Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“I meant to ask you a question about your team.” Free tried once more, and turned his body toward Hart’s, lightly brushing their legs together. Again, Hart made sure to move and give Free all the space he needed. He had no clue what to think of that.
“Shoot.” Hart was back to drinking club soda.
“SWAT headquarters is only five minutes away from our precinct. How come your team is not based out of there? That facility has state-of-the-art everything. I would love to walk through there.”
“I can always give you a tour of HQ.” Hart’s smile returned.
“Your office is amazing, too. You guys have quite an operation on the top floor, but I was just wondering, is all.”
Hart smirked. “Do you really not know why my team is in your station?”
Free was all ears, “No. Tell me.”
“Because if we’re already there it’s faster to sync-up and move if God needs us. We’re available to the other officers in the jurisdiction, yes. But, if God and Day are mobilizing for something big, then we’re with them. Always. The shake downs and arrests they do on the streets are handled pretty well by his enforcers, so we’re not needed often. But, we have to be there nonetheless.”
Interesting. “Damn. God and Day have their own SWAT team.”
Hart laughed loudly and brought his hand up to scratch the thick bush on his chin. Free licked his lips. “God does have a big damn head but he’s not that special. Any department with a task force based in it has some variation of a tactical response team in-house. My crew was stationed in headquarters a couple years back, but when precinct four got approved for God’s narcotics department, they moved us over there to respond with them faster.
“I’m just rambling on and on. No more about me. Let’s talk about you. How are you adjusting to working in a police department? No one giving you any problems, are they?”
Free loved how much Hart cared. “It’s been amazing. It’s so good to be back with Shawn again. I’ve missed him so damn much.”
“How long were y’all together at MIT? Which is damn impressive, by the way. I been meaning to tell ya that.”
Free was glad that Hart was so interested in learning about him for no other reason than wanting to know him better as a friend. Free typically had to be careful of who he befriended, and who’d sent them.
He told Hart more about his days in college and what it was like being him. That no one could be around him for more than five minutes and not ask him for some kind of favor. Tech was the very rare exception. All he’d wanted from Free was to learn. To be close to him. That seemed to be all Hart wanted too. To just get familiar. So far, he’d loved Hart’s timid, unsteady approach toward him.
It spiked his libido when he the thought of Hart’s massive size. He was feared on the streets anytime his men arrived on a scene. A huge, muscular man known for successfully diffusing the most violent, hostile situations to arise in the city, yet he taught a woman’s self-defense course because he was the only one they trusted to be gentle with them. Hart was safe and he could be trusted. No one had anything negative to say about him and Free found that to be extremely attractive.
The team started to move about the pub, some of them coming into the bar area to start more rounds. Free didn’t want to share Hart with his squad right then, he wanted more time alone with him. He was still unsure of where they stood. The fact that Hart couldn’t quite get his bearings around him should’ve told him all he needed to know. But, the way he’d recoiled at Free’s touch had him confused. If anyone came over to join them, the tone of their conversation would change.
“Do you think I can take a look at your bike? Maybe you can answer a couple questions for me.” Free asked, climbing off the stool. He quickly tossed a few bills onto the bar, almost giving Hart no choice but to come with him or sit there alone.
Hart stroked his beard, throwing an amused smirk at him—a combination that was enough to make his knees buckle. “Sounds like a plan.”
Free quickly turned and headed toward the door before Hart’s lieutenant could make it over to them. It was dark outside and the blazing Atlanta sun had left the evening extremely warm and muggy. Hart’s bike gleamed under the dim parking lot lights. Free fell in line beside him as they walked. They weren’t much different in height, but Hart was broader, firmer than him.
They didn’t say very much as Hart leaned against the side of the building in front of his bike while Free walked around it, lightly touching the shiny chrome handlebars and the firm leather seat. He squatted and checked out the intricate art work on the gas tank. When he looked back at Hart, he was staring at him as he knelt there, his fist clenched and his jaw set. Free stood. He recognized that expression. It was the same reflection of hunger he was feeling.