Page 14 of For Life
The date with Ant had been a big step for me. I’d mostly dated guys outside of the city. I went to Berkeley for college, and though it was just a bridge away, it felt like freedom to explore. Taking Ant for coffee, touching them and kissing them on the street of the same city as my job and family, that had been a giant leap.
It hadn’t felt like kissing women after a first date. At least not like any of the women I dated. They had all felt nice, but perfunctory, and I hadn’t wanted to come on too strong. Kissing Ant was a whole other thing. Fire and want pulsed through my veins in a way I’d never felt before, with any gender. From the beginning of the date, Ant had been unapologetically queer, even having the word emblazend on their shirt. It didn’t bother me at all, and I wished I had their ability to be themself so openly. They made me want to explore all kinds of things… And that brought me back to my current predicament.
“Don’t have a boyfriend, too busy banging your sister,” I threw back at Matlock, insults being the only way he didn't respond with anger, oddly enough. “Are we going out on patrol, or what?”
Matlock laughed a little too loudly, his pot-belly bouncing as he stood. The man was only forty-one, but he looked sixty. Even standing he was only to my height when I was sitting. My sister called his behavior a Napoleon complex, I called it being an asshole.
“You’re too tired and distracted, I’ll do it myself.”
“Alright, I’ll look into cases that needed someone on them,” I told him, glad to be rid of him for a couple hours.
“Naw, you should look into cases that might be mafia-affiliated. These foreigners are always getting into trouble.”
Spending my time on repeat offenders, like those that hit women and children, and drug dealers who laced the product with fentanyl, was tedious and exhausting work. But it wasn’t my area. “What, like the Bratva? I thought they’d gone legit?”
“No, the Italians and the Yakuza,” Matlock’s expression turned into a cruel smile, “You got an in on them in your family?”
“I’m Chinese, not Japanese,” I held back from rolling my eyes at work, because I’d told him a hundred times. “And you’re not supposed to go out on your own.”
“I’m no rookie, I can handle myself. You just keep your pretty little self busy on those files.”
Something in Matlock’s tone had me feeling suspicious, like he really didn’t want me going with him. To be honest mafia families fighting wasn’t what I would work on. I became a cop to help people. I couldn’t stop a bad man from hurting people, and I felt useless most of the time. “Your funeral if the Captain finds out.”
Turning back to my desk, Matlock didn’t even say goodbye, just grabbed his jacket and headed out towards the garage. My work was still going to be hard to focus on, but a few hours less around him could only be a good thing. I was a pre-law major in policy studies, and thought policing would be more effective in the long term. Instead I got to watch as public defenders helped the poor and helpless. Between my partner being a douche canoe, my not coming out because of the toxic environment, and the fear that I was hurting instead of helping… It made me second guess my choices.
While going through endless reports, and thinking about how little impact I’d had compared to what I thought, I didn’t notice my boss walking up to me.
“Where is Matlock?”
“He is…” The captain noticed, and it wasn’t going to be on my head. Switching to the tracking app on my desktop, I see he is around the corner from Shepherd’s Kitchen. Odd. “In the Mission.”
Captain Brown did not look impressed, “You should be shadowing your senior partner.”
“Yes, sir.” Closing out of my programs, I stood immediately, “Though Matlock has the car.”
“Guess you’re hoofing it, Wu.”
My captain wasn’t an unreasonable man, but he did like to give us these little life lessons through experience. I could only imagine what he went through to be a black man in the force for over thirty years until he had the higher rank.
“Yes, sir.”
Heading out from the front door, I thought about the term,sir. Did I want to be called Sir? I was used to it with polite people and the new crop of rookies, but not in the bedroom.
My mind was back to thinking about kink as I made my way south on foot, ignoring the catcalls and insults hurled my way. I wanted to say, “You’re right, black lives do matter,” and “Racism is systemic,” but my camera was on and I could get called in on a reprimand. The system was rigged and I was walking towards a big reason why. My mood tanked from my tangled thoughts about my job and partner.
Maybe I could stop by and say hi to Ant if Matlock had moved on already. That would lift my spirits. I knew he was on the lateshift, cleaning up after the dinner hours. We had been texting a couple times a day in anticipation of our playdate. And it was such an odd term, like we were in pre-school and our moms would watch over us. But this playdate sounded like it would be a lot more fun and adult than juice boxes in the sandbox.
A bang rang out and I paused, recognizing a gunshot. And if I wasn’t mistaken, a SIG Sauer .40 like I carried. Not unusual in that area, but it sounded like it came from the direction I was heading. Pulling my gun out, I ran towards the sound of yelling, knowing I’d have to report in.
“This is Officer Wu, on foot, reporting to the sound of a gunshot near Capp street. Possible officer involved shooting. Please send back-up.”
As another shot echoed towards me, my first instinct wasn’t to see if my partner had been involved, it was to check on Ant.
Chapter ten
ANT
DANCINGAROUNDTOPOPmusic was my favorite way to end the day. I’d sent Maria and the others home, telling them that I had the time and the shorter commute. It was true, only about twenty stairs up. Living upstairs made me more conscious of how sound traveled, so I didn’t blast it like usual.