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strange relationship with honesty that I’m still sorting out. She is at once direct and evasive, and of fucking course, it all just messes with my head. She was hot the night I met her. Crazy, beautiful, and witty. But now that I’m getting to know her, it’s more than that. She’s more than that.
    I pour myself a cup of coffee—black with more sugar than is necessary—and suck it down. The hot liquid burns my throat upon its descent, but it’ll be worth it once the caffeine does its job. I take a look around and find the Chief at the front of the room writing on the dirty whiteboard. In bold, black lettering he writes THE COLLECTOR with a line through it to signify that the arsonist/kidnapper the papers have dubbed the Collector has been caught.
    My eyes dart around the room, wondering who else has noticed what the Chief is doing. It’s Hennessey who notices first. He slaps the table in front of him and jumps out of his seat as he shouts excitedly. The rest of the house joins in, happily cheering about the capture of the Collector—the sick bastard who held those women captive that Jack got the award for saving. He was still at large at the time of the event, but since big brother made the papers, the entire NYPD stepped up their game to find the fucker. It’s about time, too. We can put out the fucking fires he starts, but it’s better for everyone if the cops can do their job and lock these guys up so they can’t keep putting the entire city at risk.
    “All right, calm down,” the Chief says. He throws his hands in the air and laughs heartedly. He keeps on urging the buzz in the room to quiet down, but it takes a while. We’re all pretty tired and ready to head home at shift change, which makes us restless. Well, most of us. I’m just fucking exhausted. I’ll tell Jack I’m happy for him later. The Chief drones on and on about shift changes, reminders to follow protocol, and the importance of safety first. Roger Delgado is a good guy, but he’s the chattiest chief we’ve had. When he’s finally done, he excuses us to go back to what we were doing. I make my way downstairs to the lounge area and lay down on the couch in the center of the room. Hennessey and Luke, our cousin and one of the house’s lieutenants, follows along with a few other guys.
    I’ve done everything I’ve needed to do this shift, so I take a much-needed time-out before I’m on house watch. Normally I don’t despise house watch that much. It’s pretty chill, getting to sit at the front desk and shoot the shit with folks. We’d normally have a proby or a volunteer do it, but we’re short on both. On a good day, a couple badge bunnies will stop by and break up the monotony of the position. Bonus points if they’re tourists.
    The guys chatter about random shit that’s happened during shift. I tune them out as best I can and finally feel myself slipping out of my foul mood when Smokey jumps onto the couch and curls up on my stomach. I love this little dude. I must drift off quickly, because I don’t even realize I’ve fallen asleep until I’m suddenly awake and totally disoriented. Smokey jumps off my stomach and onto the back of the couch, then disappears. I blink rapidly, unsure that I’m seeing what I think I’m seeing.
    Across the lounge is Melanie. She’s got a casual outfit of jean shorts and a fitted tank with a pair of Converse and a large flat white box in her arms. Her curvy frame fills out her clothes nicely. Too nicely and too much skin for her to be hanging out with the assholes here.
    Hennessey is practically standing on top of her and reaching for the white box. She pulls it away and laughs. The sound goes straight to my gut, so familiar and comfortable that I almost know it the way I know the rhythmic beating of my own heart. She laughs a lot and smiles even more. Royal’s had her at Mom and Dad’s house five or six times in the two months since they’ve met, and every time she’s there, I find myself