Bestfriends Shouldn’t Know How You Taste

Bestfriends Shouldn’t Know How You Taste Chapter 71

Chapter 71

“Did it slip the captain’s mind that I have a toddler  waiting for me at home? I can’t work overtime.” I  grumble as I bring the cup of coffee to my lips.

God I needed that bitter sweet liquid.

“I don’t think captain Steffen cares.” Nate snorts, kicking  up his feet on the white desk.

I rolled my eyes, placing the cup down on the surface of  the desk.

“He should care because I was the one who made it  possible for him to become the captain that he is today.”

It was true. I was selected to become the next captain of  the department but I turned it down. All for one reason,  my family.

If I had taken that role I would not be able to spend  much time with them as I wanted to. My family is my life,  I can’t stay long without them.

So I turned down the role and recommended Steffen.  Who happened to turn out to be an a*s.

“Officer Waters there’s a call for action at Willow street.”  One of the new recruits ran up to us.

I groaned staring at the ceiling. “I swear that area is the  devil’s spawn.”

I turn to stare at the younger man. His sandy blonde hair  cropped short, brown eyes wide with alarm. He looked  comical but I refrain from laughing at his expense.

“Anything else we need to know before we go there?” I  questioned opening the drawer to pull out my gun. Nate  does the same as he stands up.

his head. “They did not give much intel, only  that it was a young

exact destination of the  crime?”

 what she got when she tracked the number that

nodded and quickly pushed the gun in my duty belt.  “Must be some poor girl who

road bare. She had been raped and battered. The lad  who found her was too late, she had been dead hours

me.” I grunted opening the

I see. I tear my  eyes away and open the

they’ve gotten here before us.” I nudge my  head to

hell happened here? Whatever it

until something  familiar caught my eye

I see the motorcycle I gifted my first

Blake had spray painted

the old house  when the paramedics

you can’t just

 heed to Nate’s words. “You can’t go in yet.” Another

that  white cloth. “Is that my son, is that my

Black hair. A sob rack over me until I peel off  the rest. I sighed. It

a boy inside there? Dark haired boy?” I asked  one of the female medics in

“Yes there’s a bo-“

churn with unease and my chest gets heavy  with anguish. There lies my son, soaked with blood as  they

I whispered not believing that it was indeed him.  I hear a shout of protest then

He whispers painfully when his eyes

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