Playing the Game Read online

  “I know,” Berkley sighed, setting her empty bowl in the sink in front of Dena before she leaned back against the counter with her hands on either side of her, gripping the granite top.

  “What’s going on?” Dena asked, noticing the change in her disposition.

  “Something happened with Randi a couple of weeks ago. I guess I’ve been avoiding you because I knew if I talked to you, I’d tell you, and I didn’t want an earful.”

  “You slept with her,” Dena uttered, staring at her best friend.

  “No.” Berkley shook her head. “It was headed in that direction, but I stopped it.”

  “How did it happen?”

  “I took her for a ride on the bike. I think something clicked when we got stuck in the rain. We were soaking wet. I went to take her back to her car, but she told me to take her home. I brought her here.” Berkley paused, reliving the moment in her head. “I’ve never wanted anyone so badly in my life. It took every ounce of self-control I have to pull away from her.”

  “Wow.”

  “I can’t explain this thing between us. It’s like we’re magnets, pushing and pulling against each other.”

  “That’s intense.”

  “No shit,” she sighed. “I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to stop myself next time.”

  “Do you think there will be a next time?”

  “Honestly, yes.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  Berkley shrugged. “If she wasn’t with someone…”

  “You’ve been down that road more than once. I don’t have to tell you how it ends.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m not going to lecture you. You’re a big girl.”

  “Thanks,” she laughed softly.

  “So, since we’re talking about important shit, I think Garrett is a little sad about you joining SWAT.”

  “What? Why?”

  “He said you’re in the brotherhood now.”

  “Brotherhood?” Berkley shook her head.

  “You guys are like Batman and Robin on the streets. Now, you’ve joined the Avengers.”

  Berkley laughed. “Okay, so first, Batman is not an Avenger. Second, Garrett is and always will be my first call. We have each other’s back no matter what. Yes, I have other officers whom I work closely with, but that’s only on SWAT calls. Everyone is scattered in different districts. It’s not like I’ll see them every day. We train together a few times a month and see each other on calls. He’s my backup and I’m his, every single day. Nothing is going to change that.”

  “Maybe you should be telling him all of this.”

  “I had no idea he felt this way, or I would have.”

  “He hasn’t come right out and said it, but I picked up on it and made my own assumptions,” Dena said.

  “We’re going to the gym tomorrow after our shift; I’ll talk to him.”

  Dena nodded. “Does he know about all of this with Randi?”

  Berkley shook her head. “He and I have things we talk about, and you and I have things we talk about.”

  “That’s probably a good thing,” Dena chuckled.

  “Yep. You know all boys talk about is tits and ass.”

  Dena rolled her eyes and shook her head, causing Berkley to laugh.

  “Good luck tomorrow. I wish I could be there to see you get the official certification.”

  “Thanks. It’s nothing major. The captain will award me my certificate and a new badge during shift change, and I’ll hit the streets.”

  “It’s still a big deal.”

  “I know it is. I honestly don’t think it has sunk in yet that it has actually happened. It probably won’t until I get my first call out.”

  Dena nodded. “I should get going. We’ve only seen each other in passing the last few days. I want to spend some time together before he has to go to bed.”

  “Or go to bed with him,” Berkley teased.

  “That’s definitely an option.” Dena smiled, hugging her best friend.

  32

  Berkley walked into the South District Station, fully dressed in her uniform and ready to start a new shift. Technically, she’d radioed in as soon as she’d left her house, which put her officially on duty. However, she still had to make an appearance for roll call before the start of every shift.

  Everyone in the roll call room came to their feet when she walked in. The captain was standing at the front of the room with Sergeant Omar Jones, the South District SWAT Team leader. He was brown-skinned, and tall with broad shoulders, bulging muscles, and a black mustache and goatee. A sheen of sweat covered his bald head. Beside him was Lieutenant Mike ‘Sully’ Sullivan, the SWAT Team Commander. He was a veteran of Richey PD who still loved the thrill of riding the streets. His salt and pepper hair was turning mostly grey, but he was still stronger than most men in the department.

  Berkley kept walking and took her place in the empty seat in the front row as her fellow officers sat back down.

  “You all know of the honor, courage, and commitment it takes to be a police officer. Some men and women in blue go on to become detectives; some work their way up the ranks and wind up with desk jobs; some ride the streets their entire careers. Then, you have the ones who take it to the next level and join an elite team of police soldiers…if you will. The Special Weapons and Tactics Unit isn’t for the faint of heart. It’s certainly not for the weak. And, it most definitely isn’t for the everyday police officer. However, it is for one special officer who not only passed the initial exam with one of the highest scores ever but blew away the training instructor at the academy. Tonight, it is my honor to promote Senior Patrol Officer Berkley Ward to SWAT, effective immediately,” Captain Munroe said, waving her up. “I’d also like to note that she is the first-ever female SWAT officer for Richey Police Department,” he added.

  Berkley stood and walked up to him. He handed her the SWAT certificate and a shiny new silver badge that had SWAT on it in bold black letters. Then, he shook her hand.

  Sergeant Jones smiled and shook her hand.

  “Welcome to the show,” he whispered.

  She grinned and moved to Lieutenant Sullivan.

  “Welcome to SWAT,” he said, shaking her hand before pinning the metal SWAT insignia onto her shirt, which was a solid silver bar made of the four letters. He placed it next to the EMT insignia that was stitched above her name.

  “Thank you,” she replied.

  As soon as she sat back down, the two SWAT members left, along with the captain, and the station lieutenant went on with the shift change meeting.

  *

  “Are you shitting your pants yet?” Garrett teased.

  “Nope.” Berkley grinned as they left the roll call room to start their shift.

  “Ward…” the lieutenant called.

  “I have your new uniform shirts on my desk. I ordered six. If you need more, let me know,” he said.

  “Wow, that was quick. Thanks.”

  “This new company we are using has a forty-eight-hour turn around, and they’re local, so easy delivery,” he said.

  “Let’s meet up for dinner,” Berkley said, talking to Garrett.

  “Sure.” He nodded, holding his fist out.

  She bumped it with her own and said, “Ride or die.”

  “Ride or die.” He smiled, walking in the opposite direction.

  Berkley quickly changed into one of the new shirts, noticing the SWAT insignia was now next to the EMT insignia above her name. The badge on the opposite side matched the new metal one she’d received from the captain, with SWAT on it as well. She loved the fact that everything was stitched onto their shirts. She didn’t have to worry about anything getting hung up or ripped off in an altercation. She stepped into the restroom to check the mirror and make sure everything was correct, then she grabbed the remaining shirts and headed out to her patrol car.

  “SWAT is broken up into two teams of five,” Se
rgeant Jones said, walking over to her. “I’m the Team Leader for the Alpha Team, which you’ve been assigned to. The city is divided into two sections. We go to all of the callouts for our section and Team Beta goes to everything in the other section. Depending on the severity of the situation, both teams are called out. Anyway, we train together twice a month. I’ll get the schedule sent to you. We go to the range one of the days and use an old warehouse for tactical training on the other day. We try to get our schedules lined up. You’ll either be with me or Officer Connor McGill until you get your feet wet, so to speak.”

  “Sounds good. I know Connor. He’s on day shift out of West Four, right?” she said, placing her new shirts on the front passenger seat before shutting the door.

  “Yeah.” He nodded.

  “Great. I’m looking forward to it.” She shook his hand again, and he walked away, heading towards his patrol car.

  *

  The game was in full swing by the time Berkley arrived at the soccer stadium. The score was one to zero with Richey ahead of Utah; the second half had only been going for three minutes. She quickly radioed the other officers and took her post on the sideline near the tunnel. She eyed the players, surprised when she didn’t see Randi on the field. They hadn’t talked since their ride on the motorcycle, except for a couple of texts to say what had happened between them wasn’t happening again. That was a week ago.

  She scanned the crowd, looking for anything she needed to be concerned about. When she noticed Randi sitting in the players’ box on the sideline, it took an extra second for her to pull her eyes away. Thoughts flooded her mind of their soaking wet, passionate kiss in her house, sending her blood flowing south. She shook her head, forcing herself to concentrate on the fans and the job she was there to do…until the place went crazy. She didn’t have to look towards the sideline. She knew who was coming into the game.

  *

  With thirty minutes to go, the coach yelled for Randi to warm up. She stood and removed her penny before going through the motions of their stretching routine. By the time she actually entered the game, causing the crowd to roar, there were only twenty minutes left. She immediately got on the ball, but passed it off when she had two defenders close in her on.

  Sasha won the ball back and sent it to Jorja, who worked through the traffic in the midfield with her fancy footwork. Then, she passed it wide to Carrie, who crossed it with one touch in front of the box. Randi got part of her foot on it but shot it directly into the Utah keeper’s hands. She sent it all the way to the circle with a powerful kick. Jorja rushed to head it down, but a Utah player beat her to it. Sasha ran backward, anticipating a one on one battle as the player ran down the sideline.

  The fans on that side of the stadium were on their feet, screaming and cheering. Sasha watched the ball as the player tried tricking her with fancy footwork, pushing her all the way to the corner flag. Sasha went for the ball and the Utah player accidentally kicked it out, giving it back to Richey for a throw-in.

  With only five minutes left, Richey was in defense mode, doing everything they could to hold onto their only goal, and the three points that came with the win. Randi, Carrie, and a few other players went back and forth with a game of keep away until the clock finally ran down and one minute of stoppage was added on. Jorja sent a long ball forward, which Randi chested down right outside of the box. Three Utah defenders were all over her. With no other choice, she kicked the ball back Jorja. Then, the ref blew the whistle, ending the game.

  Surprised they’d won another one, and against the team leading the points, the entire team dove on top of each other, celebrating in the middle of the field. The thunderous sound of the sold-out crowd was louder than ever before.

  “Holy shit!” Sasha yelled.

  “We did it!” Jorja cheered.

  “I played!” Randi laughed.

  “Way to go, ladies! This is our house!” Olivia exclaimed when they huddled in a circle.

  Once she finished the captain’s post-game speech, they stretched out a little bit, then walked around the stadium waving at the fans. Some of the players went to the locker room, but most stayed out, signing autographs and taking selfies for half an hour.

  “I’m exhausted,” Carrie said, bumping into Randi.

  “Not me. I only played long enough to get sweaty.”

  “How’s the leg?”

  “Fine. If one more person asks me, I’m liable to rip it off and beat them to death with it,” she grumbled.

  “Guess who’s here,” Sasha squealed, running up to them.

  “Mickey Mouse!” Carrie blurted.

  “Huh?” Sasha rolled her eyes and shook her head, causing Randi and Carrie to both laugh hysterically.

  “Let me guess, Berkley?” Randi said.

  “Yep.” Sasha turned and headed towards the tunnel like a giddy teenager.

  “Maybe they should go out,” Carrie muttered as they started walking across the field.

  “Berkley’s not interested in her.”

  “Because she wants you?” Carrie questioned.

  “What? No. I just meant if Berkley liked her, she would’ve gone out with her by now.”

  Carrie nodded. When they neared the tunnel, she said hello to Berkley, then went inside towards the locker room.

  “You look different,” Randi said, softly meeting the blue eyes staring back at her.

  Berkley shrugged. “I’m on the SWAT team now. Maybe that’s it.”

  “SWAT? Isn’t that dangerous?” Randi questioned, noticing the new insignia sewn on her uniform shirt.

  “Being a cop is dangerous in general. This is just another element to the job. It’s a huge promotion that I worked my ass off to get. I’m also the first female on SWAT for Richey PD, so it’s a pretty big deal.”

  “Wow,” Randi said in surprise. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.” Her chest began to tighten and her stomach started fluttering with butterflies the longer she stared into the deep pools of blue looking back at her. She felt herself inching closer as the tip of Berkley’s tongue snaked out, moistening her lips.

  Berkley fought the urge to reach out and touch her silky, smooth skin. She was sure Randi had moved closer. If she took a step…

  “Be safe out there,” Randi whispered before turning and walking away.

  Berkley watched her until she disappeared around the corner. Then, she kicked her steel-toed boot against the base of the wall. “She makes me crazy,” she mumbled.

  *

  The rest of the night was quiet in Berkley’s area of town, until she got a call around midnight for a drunken person outside of Dunkin Donuts, demanding they open the door for him. When she arrived, she saw the young male in a white t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, pacing outside, smacking his hand on the glass doors periodically.

  “327—on scene,” she radioed as she got out of the car. “Hey, buddy!” she yelled to get his attention.

  “Oh, man. Come on,” he slurred when he turned around and saw her a few feet away. “I just want some fucking donuts. That’s not illegal!”

  “It is if you’re beating on the door, acting like a fool. What’s your name?”

  “Joe.”

  “Alright, Joe. You have some ID on you?”

  “Nope.”

  Berkley sighed in frustration. “You have a last name, Joe?”

  “Dirt.”

  “Okay, Joe Dirt,” she said, moving a little closer. She could smell the alcohol permeating off of him. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

  “I don’t know,” he slurred again, banging the glass door once more. “I want some donuts!” he yelled.

  “If you touch that door one more time, you’re going to have a lot more problems than just wanting a donut!” she growled. “Put your hands behind your back.”

  “You’re not arresting me!”

  “Public intoxication is against the law, but I never said you were under arrest. I need to cu
ff you so I can pat you down.”

  “You’re not touching me!”

  “So, now you’re refusing to cooperate with me.”

  “Get the fuck away from me,” he mumbled as he turned to bang on the glass again.

  Berkley lunged, smashing him against the glass as she fought for his hands. “I tried to do this the easy way, but you obviously want the hard way,” she said as she wrestled him to the ground. “Give me your damn hands!”

  He struggled, wiggling around, but he was a skinny young punk who had no match for her strength. Berkley got one handcuffed, then put her knee in the center of his back, squeezing his lungs as she applied her weight until he relinquished his other hand. Once she had the cuffs secured, she got up and left him lying on the ground screaming obscenities at her.

  “327—10-15,” she radioed, letting dispatch know she has someone in custody. “10-16,” she added, asking them to send another officer to take him down to the jail. “You don’t have anything in your pockets that’s going to stick me, do you? No needles or anything like that?”

  “Stick your hand in there and find out,” he growled, still lying face down on the sidewalk outside of Dunkin Donuts.

  Berkley shook her head in his direction and pulled a pair of gloves from her back pocket. She noticed the blood on her right knuckles from where they’d scraped the pavement when she was trying to apprehend the drunken man. “Damn,” she said to herself.

  “Looks like you’ve been having fun without me,” Garrett said, pulling up and getting out of his car.

  “Yep. Loads of fun,” she replied dryly. “You want to check his pockets for me? Joe Dirt won’t tell me if he has any needles.”

  “Looks like you’re already bleeding.”

  “Scratched my hand on the sidewalk. It’s nothing.”

  “Wait…did you say Joe Dirt?”

  “Yep. That’s the name he gave me,” she said, walking over to check his back pockets for a wallet, which she found. “Stanley Marvin Brewster,” she laughed. “I see why you go by Joe Dirt.”