Truth Avenged (Green Division Series Book 1) Read online

  “I see that.” Tuck walked to the door.

  “She’s just as broken as you, you know.” Kerr had spent a great deal of time with her during the aftermath of the plane’s discovery.

  “You almost sound like you care. You were the one who told me what a piece of shit I was when you found out I was involved with her.”

  “We all make hasty judgments.” Kerr made snap judgments. “What you did isn’t kosher by the rulebook, but I understand.”

  “The rulebook was right in this case.” Tuck closed the office door behind him.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Two months passed. Nothing further in the case had developed. Jason hadn’t been spotted since. He’d done well to drop off the face of the earth. Truth be told, they didn’t search as hard for him as they should. He wouldn’t be charged for his actions other than leaving the scene.

  The Tranton grocery store was empty for a Friday evening. Dressed down in his tattered hat, vintage tee shirt, ripped jeans, and shoes, Tuck was as unwardenly as humanly possible. He rounded the meat aisle and picked through the steaks. His cart was bachelor food—pizza, chicken wings, French fries, healthy all American foods.

  Two men stood talking beside a grocery cart ahead. One was Paul. What the hell were the odds? He stared at him unconsciously and Paul caught him. Tuck’s eyes didn’t wander. Paul walked toward him with the look of a man on a mission.

  “Paul, stop! Leave it alone!” The man with Paul pleaded.

  “This will be fun.” Tuck said to himself. He, unlike Paul, had to think of his job. He’d like to flatten Paul, but he needed to move on and let it pass. That chapter was over and closed.

  “You are the biggest flaming fucking asshole in the history of this god damn earth.” Paul poked his hand into Tuck’s chest. Tuck’s face turned red.

  “Get your hand off of me.”

  Paul’s face matched Tuck’s.

  “Paul, don’t do this.” The man with Paul begged.

  “I’ll meet you at the checkout Jon. Me and warden boy here need to have a talk.”

  “Warden boy…” Tuck repeated lowly. “Watch your mouth pretty boy.”

  “You’re the one who needs to watch himself right now.”

  “She’s all yours pal.” Tuck was livid underneath.

  “You aren’t very intelligent are you?” Paul poked his hand in chest again. That intelligent line had been used several times lately, coupled with asshole.

  “If you’re okay with her fucking around and settling for you at the end of the day—”

  Tuck didn’t have time to react from Paul’s lightening hook. Tuck dropped to the ground. Two old ladies moved as fast as they could into the next aisle, but watched intensely.

  “You are so god damn blind with jealously you don’t see it. She’s too damn good for you.”

  Tuck recovered and got to his feet, pushing Paul away from him.

  “And you’re a better man?” He yelled.

  “Better than you any day of the week.” Paul said confidently.

  “I’m not fighting you for her. You can have her, she’s all yours.” He wouldn’t give up his career for her again. Walk away. Just walk away Tuck.

  “You’re wrong about her.” Paul pointed his finger at him. “And if I wasn’t worried about going to jail, I’d kick your ass.”

  “That was a lucky hit. It won’t happen again, I guarantee you.” Tuck wiped the blood from his lip. “Enjoy your life with her. Good luck with the faithfulness issue.”

  Paul walloped him a second time. This one wasn’t as easy to recover from. Tuck attempted to get up, but Paul kicked him back with his polished wingtips. Paul didn’t have the look of a fighter. Looks were deceiving.

  “I don’t need to explain myself to you, but I’ll put this in context. Jonathan is my partner. I’m in a loving, devout relationship with him. HE is my lover. Not Chance. Chance is my best friend. She loved you. And you cop boy, are a fucking idiot.”

  “What?” No, had he said he was gay? Tuck must have misheard.

  “I said, I’m not fucking Chance. She’s my friend. I’m gay. You’re a fucking idiot. Good night.”

  Paul walked away satisfied. He’d been wanting to do that since Chance collapsed on the floor overwhelmed with emotion. It was the first time in all the years he’d known her that he’d seen her so upset.

  “God that felt good.” Paul said to himself proudly and met Jonathan at the front of the store. Jon had checked out and gave him a disapproving look.

  Tuck lay flat on his back recovering from Paul’s blows. It was the first time he’d had his ass kicked and he wanted so badly to return Paul’s hits, but he’d take a few punches rather than getting his ass in trouble for assault, regardless of whether it was deserved or not.

  You are a fucking idiot, Tuck.

  “Are you alright? Should I call the police?” A man from behind the deli counter asked.

  “No, it was a misunderstanding, I’m fine.”

  He pushed his cart to the side and found a restroom to clean himself up. He splashed water on his face and the sink turned red. Paul knew how to box, not what he would picture from the delicate gimp. All the things he said to Chance came flooding back at once. He should be elated that Paul was her friend, not her lover. But, it didn’t matter. He’d burned that bridge, torched it flat. Even if he wanted to grovel, he wasn’t to have contact with her for four months. Tuck held a bloody wet paper towel to his lip and stared at himself in the mirror. This would be fun to explain.

  Tuck emerged from the bathroom and a Tranton officer met him at the checkout. The few witnesses collaborated Tuck’s version, that he hadn’t assaulted the other man involved. Tuck told the officer he didn’t wish to press charges. Of course they took Paul’s name and were going to further follow up. Now he’d have to explain his injured face to Kerr, but that wasn’t his primary concern.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  “You did what?” Chance grabbed Paul’s bruised hand. “You didn’t!”

  “He had it coming to him.”

  “It doesn’t make it right.” She let go of his hand. “You really hit him?”

  “Twice.”

  “You’re lucky they didn’t arrest you!”

  “The Tranton Police paid me a visit.” Paul scratched his head. “I didn’t think that part through.”

  “Obviously.” She crossed her arms. She wasn’t a happy camper. “He didn’t press charges?”

  “No. He told the Tranton Police it was a misunderstanding.”

  Chance’s face eased.

  “How bad did you hurt him?”

  Paul sat down in his cushy leather chair.

  “Not bad enough.”

  “Paul!”

  “The only thing I hurt was his pride. I told him I was gay.”

  Her eyes widened. She closed Paul’s office door and flopped into an office chair. No one in his office knew, but perhaps since he’d let it out to one person, he wouldn’t hide any longer. He and Jon led a very private life together; they didn’t flaunt it, or show their love outside of close friends and family. Chance wished they didn’t feel as though they needed to hide.

  “You told him? Why?”

  “Because you aren’t what he thinks you are.”

  “I don’t care what he thinks of me.” Chance became defensive.

  Paul leaned forward over the desk. “You shouldn’t, but you do. I told him because he needed to know what a prick he is. He deserves to feel guilt for hurting you. I put him in his place.”

  “It wasn’t your job to put him in his place.”

  “You weren’t going to do it.” She stared back at him. “Go back to work before you start throwing things at me. I see you eyeing that lamp.”

  “I’m not violent, unlike like you.” She walked back to her desk and opened her laptop. She’d finish the two news pieces she’d been working on and call it a night.

  In a way Chance was glad Paul told Tuck the truth. But the other half wondered what w
ould happen. She didn’t want to see him again and hoped with all of her heart that he would keep his distance. She’d been through enough.

  *****

  Tuck’s lip was swollen, his eye blackened. Kerr said little, other than this drama needed to end and Tuck should press charges. Tuck didn’t explain, but said he had it coming to him. He caught up on his reports for a few days and then had a few days off. The Department wasn’t keen on him working in public with his bar brawl like battle wounds. He couldn’t cover them with a hat as easily as his previous injury. He’d driven half way to Chance’s house after having his ass handed to him, but turned around. With all that transpired, it would take more than a simple sorry to win her back. He’d given himself many a headache trying to figure out how to remedy the problem and kept coming back to doing nothing.

  Ryan and Mitch let themselves into Tuck’s house. They were bundled up as though they’d been on an Artic expedition.

  “Brrrrr, it’s cold out there.” Ryan brushed the snow off his jacket. Mitch set the 18 pack of Sam Adam’s down.

  “Your face looks as bad as we heard.” Mitch said.

  “It’s not that bad.”

  Ryan laughed. “What did the other guy look like? Oh, right, he knocked your ass out.”

  Tuck rolled his eyes. “Did you come here to throw salt on my wounds?”

  “Nah.” Ryan opened the bottle. “I came here to get away from the little lady.” Ryan grabbed the television remote and made himself at home turning on a University of Maine Black Bears men’s hockey game.

  “Are the rumors true? You got decked by Chance’s boyfriend?” Mitch and Tuck sat together at the table.

  “I didn’t get decked, he landed a few lucky shots.”

  “He knocked your ass out pretty boy.” Ryan said smiling.

  “Shut up, Ryan.” Tuck said.

  Ryan angled his body around. “You know you want to tell us, so get it on with it.”

  Mitch hitched up an eyebrow at Tuck.

  “Paul isn’t her boyfriend.”

  “Plot twist.” Ryan stood. “She dumped him for you?”

  Tuck opened the Sam’s and downed it in without pausing for breath.

  “That’s not a good sign.” Mitch commented at the rate the beer disappeared. Tuck set the empty bottle on the table.

  “Paul’s gay.” He opened another Sam’s.

  “What?”

  Ryan laughed and took a seat beside Tuck.

  “The man you thought she was screwing while she was with you is gay? Where was your gaydar detective?”

  “Shut up Ryan.” Mitch and Tuck said in unison.

  “Are you sure?” Mitch asked.

  “He had his boyfriend with him.” Tuck wrapped his lips around the second bottle.

  “Woah.” Mitch said.

  “Was he cute?” Ryan chimed in.

  Tuck pushed Ryan.

  “He’s gay…” Mitch repeated.

  “Yeah.”

  “What are you going to do?” Mitch asked.

  “Drink another dozen of these.”

  “Amen. That’s sounds like a plan.” Ryan clanked his bottle to Tuck’s. “Who needs women anyway? Paul has the right idea.”

  “You make us wonder some days,” Mitch addressed Ryan, “which team you really do play for.”

  “Jackass,” Ryan threw back. Ryan couldn’t take it as well as he dished.

  “Even if she would talk to me, I can’t try for another four months.” A third bottle sat empty in a line in front of Tuck. “She should have told me he was gay. None of this would have happened.”

  “Women.” Ryan commented again. Mitch shook his head at him; he was the annoying pet of the group.

  “Talk to her, when you can.”

  “What do I say? Sorry for calling you crazy, and a bad lay, and a whore, among other things.”

  “You said that?” Ryan’s mouth gaped.

  “In a roundabout way.”

  “That’s cold.” Mitch shuffled a pack of playing cards. “I think you’re better off to fold on this one.”

  “That’s your advice? Helpful.”

  “If you said that to her, let it go. You can’t recover.” He dealt cards to each of them. “If I was her, I wouldn’t want to talk to you either.”

  “Even I wouldn’t talk to a lady that way. That says a lot.” Ryan picked up his cards and put them in order. “She’s a nice girl. When did you become such a dick?”

  “You guys are my friends. You’re supposed to be cheering me up, not joining in the beating.”

  “We’re you friends, but you deserved to get your ass kicked.” Ryan’s words had turned from jackass to serious. He dropped a card and Mitch dealt him a new one.

  Tuck didn’t appreciate his friends’ brutal honesty.

  “I know. Why do you think I didn’t press charges? After Claire fucked around…” Tuck didn’t finish.

  “You’re assumption is that every woman is like Claire…” Mitch dropped two cards. “Panned out for you, huh.” Mitch picked up his new cards.

  “I fucked up.”

  Mitch recognized Tuck’s expression.

  “Keep two things in mind before you do anything stupid. One, what are the consequences? And two, are you willing to pay the price?”

  THUD

  Tuck’s head impacted with the table.

  Ryan pulled at the back of his shirt, lifting him from the table. “Pick up your cards. We came over here to play poker, not have girl talk. Find your balls man.”

  Tuck swept up the cards and tried to focus. “Two.”

  *****

  Upon waking up the day after drinking and poker, the only thing Tuck could focus on was Chance. What he’d done. What he’d said. How he missed her and how guilty he felt. It was time to do something about that.

  Tuck’s hands shook in the ten degree air, the result of the bitter cold and his nerves.

  She only opened the door a few inches, not extending him an invitation to enter. Chance pulled her cardigan closed, the wind whipped the falling snow around in a frenzy.

  “You can’t be here.”

  “You should have told me about Paul.” That wasn’t the opening line Tuck planned to use.

  “You shouldn’t have assumed I was lying.” She said defensively.

  “I’m sorry.” The plan he’d formulated before knocking on her door failed.

  “You need to leave before someone sees you.”

  “Give me five minutes.”

  “You got what you wanted, you said so yourself.” She closed the door not giving him opportunity to rebut.

  He knocked on her door. The outside light shut off.

  “Please, hear me out.” He waited, but she didn’t come back to the door. He knocked again. “I’m sorry.”

  He rapped his hand on the door again, then leaned his face against it in defeat.

  “Chance.”

  She yanked the door open.

  “I’ll call the police if you don’t leave.” Empty threat. Tuck stood at attention.

  “Can I come in?”

  “No. If anyone sees you, you’ll be fired. Go.” She pointed to his truck.

  “I’m willing to take that gamble. I’m sorry, with all of my being. I didn’t mean what I said. Any of it—”

  She cut him off. “We’ve caused each other enough pain. You more than I.” The look on her face made him feel guilty as hell. “Don’t make it any worse.”

  “I couldn’t make things worse than I already have.”

  Chance crossed her arms. “If you came here looking for forgiveness…” She took a deep breath. “I forgive you Tuck.”

  The words should have excited him, but he waited for the caveat.

  “But it doesn’t change the past. You’re a good man, you truly are. But jealously isn’t an attractive trait. Neither is cruelty. Your words were so cruel.”

  “I know.” Tuck tried to step in, but she stood behind the door firmly, not giving him more than the two inches the door was o
pen. “I was an asshole. I have no excuse. All I can do is apologize. It wasn’t me. That’s not the man I am. It was a mistake. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me.” He pleaded.

  Chance studied the ground and time seemed to move in slow motion as Tuck waited for a response.

  “I forgive you. You don’t need to make it up to me.”

  “Does that mean you’ll give me another chance?”

  Chance didn’t know how to answer.

  “Good night, Tuck.” Her words were soft and she attempted a smile. The door closed and the lock clicked. She again shut off the light. Tuck stood staring at the door.

  “I love you.” Tuck said to the door.

  *****

  Chance sat on the cold floor, her back against the door. He loves me? You don’t treat someone you love that way. You don’t hurt them intentionally out of spite. You don’t wait months to try to amend your wrongs.

  Tuck had asked her outright about Paul several times and he was right, there would have been no issue if she’d told him Paul’s preference in the opposite gender. To the outsider, their relationship could have the appearance of intimacy, but that was because Paul was affectionate, warm, and loving. Paul’s sexual preference was not a topic Chance would discuss even to defend their relationship, Paul’s family and friends were the only ones privy. If he knew her at all, he would have seen he was the glimmer in her eye. And he should have believed her.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  “He has impeccable taste in floral arrangements.” Paul sat on the edge of her desk, admiring what had become a jungle of flowers.

  “It’s a bit much. I get an arrangement a day. Do you know how much that would cost?”

  “You’re worth it.”

  “How do we know they’re from him? There isn’t a name written on any of the tags.”

  “Do you have any other suitors knocking at your door you’ve neglected to tell me about?” He pulled a pink rose from one of the bouquets.

  “You never know.”

  “I don’t like him.”

  “I know.” That went without saying.