More laughter.
“Okay, calm down. Calm down. The actual chance that you have an STD? 33 percent repeating.”
There it was. The light bulbs. Bright, shining, illuminating their young, eager, horny faces.
For fuck’s sake, Tristan was right. You just had to speak on their level.
Now Ivy glanced to the upper left-hand corner of the class. Saw Zeke.
His face was red, bordering on purple.
The smile on Ivy’s lips grew.
Good—fuck him. He’s an asshole.
Do you know whomyfather is??
?Chapter 21
Darnell hadn’t takenVaughn’s advice to lay off the booze. The smell was back—sweat and alcohol.
Or maybe it never left.
The cans had returned, though.
“Darnell, time to go.”
Darnell didn’t fart, snore, or hiccup. He had no reaction.
“Darnell?”
Worry set in and Vaughn shook the man’s bare shoulder. He stirred. Opened his bloodshot eyes.
“Time to go, Darnell.”
A simple nod.
No jokes today. No silly outfit.
Recalling Darnell in his underwear sporting only his police belt inspired Vaughn to look around for it. Like yesterday, the belt was on the side table. Except today, the holster was empty.
When Darnell slowly started to rouse, Vaughn saw the gun.
It was lying in the bed beside the mostly naked man.
Darnell noticed his partner’s gaze. Didn’t offer an explanation other than, “Rough night. Gimme five.”
Vaughn left the room, started coffee again. Didn’t bother cleaning up.
When Darnell emerged from the bedroom, Vaughn handed him a cup.
“Hey,” Vaughn began, staring at the pitch-black liquid in his to-go mug. “I think—”
“I’m going to get help, Vaughn. After this case.”
Things had never been this bad. Vaughn had heard stories about the type of detective that Darnell had been prior to the tragedy, but they were difficult to believe.
This man? Once a prized PPD detective?
