"This is such bullshit," I mutter.
"Watch your mouth," Morrison warns. "You're already on thin ice. Don't make it worse."
Hayes is practically gloating now. "Forty-eight hours. Good luck finding a biker who'll help a cop."
He's right. Rookie made his position crystal clear. He hates cops. Hates the badge. Hates everything I represent. There's no way he'll voluntarily walk into a police station to give a statement defending me.
But I have no other choice.
"Fine," I say, straightening my spine. "I'll bring him in."
Morrison nods. "Dismissed. Both of you."
I walk out of the office, my face burning with humiliation and anger. Hayes follows, leaning in close as we exit.
"You're done," he whispers. "No biker is going to save your fat ass twice."
I whirl on him. "Call me fat again and see what happens."
"What? You'll run to another criminal for help?" He smirks. "Face it, Collins. You don't belong here. You should've stayed wherever you came from, kept your chubby little body out of uniform where it belongs."
Every insecurity I've ever had about my appearance crashes over me again. The way the uniform doesn't fit right. The curves that should be hard lines. The softness that should be muscle. Men don't notice me because a chubby cop isn't anyone's fantasy.
Except Rookie noticed. Rookie got hard.
The thought steadies me. I lean closer to Hayes, dropping my voice. "At least criminals have standards. You're just a predator with a badge."
I walk away before he can respond, heading for the locker room. I need to change out of this uniform, need to get these soaked panties off before someone notices, need to figure out how the hell I'm going to convince a biker who hates cops to walk into a police station.
The locker room is empty, thankfully. I strip quickly, peeling off the uniform that clings to my curves. My panties are soaked through, and I touch myself briefly, just to confirm what I already know. I'm swollen, sensitive, aching.
One brush of my fingers against my clit and I nearly whimper.
I've never been this turned on. Never. And it's for someone who despises me, who made it clear we're not friends, who probably only helped because he hates Hayes more than he hates me.
I clean up quickly and change into jeans and a t-shirt, stuffing my uniform into my locker. The jeans are tight on my thighs, emphasizing the curves I hate, but at least they're not a uniform broadcasting my failure to everyone who sees me.
My phone buzzes. Mom.
*Just checking in, sweetie! How's the new job?*
I stare at the message, my eyes burning. I call my parents every two days, maintaining our close relationship even after moving to Blackwater Falls. They're so proud of me for becoming a cop, for following through on my promise after they were mugged and no one helped them.
What do I tell them? That my partner sexually harassed me? That I'm on administrative duty after one week? That my only hope is convincing a criminal to help me?
*Good,* I text back. *Settling in. Talk soon. Love you.*
I pocket my phone and grab my bag from the locker, heading out to the parking lot. My car sits where I left it this morning: a lifetime ago, before Hayes put his hand on my leg, before Rookie punched a cop for me, before my pussy started throbbing for a man who hates everything I stand for.
The drive home is short, just ten minutes through downtown Blackwater Falls. I barely register the Victorian houses or the small shops. All I can think about is the impossible task ahead of me: convincing Rookie to walk into a police station.
My apartment is still half-unpacked, boxes stacked in corners, pictures leaning against walls waiting to be hung. I drop my bagby the door and head straight for the bathroom, stripping as I go. The jeans hit the floor, then my t-shirt, then my bra.
I catch my reflection in the mirror and pause. This is what Rookie saw—endless curves, thick thighs, full breasts, the stomach that's never been flat no matter how much I exercise. The body that makes uniforms fit wrong and men look away.
Except he didn't look away. He stared. His eyes devoured every curve, and his cock got hard enough that I felt it through his jeans.
My pussy clenches at the memory.
