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Quote by A. E. Via

“Syn watched Day look around at his lack of furniture ... or pictures ... or art ... or decorations ... or any other amenities that made a house a home. “Oh good. It looks like we didn’t miss the housewarming party. Are you registered?”

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A. E. Via

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“A fucking cop.” “What do you have against cops, man? They protect and serve,” Doug argued. “Yeah they serve and protect other people, not people like me.” “What do you mean, people like you?” Furi pushed his fists into his eyes and winced at the memories. “When I was first beaten by Patrick. He’d cracked two ribs, busted my lip and given me a black eye. I had other bruises on my legs and back from being kicked repeatedly. All because that motherfucker thought it would make him a man. After sex he had to do something to feel like he was in control. I got myself to the hospital and after I was released I took a cab to the police station. I was going to file a restraining order against Patrick. But the cops, they, they ...” Doug noticed Furi was shaking and scooted closer to put his arm around him. “Shhh. It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it.” Doug rubbed soothing circles on Furi’s shoulder. Furi nuzzled in close to Doug and was immediately calmed by the contact with his friend. “It’s fine. The cops there wouldn’t help me. It was because I was gay, I know it was. They looked at me with disgust on their faces. Cops are fucking homophobic as hell. There I was, all banged up, begging for help but all they were concerned about was my sexual preference. The bruises meant nothing. Like they felt I deserved it.”

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“Syn tightened his seat belt as God drove like a damn lunatic through the city. He was now on the interstate doing over a hundred miles an hour. “If the person’s already dead, what’s the damn rush, Cash?” Day grumbled, obviously not liking God’s driving either. God ignored his passengers and swerved over four lanes, cutting off an eighteen-wheeler and just missing the barrier as he took the exit ramp at seventy. “Got a real heavy foot there, don’t you Lieutenant?” Syn gritted through clenched teeth. God let out a grunt as sharp green eyes caught Syn’s reflection in the rearview mirror. Please just watch the fucking road.”

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“I have the reports from Gemson and Boyd,” Syn replied. His boots were up on the corner of his desk as he reclined back in his chair, skimming the contents of the file. “How are they?” God asked. He removed his leather coat and draped it over the back of his chair. “Detailed. Good,” Syn answered. He brought his feet down and gave God a pointed look. The big man shook his head, already knowing what Syn wanted. He wanted everything they knew about this case. Now. “Alright Syn. Chill out. We’re not used to you yet. But we know what it means to have a Sergeant on our team. You’re the team's go to, and have just as much command and input regarding decision making as we do,” Day responded as God stared. Day chuckled. “Tito was just as important as the other Jacksons.” Syn threw a pen at Day, which he dodged easily. Syn couldn’t help but laugh at Day’s fucked up comparison. “I’m no fucking Tito, shithead.”

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