She speeds down the street, tires squealing, and I’m shocked she had the nerve to come here like this. It’s obvious to me now that she thinks she’s above the law—the law I swore to protect with my life. Naively enough, I believed the temporary restraining order would have kept her away, but I was foolish in thinking that. If I have to have her arrested for violating a court order document, I will. Enough is e-fucking-nough, but I have a feeling this has only just begun.
I sit in my truck and compile my thoughts before I head to the gym. Once I’m there, I run as hard as I can and it’s just me and the music. Highway to Hell plays on repeat and somehow it seems more fitting today than usual. I spend a good hour running and lifting weights and before I head home, I text Courtney.
D: Hey, sweetheart! Just wanted to tell you I was thinking about you.
C: Aww! Well, I was just thinking about you, too.
D: Yeah?
C: Uh-huh. It was totally inappropriate, too.
D: Tease!
I head home, take a shower and get dressed for work. I feel anxious about leaving Courtney alone knowing Mia is on the loose, as crazy as that sounds. If I could take her to work with me, I would. She’d hate it, but at least I’d know she was safe.
I can’t help feeling like I’m living in some kind of twisted twilight zone.
After I leave Courtney a sweet note on the fridge, I grab a Ziploc bag of her blueberry muffins. I laugh, thinking she’ll notice and call me out on it because there aren’t very many left, which is both a good and bad thing. If the fridge is full of muffins, it’s a dead giveaway she’s stressed, but we eat them almost every day. It’s a double-edge sword.
I set them on the counter as I mix a protein shake. As the sound of the blender drifts through the kitchen, all I can think about is in two days I’ll be off and Courtney and I can spend time together. It’s the only thing that got me through my shift last night, and I’m sure it’ll be a reoccurring thought until Thursday.
Since I have time, I sit on the couch in the living room and flick on the TV. It’s strange, but I can’t help but notice something is off, like someone has been inside the house. I instantly stand up and look around. The lamp next to the couch is nudged just enough for me to notice. I almost text Courtney but I don’t want her to worry. Before I leave, I search through the house, making sure Mia didn’t somehow find a way in.
By the time I make it to the station, the muffins are room temperature, and I pop one in the microwave and pour a cup of coffee. As soon as I walk back to my locker, the Sergeant Officer on duty, Ashton, stops me.
“Fisher, you’re being reassigned to a temporary project starting now.”
I almost drop my coffee and muffin. “Okay?”
“A light-duty project,” Ashton clarifies.
“What’s with the change, sir?”
“Check yourself, Officer Fisher.” He narrows his eyes at me and I know it’s best to do as I’m told.
I suck in a deep breath and release it, but I’m furious about this. “Yes, sir.”
“You’ll be due for a meeting in fifteen minutes so you can obtain information for your temporary reassignment.”
I give him a head nod and walk away thinking how much today sucks. Never did I imagine when I walked in today I’d be reassigned. It’s total bullshit and if I had the balls to speak to the Lieutenant on duty I would, but I don’t want to be seen as a crybaby who can’t take commands from an upper officer. After I eat two more muffins and drink a full cup of coffee, I enter the conference room and Logan turns around with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“You bastard,” I say. “I should’ve known you were up to this.”
All he does is smile. “You can’t live without me, literally.”
COURTNEY
Directly after work, I meet Viola and Kayla at a cute Mexican restaurant that serves drinks with umbrellas and has a live mariachi band. By the time I made it through rush hour traffic, they already had drinks on the table and greeted me with a smile and a wave from the back of the restaurant. Viola stands up and gives me a big hug and I plop down next to Kayla and give her a side squeeze.
“I told them we’d be here a while.” Kayla leans in and gently bumps me with her shoulder then sips her pink drink.
“I don’t doubt that one bit,” I say just as the waiter arrives with a big smile on his face and more chips and salsa in his hands. I order whatever Viola is drinking and am relieved to be hanging out with them. These girls are the definition of girl squad. After a while, I glance over at Kayla who’s yawning and realize she looks exhausted.