Sin City Uniform 01 - All Fired Up (14 page)

While all that had gone on between them, his Captain had stepped away. He reappeared with the Fire Marshal.

“Alan’s giving you a ride back to the station, Trent. We’ll discuss this further when I get back.” He turned to Shawn. “Thank you for your quick action, but we’ve got everything under control now.”

The Captain was politely dismissing him. As much as he had his own anger inside over what Trent had just done, he wanted to reach out to him, talk with him. He knew whatever was going on was related to his fears about what had happened with Paul, but he couldn’t reconcile how extreme he’d reacted. For him to endanger his position at work, something else had to be going on.

A lump formed in his throat at the thought that Trent might actually mean what he’d said about them being done, but he told himself it couldn’t be. They’d been so happy, growing so close. There had been discussions about Trent’s need to protect him, his fears, but that had all seemed to have been worked out. He spotted Vicki.

He was aware that the confrontation between him, Trent and the Captain hadn’t gone unnoticed. Those emergency workers still gathered around pretended not to see him, but he was mindful of them glancing his way. Maintaining his composure as best as he could, he walked toward his partner. Her expression almost did him in. She had compassion etched on her face. It made him think that what Trent had said must be true. That he really was done.

The last thing he was about to do was fall apart in public, so he cast his gaze to the ground. He couldn’t risk losing control. She reached him but thankfully didn’t mention anything about Trent.

“Just got a call about some working girls who were trespassing at The Venetian. They’re still lingering around the front. Management wants us to talk to them.”

Shawn nodded, looking down the expanse of the Las Vegas Strip. His new city, new beat. It was filled with wild, crazy and happy people most of the time. Opulence and splendor surrounded him. But there was an undercurrent of decay that the casual observer or temporary guest didn’t notice. The sadness of people who lost themselves to a gambling addiction—alcoholism, drug overdoses. People selling their bodies to survive or to try to cash in on big money. Lovers torn apart by a bullet. A man unable to let go and find happiness again.

Perhaps Vegas was no different than Los Angeles. It was merely dressed up prettier.

He hadn’t slept even one minute. Wasn’t sure when he ever would again. Fire and Rescue had returned from the hotel incident and had informed him that the Captain was still wrapping things up. It was difficult to decide who he was more anxious about facing—his boss or his best friend. They were both going to tear into him.

At least Lee can’t take my job away.

But it wasn’t his job that ate away at him. It was his words, his behavior toward Shawn that gripped his insides and wouldn’t let go. For almost an hour after he’d been deposited back at the station by the marshal, he’d been in the same state as he’d been at the fire.

Overcome with anger at Shawn for putting himself in harm’s way once again. It had been combined with the terror he’d experienced when he’d spotted Shawn running toward the flames without any protection.

The engine had barely slowed when he’d jumped down, ready to tear after his lover.

Lee had been the first to try to stop him, but the Captain had stepped in. He’d needed Lee to do what Trent wasn’t doing—his job. By the time Shawn had returned from saving the security guard, Trent and the Captain had been arguing.

‘You’re here to do a specific task, one that doesn’t involve you rescuing your lover who has his
own responsibilities to the Force. I’m not putting up with this anymore. We’re going to have a serious
discussion about your future with the department when all this is over.’

Then he’d unleashed all of his frustration on Shawn. Pushed him away. Told him in so many words that they were finished. He could feel the emotion welling up inside him at the thought of losing Shawn in a different way than what drove his fears. It wasn’t fair to keep pulling the shit on him that he did. He deserved more than that. Shawn was a hard-working police officer with a promising career ahead of him. He didn’t need a boyfriend with emotional baggage continuously humiliating him, treating him as though he were incapable.

He winced at the truth of his own thoughts. Would he want someone inferring that
he
couldn’t do his job, that
he
was incompetent? That was what he’d been doing to Shawn and his lover had put up with him anyway. He cared about Shawn a lot like he’d told him. It was obvious to Trent that he had some serious issues to work out before he could really be with anyone. Until then, it was best for all involved if he stayed alone.

The rumble of the garage door downstairs heralded the return of the engine. He collected his mug that had held old coffee in it to take to the sink. All he’d done since returning from the scene was sit in the kitchen, drinking the vile brew, mulling things over.

The TV had provided an occasional mild distraction, but his thoughts had drifted to moments with Shawn—ones he might not ever experience again.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs and he knew he had hell to pay. It was after four o’clock in the morning, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. Lee, Jamal and Ed poured in, Captain Sawyer on their heels. Everyone filed past him, none meeting his eyes—not even Lee. The Captain stopped when he got to him. He reeked of smoke, his eyes red rimmed. It was clear the man was exhausted.

“Go to bed, Marshall. I’m not doing this now. Be in my office at ten in the morning, got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

He rinsed out his cup and put it in the dish drainer. Glancing toward the sleeping area, he contemplated trying to get some rest. The thought of going in the room he typically shared with Lee and Jamal left him queasy. He turned and considered the couch. At least in there he could let the bad television lull him into numbness.

The couch it was.

* * * *

Multiple texts and voicemails had gone unanswered in the week since Trent had exploded at him in front of everyone. Shawn had wavered back and forth between anger and misery. The emotion that currently took precedence over the other two was sadness. He’d assumed that after Trent had calmed down, they’d have a chance to talk. That didn’t appear to be the case.

He’d found out through Vicki that Trent was on ‘vacation’. She’d confided in him that the talk she’d heard centered on it being a forced vacation. It explained why Shawn hadn’t run into him at all during the week, despite Station 32 being called out to a number of incidents where he’d been present. Despite some of the anger he still held inside about what Trent had done, he also had some twinges of guilt. Although he knew he wasn’t responsible for Trent getting in trouble, the fact that he’d been the inadvertent cause of it made him feel bad.

He’d decided to take a few days off to get his head back on straight. There hadn’t been an opportunity to do so any sooner. But the new recruits needed some on-the-job training and Vicki had volunteered to partner up. That had allowed him to request a couple of vacation days. So far, his plan to pull himself together hadn’t been very successful. All it had done was give him the chance to contemplate why the deterioration of such a new relationship had hit him so hard.

I’m falling in love with the fucker.

Their last weekend together had definitely been lust-driven, but there had also been a lot more to it than sex. There was an ease and comfort he’d never experienced with anyone before Trent. A natural, unforced compatibility. A mind-blowing connection. That triggered the anger in him again. Was Trent that stupid that he would toss all that away over the risks Shawn took because of his job?

It wasn’t that he was unmindful of the agony Trent had gone through because of Paul’s murder in the line of duty. But Trent had acknowledged that he’d been overreacting and had assured him he’d work on it.

His cell went off and he picked it up, wondering if he was being called in after all. He’d let the department know he wasn’t leaving town, that he was only going on a ‘staycation’.

Checking the caller ID, he almost dropped the phone. It was Trent. His hands shook and he waited so long to answer it, the phone went to voicemail. He stared at it. Contemplating.

Questioning.

His first instinct had been to call him right back, not even listen to the message. He’d stopped himself though after thinking about it. It would be such a girl move, one he’d never had the urge to do before.

The gym. Head to the gym. Shake it off.

After throwing some workout clothes in his bag, he blasted out of there, anxious to let go of the compulsion to chase after Trent. The hour and a half he worked himself into a lather did take the edge off. If nothing else, it knocked the wind out of him enough that he wasn’t as desperate to talk to Trent. Sort of.

He reflexively checked his cell. No new calls. There was a message that he knew was from Trent. He frowned at his evil phone. It stared back at him, mocking.

Perfect. I’m losing my mind.

Gathering his things, he thought he would see if Vicki might want to meet up for lunch or coffee. He needed to speak his thoughts out loud and she’d be the perfect sounding board for that. There was a lot to be said for blunt.

He waited until he got to his Rav4 so he could keep the conversation private. Even though he knew it was her day off, he had no idea whether she had any plans or not. He turned on the AC while he sat in the SUV so he wouldn’t fry while he called. She picked up right away.

“Feeling social?”

“In a manner of speaking. You had lunch yet?”

“No.” She sighed. “I can see where this is going. You buying?”

He snorted. “Sure. Can I use you as my fake therapist?”

“Why not. As much as I was really looking forward to doing the laundry, I suppose it could wait. Ernie’s Taqueria?”

“I’m not that far. I’ll head over now. Whenever you can get there is fine.”

“Order me an iced tea.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Asshole.”

They hung up and he headed to the downtown area. It was more old school and the casinos much smaller—but just as colorful. He’d been there less than fifteen minutes when Vicki arrived. They went through the motions of ordering some food and making small talk while they ate. She’d finished her taquitos and leaned back in her chair, nibbling on some of the chips from the basket between them. He’d spent the majority of the time poking and prodding his soft fish tacos. They were his favorite, but his stomach hadn’t stopped turning all week.

“Out with it.”

“Sorry.”

“Fuck that. What’s the Trent update?”

He sighed before he could stop himself. He glanced up in time to see her narrow her eyes at him.

“There’s not much to tell. I’ve sent several texts and left a couple messages since last week and he didn’t respond. Until today.”

“And?”

“I let it go to voicemail.”

“And?”

“Jesus. I don’t know, I didn’t listen to it.”

“This is the most boring update I’ve ever heard. Washing my
chones
would’ve been more interesting.”

“Please. No underwear stories.”

“Why am I here, Shawn? It’s obvious you wanna talk about something. And you look pathetic. Just sayin’.”

He frowned at her, but knew she was right all the same.

“I want him so bad, miss him. I don’t want things to end. He never gave us a real chance.”

“And I’m sure he realizes that.”

“But what if he called to tell me to leave him alone? That we were really over and to quit bugging him?”

“You are such a girl.”

He cringed. “Yeah. I’d been thinking that too.”

“Then get over yourself and listen to the voicemail.”

“But what if—?”

“Pigs fly? Could happen. In the meantime, deal with this. It’s not going to go away. If he’s too stubborn or messed up to see love right in front of him, then he’s not worth your effort.”

He almost gasped. “Love? I never said—”

“Oh shut up. Check your voicemail.”

Staring down at his mangled lunch, he knew she was right about everything. He met her eyes. Now that he had the chance to talk things out with her, he was anxious to get home to listen to the voicemail. He wanted to be alone in case it said something he didn’t want to hear.

“So get outta here.”

Giving her a grateful look, he rose from his chair.

“Thanks Vicki. I really appreciate it.”

“Hey, anytime you wanna buy me lunch is fine. Next time try not to do it when you’re so mopey though.”

He chuckled. “It’s a deal.”

* * * *

The drive back from the taqueria was tension packed. He was anxious to hear what Trent had to say and terrified all at once. Meeting with Vicki had been the right call, though.

As he pulled onto his street, he could swear that Trent’s red truck was parked in front of his building.

I’m really reaching now.

He almost slammed on the brakes when he spotted Trent in the vehicle. He had his head bowed, after which he glanced up, facing forward. It was obvious he hadn’t noticed Shawn. His brake lights went on, indicating he was about to pull away. Without thinking, Shawn honked his horn.

Trent’s head whipped around and they locked eyes for a brief moment. Shawn held up a finger as he drove slowly past, hoping Trent understood that he wanted him to wait—that he would wait. He was in forward motion, deciding he would save the musings over whether he was acting too eager for later.

By the time he’d parked in the underground garage and made his way to the front, Trent was leaning against the wall right outside the security doors. Instantly, his heart seemed to jump into his throat, and his breathing sped up. He wanted to shake his hands out, deplete some of his nervous energy, but Trent was already looking his way.

As he opened the door for Trent, he had to avert his gaze. Where he’d desired to be open and vulnerable to him before, it felt too dangerous under the current circumstances. He dared to lift his head and catch his eyes long enough to not come across as if he were a beaten dog.