Reign (Sin City Outlaws #1)(7)

Static sounds from the radio, catching my attention. “5paul69.”

Grabbing the walkie, I respond, “5paul69, copy.”

“5paul69, young woman is flagging down pedestrians on the side of Koval Lane, pink top, blonde hair.”

“5Paul69, copy that, en route.”

I put the walkie back on its receiver and speed up. I have almost made my quota of hours in field training, but for some reason Lieutenant Oaks wanted to drive around with me today. Lieutenant Oaks is also my stepfather. After I finish my 60 shifts of field training, I get to take over, drive by myself. I can’t wait; it’s been a moment I have strived for my whole life.

“So, why are you riding around with me today? Shouldn’t Joey be training me?” Joey is the field training officer in our department. He’s actually really laidback and easy to talk to.

Lieutenant Oaks’s fingers drum against his knees, and his chest rises with thought. His thin, black hair is slicked back, pieces of gray splicing through the front. Even for being in his fifties, he’s still in shape.

“First off, Deputy Adams, he’s to be called by his title. It’s Officer Hills, not Joey.”

My brows furrow with frustration, but I nod anyway. “Yes, sir.”

I knew better than to be so flippant in front of him. Around here, a deputy wears their rank with pride, since it’s all we got. Hell, ever since I was able to speak correctly, I was ordered to call him by his ranking. It was awkward as a child when I had to introduce him to my friends, but other than that I never really paid it much thought. He’s been my stepdad since I was five and taught me to live by the blue rules. I don’t remember much of my mother before she met my stepdad, but after they got married, I was introduced to a whole new family: the Clark County Sheriff’s department. To be one of them, and wear a badge… it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Hell, I even lost my virginity in the back of a squad car.

He rubs his thumb and index finger along his chin, the pads of his fingers rubbing against his five o'clock shadow.

“To answer your question, I ride with all the deputies when they are almost done with field training, I want to make sure they’re ready, since I’m responsible for you all.”

“Right, of course.” I nod, regretting my question.

His meaty fingers pat my arm tenderly.

“But that is just the lieutenant in me talking. The father in me, well, I’m nervous that you’re going to be on your own.”

I smile, the feeling of fatherly love almost too much. I know he cares, but all I care about is getting out there and showing my worth.

“Even after all these years, people still surprise me.” He shakes his head, his eyes wide as he stares out the front of the windshield. I follow his gaze and find a woman wearing flippers on her feet, like the kind you swim with, and a pink top that is three sizes too big hanging off one shoulder, exposing one of her breasts and her stomach. Her pants look like she tried to cut them into shorts, but they’re cut off right above the knee, making them a bit long. Her blonde hair appears to be dirty and tangled, and her legs are scratched up and bruised. She looks rough.

Lieutenant Oaks hits the lights, and the lady jumps where she stands. She slowly turns, her boney hand shielding her eyes as our lights beam on her without mercy.

Quickly, I unbuckle my seatbelt and step out, the mechanism sounding as I lock the car behind us. It’s one of the most important rules—always lock your car when you leave it. A couple years back, a deputy forgot this rule and had his car stolen. Not something you want in your file.

“What seems to be the problem?” Lieutenant Oaks hollers, one hand on his holster.

“Wha? I just-I mean. I ain’t doing nothing wrong.” She waves her hands around erratically, making me nervous. She appears to be strung out on something, and those types of people can be the most dangerous. They’re unpredictable, and often don’t know of their actions until they’ve come down from their high.

“Ma’am, can you please put your arms down at your sides and explain to us why you’re on the side of the road waving down cars?” I question, my voice holding a tone of authority to it. That took months of practicing.

Her dull eyes snap to me, and she sneers.

“Who da f*ck do you think you’re talking to, bitch?” She props her hand on her hip, and her other tit pops out of her top. Stepping up to her, a rancid smell swims past, making me hold my breath.

“You got some ID on you?” I ask, ignoring her insult. It comes with the job, and I’ve been called far worse than ‘bitch.’ Most of the degrading insults have something to do with a pig in some way.

“I don’t gotta tell you shit!” She turns to walk away, and I grab her wrist to stop her.

“Let go of me!” She tries to pull from my grasp, and I have to hold on tighter. She turns, her stance defensive. “I know my rights, you can’t arrest me!” she screams, the sour smell coming from her making me want to gag.

“I am not arresting you, I am detaining you until we get this figured out.” I push her toward the car and kick her feet apart to search her.

“I don’t have any drugs,” she informs.

“I didn’t say anything about drugs.” She goes still for the first time since we stepped out of the car. Half the time, you don’t even have to ask the suspects questions; they tell on themselves. “Do you have anything on you I should know about?”