Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
It was a big change, and there’d been initial resistance, little grumbles about extra hours and body cam requirements, but everyone enjoyed the end results along with the trust and gratitude of the community. He was proud of the work they’d done.
He and Hugo made a good team. And the more time they spent together, the harder it became to ignore what was happening between them.
Brainstorming sessions over Chinese takeout led to subtle acknowledgments of mutual attraction. Eye contact that lasted a minute too long, bodies brushing past each other at work and whispered confessions of need that eventually turned into long kisses and desperate caresses in the shadows. It stretched on for more than six months.
He knew they had things to sort out, but when Hugo handed in his letter of resignation without warning, everything in Solomon’s dedicated, regimented world turned to shit.
He couldn’t focus on his work. He wasn’t sure how many days he’d wasted attempting to get Officer Wayne back on the job. People assumed there’d been a work-related incident and Solomon let them, hoping to elicit the sympathy of Hugo’s friends, hoping they’d convince him to return.
He’d been obsessed. Distracted. Not fit for duty.
A few months after resigning himself, he’d tracked Hugo down at the hospital. That was when it finally hit him. He was too late.
Hugo no longer wanted to know how he felt. He’d already moved on.
“This is guilt, Younger. That’s all. Guilt that belongs in the past. I didn’t quit because of us. You were a piece, but you weren’t the whole puzzle. I’m where I’m supposed to be now. I make a difference here doing something I love.”
“You loved what you did before, and you always made a difference, but guilt is not what I’m feeling. I am guilty, but that’s not why I’m here. Damn it, I’m not saying this right. Let’s go someplace private and talk. I need to tell you—”
“You already told me everything I need to know. You made your choice, Chief. You made it over and over again, but I was too stubborn to pay attention. I let whatever this was linger long enough to make me feel foolish. Put my life on hold waiting for… I can’t do this with you. We both deserve better.”
Years spent side by side with a man that made him laugh, made him think and made him hard just by breathing, and he’d lost him for good. All because he’d denied himself in a way no one else in his family would understand. Not his brothers. Not his cousins. They’d all gone after what they wanted and grabbed on to their happiness with both hands.
Solomon had fumbled the ball.
He climbed his porch steps and opened the front door to his house, letting William follow him in. The cell phone on his kitchen counter was ringing, but he made no move to answer it.
“Want to get that?” William shucked off his wool jacket and pulled out his shirt, fanning himself with the fabric.
“No.”
“Go on. I can wait outside if you need privacy.”
“I’m good.” Solomon scowled. “Everyone that matters has their own ringtone.”
William chuckled. “That doesn’t sound like something you’d do on your own. Was it Jake or Brady’s beau that helped you out?”
“Because I’m so old?” It was his cousin’s son, Jake, but there was no way he was admitting to it now.
“Of course,” William agreed swiftly. “Why are you avoiding your phone at all? It could be Publisher’s Clearing House, or your AARP. You’d think an elderly gent with so much free time would jump at the chance for distraction.” It kept ringing. “Oh, maybe someone’s taking a poll.”
“Keep it up, I dare you. Just remember who runs faster.”
William held up his hands in submission and backed up toward the kitchen. “Trying to show an interest. Forget I said anything.”
“I’ve been getting a few calls from people I knew…before.”
“Old cop buddies?”
“I guess.” Solomon shrugged. “Haven’t felt like grabbing a beer lately. It’s easier not to answer.”
Old friends from the force and current members of city council had been calling. Some said they wanted to talk old times over a beer, some wanted him to handle things he had no control over anymore, but all of them sounded suspect. They were holding something back, and he had a feeling he didn’t want to know what it was. Avoidance, not discretion, seemed like the better part of valor.
“I need to take a shower. Unless you want to tell me now why you really stopped by.”
“Right. I’m gonna have a fry up,” William said from the kitchen, pointedly ignoring him.
Solomon climbed the narrow staircase to the sound of his refrigerator being ransacked by his cousin, stripped out of his damp shirt and sweatpants, and headed toward the bathroom.
When the shower sputtered to violent life, he grimaced. He really needed to call someone about the plumbing soon.