Page 67 of Finding Noah

“Uh …” I cleared my throat and gave my head a quick shake. “It's good. A little slow, but, you know …”

Patrick chuckled. “Get used to it, kid. Why do you think I harass my wife all day at work? Not much to do around here.”

“Yeah, until someone's psycho bio dad decides to break down the door,” I muttered jokingly, making light of my past because if you couldn’t laugh, what the hell else did you have? Depression? Addiction? A futile battle with psychosis?

Patrick shook his head, looking unamused. “Not funny, Noah. Come on. You know your parents don't like you jokin' around like that.”

“Yeah? Well, guess what. They're not here,” I pointed out. “And right now, you're not my dad's buddy. You're—”

“Your boss,” he said, smirking as he clapped a hand against my shoulder. “And I say, knock it off with that talk. We can get ya on the streets soon, if ya want, but I'm tellin' ya, there's more to do here than there is out there.”

“More bad guys out there,” I countered, turning my attention back to Meg, who was watching me now with a knowing smile tugging at those rosy lips.

“Trust me, kiddo,” Officer Mike said as he tore open a Milky Way, “there ain't no bad guys out there. And we like to keep it that way.”

He doesn't know that, I caught myself thinking.

But didn't he though? He'd been at the job for as long as I was aware. Hell, I didn't know how old Sergeant Kinney was, but I was pretty sure Officer Mike was even older. I was the new kid. The young blood. Maybe I'd been sold a pipe dream of stopping the evildoers when I applied to fucking River Canyon instead of Hartford or New Haven, where the activity would be more abundant. What the hell difference was I going to make in a place like this?

“Don't listen to him,” Meg said quietly. “He has no idea. He hasn't moved from that desk in his entire career.”

“I heard that, missy,” Officer Mike said.

She ignored him with a dismissive wave of her hand. “If you want to get out on the street, you will, and I promise, there's stuff out there for you to do.”

I nodded because, of all people, she and her dad would know, wouldn't they? She picked up the calls, and she sent her dad to save lives. It was what they did, that dynamic duo, and it was their footsteps I wanted to follow in.

“You're growing a beard,” she commented, unexpectedly changing the subject.

“Huh?” I raised my brows, like I had no idea what she was talking about, when it suddenly hit me, and I rubbed my palm against my chin. “O-oh, right. Yeah, I thought it'd be a nice change. I feel kinda like a, uh … a kid trying to look like a grown-up, but … you know …” I shrugged, laying both hands in my lap and swiveling a bit in my chair.

Her gaze lingered on my jaw, my mouth, before she nodded. “No, it is. A nice change, I mean. It looks good.”

I couldn't help but grin. “Yeah? You think so?”

She nodded, tightening her hold on that gigantic tote bag she always carried. “I do.”

“I guess I'm keeping it then,” I replied, continuing to swivel from side to side while wondering what the hell was going on and why she was still standing there and how I could force facial hair to grow faster.

Her eyes danced across my face for a moment before they dropped to my chest and the badge I now proudly wore. Then she nodded, seemingly to herself, before touching her fingertips to the edge of my desk.

“I'll see you later, okay?”

“You know where to find me,” I said, tipping my head and smiling.

Her hands wrapped tightly around the straps of her bag. “Right back at ya.”

“Maybe we’ll do lunch together,” I boldly added before she could walk away, “if you don’t have other plans.”

Slowly, she began to nod. “That’d be nice.”

Then she did walk away, holding her head down as she rushed past the other officers—including her father, who watched her hurry down the hallway to her office with the other two 911 operators they kept on hand.

When she was gone, Patrick's eyes lingered on the empty hall for a moment before looking back at me. And where I expected him to look angry, maybe even territorial, he only raised a brow as he wandered over.

“Mason,” he said in a commanding tone, planting both hands on the edge of my desk and leaning forward.

I cleared my throat and straightened in my chair as I looked up into his looming face. “Yes, sir?”