Adrenaline was already working its way through my veins, a calm washing over me as the engine roared from the acceleration. Streetlights blurred past us, flashes of red and green stoplights following.
“Should we request backup?” I asked.
“We’ll see when we get there. Pray it’s just a couple slapping each other around and we’re not walking into some fucked up slasher film set.”
One could only hope. “Roger that.”
CHAPTER 2
Terran
Coming up onto the address,a lone woman was sitting out on the front steps with her legs curled up to her chest, a phone pressed tight to her ear while she watched us from her spot. The house behind her remained dark, no porch light flicking on as TJ and I climbed out of the cruiser, nor any flickers from beyond the curtains drawn over the front bay window.
She was talking quietly, a few stray words catching my ear, “Yeah, they’re here… okay, thanks.”
“Evening.” TJ hooked both of his thumbs under his jacket and around his utility belt. He stopped a few feet from her, keeping a good ten feet away. “We got a call that there was something going on at this address. Were you the one who called that in?”
She nodded, the phone slowly falling away from her face. “Yeah…”
Outside of her shaking form, most likely from the thin set of PJ’s she wore, she looked unharmed. No red stains covering the front of her white button down, no bruising darkening her softfeatures, or twisting her hands in odd angles. When she stood, she wrapped her arms around her torso protectively, keeping in place on the step she’d just been sitting on.
The door to her house was pulled shut, no shadows dancing in the darkness beyond the paned window that faced into the entryway or signs that anyone else was inside for that matter.
“Want to tell us what’s been going on?” TJ asked.
“My boyfriend is really drunk. He came home late from drinking with a few buddies. His story wasn’t adding up on why he was so late, so I questioned him and he got aggressive. I think he’s also on something.”
“Aggressive how?” I asked.
Her shoulders hunched forward. “He, um… he was shoving and hitting me. He broke down the door to the bathroom when I locked him out. When he got it open, he dragged me out and threw me to the ground and told me he was going to stab me. Normally, when he gets drunk, he passes out, but for some reason he was really wired.”
“Does he have access to any firearms?” TJ stepped forward as he spoke, his hand coming out to gesture for her to come down from the front steps. “Weapons of any kind?”
Weirdly, she remained rooted to her spot, glancing up for only a moment when TJ drew closer. “No guns. We have some kitchen knives that are really sharp that I use for cooking.”
“Okay. Why don’t you come hang out by my cruiser for a bit. I’ll go inside and talk to him. What’s your name?”
“Naomi.”
“Naomi, I’m officer Riviera and this is officer Bishop, my partner. He’s going to be taking your statement while I go inside and talk to your boyfriend…”
She frowned. “His name is Thomas. He’s normally not like this. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s passed out rightnow on the couch. I can’t wake him up but he’s snoring so I know he’s alive.”
“Well, we’re here to figure it out.” I did my best to give her a reassuring smile, nodding back toward the flashing lights behind us. “Why don’t we get out of the cold for a bit. You look freezing.”
She glanced between us, wary.
Unfortunately, these things were all too common among domestic situations. A victim, out of desperation and self-preservation, calling us to come break up a violent fight and then feeling regret the moment we showed up and the potential for their significant other to get into trouble with the law was put on the table.
I’d seen it too many times living in the shoddy apartments with my sister and mother growing up—hearing the fights our neighbors had with their partners and the knock ‘em, drag ‘em out disputes that usually landed one or both of them in jail for the weekend—before she’d shacked up with my stepdad and gotten us into a nice high-rise over on the western side.
Sadly, that too, had come with its own set of consequences.
“We’ll get this all figured out,” I said.
Naomi’s arms tightened around her body for a brief moment before she slowly stepped down and onto the crumbling walkway leading up to her house. Her slippers had fine pills woven into the once fluffy fabric, the toebox stained from years of use. The PJ set she wore had a faded pattern on the front of it that was barely recognizable, clearly a favorite clothing item of hers.
She was tired looking, though pretty. A round face with full lips and long lashes, her eyes slightly narrow at the corners. Her hair was pulled back in a clip that was already partially slipping, leaving a few chunks of her dark hair falling down over her shoulders. She followed me toward the cruiser, her head trainedback to look over her shoulder while TJ approached the front door, a hand ghosting over his gun holster.
