Maddox smiled despite herself and typed back,“Dangerous. I’m working.”
Jade:“So am I. Still thinking about you, though.”
Maddox:“Can I see you tonight? Your place?”
Jade:“Mine? I thought we’d stay at yours.”
Maddox:“Changed my mind. I want to wake up in your bed.”
There was a pause, longer than usual, but Jade messaged back,“Okay, I’ll make us dinner.”
Maddox:“Don’t go through any trouble.”
Jade:“It’s no trouble at all. See you tonight after shift?”
Maddox:“See you around seven.”
Maddox set her phone down and stared out the windshield at the empty street. The sun was warm through the glass, the afternoon quiet except for the distant sound of kids on the playground.
She thought about Jade's apartment. It was smaller than hers, but brighter somehow. The way Jade had art on her walls, plants on the windowsill, and throw blankets that actually got used instead of staying folded on the couch gave it a homey quality. It was lived-in, in a way Maddox's house had never quite managed.
She thought about waking up there, Jade's arm across her waist as morning light greeted them. She thought about the drawer at her house, Jade's clothes folded next to her own. She thought about Zeus greeting Jade at the door, his tail wagging.
She hadn't said those three little words yet, but they sat in her chest, heavy and terrifying. Jade hadn't said them either, even though they'd both admitted to falling and being all in..
Maybe tonight,Maddox thought.Maybe tonight I'll say it.
Behind her, Zeus shifted in his compartment, letting out a soft whine. Maddox glanced back at him through the partition. "What?" she asked.
Zeus stared at her, his dark eyes unblinking.
"I know," Maddox said quietly. "I know."
She didn't know what she was acknowledging—the fear, the love, the sense that something was shifting beneath her feet. ButZeus seemed satisfied. He circled once in his compartment and settled back down.
Maddox returned to her paperwork, trying to shake the vague unease that had been following her since the committee meeting. Vanessa Torres's calculating stare and the way her instincts had fired warnings she couldn't pin down.
It’s probably nothing, she told herself. She chalked it up to just residual hypervigilance, seeing threats where none existed.
She finished her report, started the engine, and pulled back onto patrol.
Friday morning started like any other.
Maddox arrived at the station at seven o’clock, Zeus trotting beside her through the parking lot. The air was warm already, promising another hot day. Summer was settling into Phoenix Ridge early this year, the coastal fog burning off faster each morning.
She checked Zeus into the K-9 area, made sure his water bowl was full, then headed to the bullpen to start her shift paperwork. Riley was already at her desk, working through what looked like an incident report.
"Morning," Riley said without looking up.
"Morning."
Maddox settled at her own desk, logged into her computer, and pulled up her patrol schedule for the day. Standard route through the downtown corridor, school zone checks, then the afternoon K-9 demo at the community center. Nothing complicated.
Her email pinged.
She almost ignored it—probably another departmental memo about parking procedures or uniform standards—but something made her click over to her inbox.
It was an email from Chief Diana Marten with the subject line simply “Personnel Matter,” and a short message that said, “Please report to my office today at 10 a.m. Your attendance is mandatory.”
