Page 52 of Fire and Smoke (Nothing Special #9)
Day
Day came through the precinct’s glass doors behind his husband, boots dragging, helmet dangling from his fingers.
He had one hour to peel off his gear that was drenched with sweat, hit the showers, and down some coffee dark as motor oil and thick as syrup.
The bullpen erupted into applause as they walked past—it looked as if every officer on the night shift was in the office—all of them pounding their fists on desks. Someone let out a long, shrill wolf whistle that grated through his mind like sandpaper on raw nerve.
Day appreciated the support, but goddamn, he needed some peace and quiet…and to lie in bed for a month.
Ruxs grinned, slapping Law’s shoulder so hard he nearly toppled him over.
“Told ya we’d make the evening news!”
Day was glad his team felt good, but before they could enjoy the praise, reality dropped on him like a two-ton weight.
The chief of police was talking to the deputy mayor and about three or more of the city’s council members outside the department’s conference room.
If the bigwigs were there at this time of morning, it wasn’t to deliver good news.
Day shook his head. He was out of all fucks to give.
God
God settled into a chair in the precinct’s largest conference room, arms folded, back aching, eyes gritty.
But beneath the exhaustion, a different ache pulsed in his chest.
He needed time alone with his husband. He’d ignored Day long enough.
The job had devoured every spare hour, every piece of him he should’ve been giving to the man he loved. And after tonight, God wanted nothing more than to put all his focus on Day, to prove he was the most important thing in his life.
Day had been fucking incredible tonight. A warrior at his side. Unwavering and fierce.
He spoke of being tired and worn, but he didn’t move or fight like he was.
Now he sat four feet across the table from him…too far away.
God couldn’t stop staring at him. Even dog-tired, his husband was gorgeous. Sexy as hell.
His damp hair was pushed back, eyes shadowed, smelling like clean soap and something warm and familiar that always lured him in.
All God could think about was getting him home, drawing him a steaming Epsom salt bath, and sliding his hands over every hard line of his body, massaging away the ache and stress that’d been there for months.
Then he’d make slow, gentle love to him until they both forgot the criminal world existed. He’d hold him tight in his arms until morning and wake him with breakfast in bed…that he’d have DoorDashed.
He was lost in that perfect future until a sharp voice cut through his fantasy like a rusty blade.
“ Lieutenant Godfrey.”
He blinked hard.
An IA senior officer stared at him over a pair of black-rimmed glasses.
“I asked you a question.”
His husband gave him a subtle wink as if he’d known exactly where his head had been.
His team was lined up around the table, looking worse for wear, but always strong and ready.
Free was at the front, remote in hand, about to press play on the video feed from their helmet cams, drone angles, and body footage.
“Why did you decide to breach and deploy a full-on assault instead of waiting for Mercer to leave?”
God rolled his eyes.
“Because we noted too many heat signatures. I’d never take that kind of fight onto the streets and risk innocents getting caught in the crossfire.”
“Let’s just watch the footage,” his captain said.
Every angle showed clean takedowns, all nonlethal rounds, no casualties, full recovery, and Mercer apprehended.
Just how they’d planned it.
And IA was still trying to sink them.
One pencil-thin IA agent leaned forward, voice nasally, pen tapping the table. “Godfrey, your men never announced the warrant before breaching.”
God shot him an exasperated look. “Oh, you mean in between the hail of gunfire. I did produce the warrant, but it was blown out of my fuckin’ hand by a semi-automatic.”
A ripple of laughter from his team went around the table.
The inspector from the commissioner’s office, who’d been outraged over Vasquez’s beating, was seated near the back. He cleared his throat. “Gentlemen, let’s keep this serious.”
The IA idiot glared back at him.
“Inspector Joshi, stay in your lane. You were brought in for one reason. Stick to it.”
Day glared at Joshi.
“And what lane is that, exactly? So far, all I’ve seen you do is stroll around the precinct in thousand-dollar suits and stare people down like you’re a bachelor scoping out prospects.”
Before Joshi could answer, Ro burst in, tossing a stack of files that slid halfway down the table.
“Interrogated two of the big buyers. One from Houston, the other from Miami. Both claim that Mercer set them up.”
God narrowed his eyes. “Mercer flipped?”
Syn shook his head. “Not as far as we know.”
Joshi scanned over one of the files before noting, “Your last two operations came up empty, Lieutenants. This one fell right into your lap. Mercer and all the big players. That’s a helluva coincidence.”
God pfftd. “Ever heard the saying: don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?”
The smooth man shot back, “Yeah, well, that’s one fat-ass gift horse.”
Ro pointed at his files.
“Mercer told them he had inside info, and that it was safe to meet for the deal.”
Free shook his head. “Fox and I scoured every call log. Nobody inside gave him shit.”
Captain Murphy leaned forward, tone steely, back straight despite the dark circles under his eyes. “Are you seriously trying to turn the biggest win this city’s seen in years into a fuckup?”
The IA lead stood and gathered his notes.
“Godfrey, Day, your unit will be audited, effective immediately. The task force is suspended until further notice.”
For a beat, silence hung heavily around the table.
God cracked a slow grin at his husband, getting a slow nod in return.
Ruxs clapped his hands hard. “Good! Because we’ve got nonrefundable tickets to Cancun next week.”
Green stood and grabbed Ruxs’s hand and dragged him toward the door. “We’ll see y’all on the next go round.”
“I just need you two to do one more thing,” his captain said. “The deputy mayor is holding a press conference at nine. After that…take some extended leave.”
God leaned back in his chair. Fuck yeah, I am.