Bastard.
"Captain Staunton decided that in the current era, with the public hypersensitive to even thementionof excessive force from police officers, it was better that I remain out of any headlines. Although most of my 'incidents' are situations that could be construed as rough but not excessive, this was not one of those times. So it would cast a bad light on all my previous infractions," I recited, because the words were burned into my brain. I could still hear the regret in the normally stoic, no-nonsense, slightly bastard voice of my captain. "And so I will be suspended indefinitely, without pay, until everything can be investigated properly, and then I'll find out the results."
Annoyance and anger flashed across Mason's face. He glanced away, looking confused, his eyes sliding up to frown at the sky like he was trying to find the answers there. He sighed, "Really? The years of hard work being thrown away sounds like standard bullshit, but really? The public would say you beating the fuck out of a child rapist was too much?"
I had made the same point, and Captain Staunton had pinched the bridge of his nose, "In the years before, yes, probably. But we're dealing with a time whenanyviolence from officers comes under heavy public scrutiny. If this catches attention, thousands of amateur sleuths and lawyers will be eager to prove you didn't actually know that's what he’d done, that the man was never given the chance to defend himself, let alone admit to it. They'll then point out the previous shit I've given you hell about for years, but they'll make you look like abomb waiting to go off rather than a good man who doesn't know how to control his temper sometimes."
It had been the first time the captain had said something about me personally that could be taken as a compliment. He'd complimented mywork, but never me personally. It was then that I knew just how deep in the shit I was. Because that was the whole problem, not that I was in trouble, but I was right now swimming in shark-infested waters with a seal corpse tied to my back. And he was worried enough to say something nice about me.
God, I really was in the shit.
I relayed what the captain had said to Mason, leaving out the significance of the compliment. Mason was a lot of things, but telling him something like that just felt...weird. I wouldn't even tell Kayden, but he'd known the captain long enough to notice how weird it was. But the rest, my uneasiness at the compliment, the implications that had dread sitting on my chest since the realization? Those were things I'd keep to myself.
"Fuck, I hate that he's got a point," Mason growled, turning to smirk at me. "And what did he say when you lost your shit and told him that at the end of the day, all that's bullshit and no way were you going to back down because you mauled a predator?"
I stared at him for a moment, then looked away.
Mason paused, then softly said, "You didn't...did you?"
I hadn't.
"You didn't do anything close to that, did you?"
I hadn't.
"You stood there and let him say that shit. You bowed your head, and you said 'yes, sir' and left."
I had.
"Wow, I..." He turned to face away from me, and I readied myself for the inevitable.
I was pretty sure there was nothing he could say that would be worse than I had already said to myself. I had stood there and listened to the captain basically tell me I was a dangerous liability, a hothead who shouldn't be allowed to serve, and was told I was practically in the unemployment line as a disgraced cop.
And I had done...nothing. I had bowed my head and taken something I knew in my heart wasn't true. But I had still done it. Which made no sense, none. I knew I deserved better, that I had done enough to be given more grace, more respect than to be told to slink off into the shadows quietly and hope I had a job when I came back. But that was what happened, that was what I had done, and now I didn't know what to do.
I believed in doing the right thing, I believed in righting the wrongs of the world, and I believed in justice. But time and time again, I found the world telling me I didn't understand how to do those things. Even now, here with Mason on what should have been a fun night, I had managed to twist that good thing and taint it with my anger and bitterness. Having the captain lay the facts out before me made me realize that the same thing had happened to the job I loved, that I believed in.
Had I let it happen because deep down I knew I wasn't the person I wanted to be, the one that was fit for that job...that duty? Or had I let it happen because some part of me knew I was doing it wrong...again. And maybe...just maybe, there was a part of me, wary and mocking, like someone else I knew, who pointed out that maybe both were true and not at the same time. Maybe I was looking at things wrong, and I should stop being so stubborn and look at the puzzle in another way.
I stiffened when Mason turned around, and blinked when I saw no judgment or anger in his face, but sadness. He reached out and took my arms in his hands, squeezing them. "Look...I’m sorry, alright?"
"You didn't do anything," I said slowly, unnerved by his strange touch. Not that he couldn't be gentle and easy-going, but it was...a lot like the night he'd taken me up to his room after my breakdown. It wasn't just gentle, it was...tender.
He smirked. "Not often I get to hear you say that."
"Yeah, yeah."
His hands slid to my hips and rested there, the gesture comforting and casual. "But I know this is a big deal for you, and it would be for most people in your shoes. You didn't say everything, and you don't have to; I can read between the lines well enough to see how bad this is...and could be. And I'm sorry your heart is getting broken."
"Dramatic," I repeated because that one word was all I could manage without my voice sounding weird. It felt like I was trying to talk around the knot in my chest, and I hated that he had put it there. I loved it because it felt so close to a clean hurt, but all I knew was that it hurt, and I wanted him to stop.
I wanted him never to stop.
Damn him.
"We take turns," he said with a chuckle, leaning forward and kissing my forehead.
I blinked at him, reaching up. Instead of rubbing off where he'd kissed, I touched the spot gently. "This is?—"
