Chapter Four – Try Not to Cry
CHAPTER FOUR
Try Not to Cry
S hane and Jay look just as shaken as I feel.
My whole body is buzzing. I still don’t know how the commander knew we were about to get screwed by the review board, but he wasn’t bluffing when he said he was in our corner. I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful to anyone in my life.
After lunch, we’re back on street duty, and the difference is night and day.
All that time stuck at the station felt like time dragging. Out in the field, the rest of the day flies, and so do the next few.
Every morning, we show up to briefing with our jaws clenched and our body cams triple-checked. It’s become a ritual: audio confirmed, visual confirmed. We’re not taking any chances. If anyone tries to set us up, we’ll have the whole thing on record.
Between long shifts and the constant fear of getting fucked over, the weeks blur past in a rush. Suddenly, we’re in our final days in this city.
Greenster doesn’t have a single store with aegis-sized clothing, so on our last day off, we drive all the way to Pittsburgh.
We pick up proper clothes: something formal, not a uniform and not the beat-up civilian stuff we have at home.
If we’re meeting our potential nyra, we’re going to look like we’re worth her time.
Three days before leaving town, we finally remember to talk to Mr. Kent, our landlord. Technically, we’re supposed to give thirty days’ notice. Of course, we haven’t.
We’ve lived there for six years and never missed a single rent payment, but that doesn’t stop the man from throwing a fit the second we mention leaving early. He threatens to fine us until Jay tells him he can keep the furniture. That shuts him up.
We’re leaving most of our stuff behind anyway. The couch, the TV, the wardrobe: none of it’s worth taking. We pack only the essentials. Whatever comes next, we’re starting fresh.
The next day, as we finish our shift, Jay looks at Shane and me with barely contained anticipation. “Just one more day to go. I think we deserve a little celebration.”
We decide to go to The Brick there’s nothing here for us anymore.
The next morning, when we wake up, it’s finally March 20th.
We have packed our bags. Our plan is simple: go home after our shift, load the truck, and hit the road.
It’s a little over four hours from Greenster to D.C.
, so we’ll get there before midnight, check into the MAB’s housing unit, and get a solid twelve hours of sleep before the meeting in the afternoon.
When the clock finally ticks past the end of our last shift at Greenster Nine PD, I can’t believe it’s real.
We made it.
When we stride out of the station, none of us looks back. We go straight to our truck and speed home.
Everything feels distant, like it’s a dream: locking our apartment door for the last time, dropping the keys in the mailbox, loading our bags into the truck, the city blurring past us until it’s behind us.
All of it. Greenster. Nine PD. Balls. It’s all behind us now.
I’m so distracted, I don’t even notice I’ve been speeding for most of the way. Even after Jay makes us stop at a diner when we get into the city, we still check in at the MAB a little after eleven.
The housing unit they assign us is the nicest place I’ve ever stayed, and judging by the look on my brothers’ faces, they feel the same.
We lived in a MAB facility here in D.C. for two years, right after we got out of the Program, while we completed basic training before choosing law enforcement.
But those barracks weren’t anything like this.
The room is wide, with real space between the furniture, all of it clearly aegis-sized. The two big open windows make it feel like I can finally breathe. After years crammed into a human-sized station and a tiny apartment, this feels like luxury.
The couch is massive, and the nest is soft like a dream. I thought I’d be too nervous to sleep, but I pass out the second I hit the mattress.
By the time I wake up, it’s already past ten. Jay and Shane are still out cold, having crashed just as hard as I did. I crawl out carefully, not wanting to wake them.
We’ve been sleeping in a nest together for over fifteen years, and it’s always been Jay on the right, Shane on the left, and me in the middle. I can’t even remember when we fell into this setup, but now, everything’s about to change.
I can’t help but smile, wondering what it’ll be like to have a nyra curled up in the nest with us.
After I entered the strays Program, I never once felt the urge to contact my dads. But right now, if I had their number, I think I’d call, just to say, “Hey, assholes. Your discarded son’s about to have a match meeting with a Prime nyra.”
For the first time, I think about Lydia’s sons, my half-brothers. I never look them up, but they’re probably in law enforcement too. Maddie, my little half-sister, must be a grown nyra by now.
How wild would it be if one day, the poor stray half-brother shows up to visit as a Tier-One, flanked by his pack brothers and a Prime nyra?
I’m still lost in that thought when Jay and Shane wake up. We look at each other and grin like idiots. Right now, we’re three grown-ass aegis acting like giddy teenagers, and I don’t even care.
When we make it to the MAB cafeteria, breakfast is long over and they’re already serving lunch. We eat fast, not even Jay paying much attention to the food, then head to the administrative building.
The officer behind the computer has us sit in the waiting area. For once, the chairs are actually our size, but somehow, that feels weirder than the usual discomfort .
Time crawls.
And when one o’clock finally hits, nothing happens.
I glance at the guy behind the desk, but he doesn’t even look at us, just keeps tapping away at his keyboard. So we wait.
And wait.
By the time it’s almost two, the amount of soothing pheromones we’ve released to keep each other calm is so thick it’s like breathing syrup. I can’t take it anymore. We’ve been waiting for over an hour, we deserve an explanation.
I stand and approach the desk. “Excuse me,” I say, trying to keep my tone light. “Our match meeting was scheduled for one. Can you tell me why it’s delayed?”
He doesn’t even look up. “They’ll call you when they’re ready, Officer Larsen.”
I sigh and head back to my seat. My brothers glance at me, just as frustrated, but there’s nothing we can do. So we wait some more.
By three o’clock, my muscles are so tight I don’t know if they’ll ever relax again.
What the hell is going on? I’ve never been to a match meeting before, so I have no clue if this is normal or a really bad sign.
Jay breaks the silence. “Do you think this is some kind of test? Maybe they’re checking if we stay stable under pressure before letting us meet the nyra?”
That eases something in my chest. Back in the strays Program, they pulled shit like this all the time. “Yeah,” I murmur. “Could be.”
But a few minutes later, Commander Eneas steps into the lobby, and one look at his face tells me this isn’t a test. Something’s wrong.
I don’t feel my legs as we follow him into an empty room. There’s a long table with chairs and a video camera set up on top. We sit across from him and brace ourselves.
He looks at us for a long moment, and I catch something in his eyes I’m not used to seeing from other aegis: sympathy.
“I’m sorry, officers,” he says. “Despite having previously agreed to this meeting, the nyra didn’t show. As I’m sure you know, it is the nyra’s prerogative to withdraw from the match process at any point prior to the bonding bite.”
No.
No fucking way.
“Maybe something happened, sir.” Jay says, his voice tight. “I know you can’t give us her information, but could you try contacting her?”
The commander sighs. “We’ve been trying for the last two hours. Her phone’s off. It’s not common, but this isn’t the first time a nyra has backed out of a match possibility.”
He stands. “The Matching Center will continue trying to reach her. If she changes her mind, you’ll be contacted to reschedule. I wish you the best of luck.”
Then he’s gone.
We sit in stunned silence. I don’t know how long we stay frozen until a staff member comes in and tells us to leave.
So we do.
I don’t even know where we’re going; we just wander through the MAB grounds in a daze. I want to scream. I want to break something. I need to run, but the track’s inside the training center, and we don’t have clearance to use it.
So we just keep walking.
I only realize we’ve reached the gate when a woman’s voice cuts through the haze, sharp and furious, yelling at the pack guarding the entrance. I wouldn’t have given it a second thought, except for what she’s saying.
The human has courage, yelling her lungs off with her finger in the face of an aegis at least a foot taller than her.
“Look, assholes, I just drove for five hours, I left my kid home to help my friend out, just to get here and none of you can carry a fucking message? Is it really so hard for you lazy asses to walk over there and tell your people why she couldn’t make it to her meeting? ”
I stop cold.
Could she be talking about our meeting? I’m running before I know it, my brothers on my heels.
“Can I help you?” I call out as I approach.
The blond woman turns to me, still fuming.
“Oh, you can help,” she snaps. “My friend had an important meeting here today at one p.m., but she got involved in an accident last night. She’s in the hospital.
I tried calling your center, but all I got was some useless guy who says meetings can’t be rescheduled. ”
“How bad is she hurt?” Shane asks. “Take us to her!”
The woman whips her head toward him. “Oh, sure. I’ll just lead three giant strangers straight to my injured friend. Great idea!”
Smart girl. Shane’s not thinking straight. Neither am I, if I’m honest.
“You don’t understand,” Shane insists. “I think we may be the pack she was supposed to meet.”
“Then go back and tell your people to reschedule,” the woman fires back. “I’m not taking you to her.”
“Wait here,” I tell her, and I sprint back to the administrative building.
Shane and Jay don’t follow this time. I think they’re afraid the girl might leave if she’s left alone with the guards. I know I am. I need this girl to fix everything that went wrong for us today.
Once Commander Eneas takes over, we’re told to return to the housing unit and wait. I feel hope crawling back into my chest. After thinking everything was lost, we’ve got another shot. I’ll wait another lifetime if it means a second chance.
Less than an hour later, a MAB pack knocks on our door .
One of them speaks, and the words feel like magic. “The nyra you were supposed to meet today was hit by a car last night. She’s in stable condition and cleared to receive visitors. She’s agreed to hold the match meeting at the hospital. There’s a car waiting to take you.”
The black Chevy Suburban is cramped, filled with us and the MAB officers. The space feels even smaller because of the weight of what’s coming.
The drive is short, less than ten minutes.
When we step inside the hospital, reality slams into me.
This is it.
It’s happening.
Now.
The MAB officers move in sync, their coordination effortless — pack instinct. One of them speaks briefly with the front desk, then we’re led to an elevator.
Third floor.
When the doors slide open, Commander Eneas is already waiting.
He opens the door to an empty medical office and gestures for us to step inside. He doesn’t bother sitting.
“This is a highly irregular situation,” he says, tone clipped. “So I’m not dealing with any bullshit from you three. You follow protocol. Exactly.”
His eyes flick over each of us. “You’ll go in and out.
If she rejects you, you return to the MAB immediately.
No questions. You don’t speak to hospital staff, you don’t linger, and you sure as hell don’t come back here later.
If I find out you’ve come within a hundred feet of this building after a rejection, I will personally see to it that you’re locked in a disciplinary cell at the MAB until the nyra is discharged. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” I answer without hesitation.
Then I pause. “But… if she doesn’t reject us? If she’s our scent-mate, what do we do?”
To my surprise, the commander cracks a smile. “Then you try not to cry in front of her.”