a hand and the cars just… stopped.

It didn’t matter that she was an omega, or a woman, or who she was or how she’d been brought up. All the drivers saw was the uniform and the complete authority it gave her. She’d saved Taylor’s life that day, and Johnny had never forgotten the way Taylor’s eyes had shone when he looked at her.

It was what had forced Taylor to start taking school seriously, applying to West Newton as soon as they turned eighteen. They didn’t get in the first time, but they did the second.

Letting out a breath, Johnny tipped his head so their temples were touching. “Yeah. But respect is earned, and we’ve got a long way to go before anyone will take us seriously again.”

Taylor hummed, tangling a leg around Johnny’s. “You good, JP? You seem down.”

Johnny raised an arm and stared up at the ceiling through his fingers. The light shone through the beaded bracelets and cast spots of red and green over their faces.

“I think Martin’s being bullied again.”

Taylor sucked in a breath and sat up. “You mean the nick on his ear? I assumed it was one of the girls.”

Johnny sighed. “It was William.”

“Manders’ kid?”

“Yeah.”

Reaching into Johnny’s bowl, Taylor grabbed a fistful of cherries and shoved them into his mouth. “Bastard,” he said with his mouth full.

“I know. I’ve a mind to drag him home next time he’s up in the woods. Tell his dad exactly what a little shit he’s raised.”

Taylor shook his head. “I meant Manders is a bastard. William’s just a kid.”

“Kids can be bastards.”

“I know, but if you do something like that there’ll be hell to pay for William. And Maman, probably. It’s not William’s fault his dad’s the scum of the earth.”

Johnny rubbed the back of his neck and sat up. “I wasn’t going to. I just really, really want to.”

“And what if your dad did that to me the first time we met?”

Johnny chuckled. “You mean when you punched me in the nose?”

“Yeah. I definitely wouldn’t be sitting here with you now.”

A small smile twitched Johnny’s mouth. “Nah, I invited you for dinner and then you never left.”

“Exactly. What goes around comes around. Sometimes you gotta meet violence with kindness.”

“Jesus, what self-help books have you been reading?”

“You know I’m right.” Taylor smirked.

Johnny stretched, nudging his knee. “Either Maman’s been on your case, or maybe there is some sense in that noggin of yours after all. Now, settle down or fuck off back to your own room.”

Taylor sniffed, glancing over at Johnny’s bedside clock. “Film?”

Johnny rolled his eyes. “Fine, but we are not watching Tropic Thunder again.”

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.