Patrick’s POV

Meetings. 

They seemed like the only thing I did nowadays. Meetings about productivity, meetings about crime, meetings over funding, meetings with HR. Meeting after fucking meeting. After a while I stopped paying attention to them; all of them becoming more and more alike was getting pretty old.

So here I sat, in a stuffy staff room with 20 other cops, going over the same 5 things we always go over. I nearly stopped paying attention again when a certain name caught my attention. 

“Jem King is on the move again. He’s been pretty tame these past five months but there have been reports from other gangs we work with that say he’s gearing up for something.”

“Did they give any other details,” I asked before I had a chance to stop myself. The presenter raised an eyebrow at me. This was the first time I had spoke up in a meeting since Jem was shot nearly a year ago. “We need to know if they’re planning a gang war or if their movement is simply them expanding.”

A few of the cops gave me a small glare or an equally questioning look. A few of them had speculations after I disappeared for a few weeks the same time that Jem’s men were so frantic. They got even more suspicious when I came back and was moving stiffly with a few bruises on my wrists the same time Jem made a new declaration that his old minors were back under his protection and started becoming a public menace again. 

Ever since I got back Jem King became a name that was avoided like the plague unless there was no way around it.

“We don’t know,” Tami said as she looked through the file again for anything she might have missed. “From what they are saying, Jem is keeping everything locked up tight. Some are speculating that its a new drug hitting the streets, others are saying he’s getting paranoid for some reason. There’s just no way of knowing unless we got a mole in his gang to snoop around. I doubt we could pull it off though; he hasn’t allowed anyone in his gang for months and if we happened to get lucky, he’ll be too suspicious of them to tell the anything helpful in time to avoid anything big from happening.”

I hummed as thought back to Jem. It wasn’t paranoia, if he had a hunch about something he was usually right and others were smart to follow his lead.

“Increase patrol in his territory but don’t engage in his activity; they’ll shoot without fear if we start snooping,” I decide after a while. Hopefully we’ll be able to figure out what’s got him so worked up if we stay close. “How has the arson been this week?” I doubted I wanted to know. 

“Down 10% but it’s still a lot. 5 this week bringing this month’s total to 37.” It’s only the 20th day of the month. 

Barrett was behind most of them, others were on accident or first time offenders, still with it going down even in the smallest percents, there was no doubt Jem is working Barrett more, meaning he didn’t have time to set fires. Whatever Jem is working on, it’s important enough to need Barrett.

“What else has happened this week?”

“Despite his gang’s active Jem has not been seen in a week. No sightings, no reports, no deals with him directly involved. Some say the gang is running itself while he takes a time out.”

“They’re wrong,” I said without thinking. Jem can’t handle being away for more than a few hours, if he’s not active there’s a reason for it. “I want eyes on him by the end of the week. He’s plotting something and I want to know what.” I doubted he was plotting anything but I needed to save face. I couldn’t afford these people thinking I cared about what Jem was up to.

“Is there anything else we need to know,” I asked as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

“Nothing that I have at least,” Tami joked with a slightly giggle while blushing down at her notes. “We can pick this up next week.”

That was all anyone else needed. Asses left chairs faster than I thought possible and soon enough Tami and I stood in a room alone.

“I didn’t realize my presentation was so boring,” she said with a fake pout as she looked up to me.

“I don’t think it was you. Fridays get the best of us sometimes,” I said as I grabbed my bag. A smile graced her lips as she moved to black the door just as I was reaching for the handle.

“Do you have plans tonight,” she rushed out before I could question her movement; a light blush covering her cheeks while she refused to look me in the eyes. “I know it’s Friday and last minute but maybe we could do something. Get a drink, see a movie, it’s up to you!”

“I don’t think I’m up for it tonight,” I sighed as I reached behind her to open the door. She moved out of the way without a fight but a put covered her face.

“Another time then? Maybe when you have more notice? I’d really like to get to know you more.”

“It’s just not in the cards for me right now. I have a bit too much on my plate right now and it wouldn’t be fair to you to drag you along.”

I hated the way her face fell but it was only fair. I couldn’t give her what she was looking for in the end anyway.

“I understand. See you Monday,” she sighed as brushed past me, all but running out of the building without looking back.

I sighed to myself as I followed her lead.

The parking lot was mostly empty by the time I got to my car: the only remaining ones belonging to those on nightshift. The moon was high in the sky and bright enough to light up the lot without the help of the streetlights. 

Nightshift is going to have a busy night. 

The ride home was short and I’m thankful for it. By the time I rolled into the driveway the stress of the day already began to roll off my shoulders. A light smile covered my face as I stepped through the front door. Faint noise came from the kitchen as the smell of food filled the air. 

I barely have time to set my bag down before a body is colliding with mine.

“You’re back late,” Andrew huffed as my arms begin to wrap around him, his face going to the crook of my neck as his arms tighten around me.

“We had a lot to talk about today,” I said, trying to keep the sigh out of my voice and attempting to let that be the last of the work talk.

After our fight with Jem we all went our separate ways. At least, we tried to. I didn’t make it two weeks before I showed up at Andrew’s door. I claimed it was just anxiety, wanting to check up on him after the whole kidnapping thing but we both knew I was lying. Little by little I stopped going to my apartment after I visited and before long we began living together. 

Neither of us spoke of Jem since we left that day, whether that was for my sake or his I’m not sure. We didn’t utter his name, we didn’t cook things that reminded us of him, and we sure as hell didn’t bring him up just for the hell of it. Even Barrett and Dev we cursed names as far as we’re concerned.

“What are you making?”

“Hopefully spaghetti but we’ll see how it turns out,” he said as he stepped back into the kitchen.

The rest of the night was quiet. Since Andrew cooked I cleaned the kitchen and before long the two of us were on the couch watching tv, ready for the start of a good weekend.

Sleep pulled at my eyes as the plot line of the show began to make less and less sense but one sound was enough to make every thought of sleep leave my mind.

I had locked the door when I came in yet the feint sound of a lock being turned made my eyes pop open but it was too late. The door was open before I had a hand on my gun and an all too familiar voice filled the air. 

“Does your bathroom have windows?” Jem didn’t bother sparing me or Andrew so much as a glance as he locked the door again the second he was through the threshold. 

In the first few weeks after the fight I thought Jem would come back for us. I knew he’d show up at random and probably looking a mess but after those weeks passed my faith in him dimmed and I gave up.

Yet here he was, in my living room, looking a lot worse for wear than I pictured him being. Bruises covered his face, the fresh scar on his cheek was red and aggravated, while his knuckles were split, and what looked to be blood pooled on his shirt where his hand was trying to cover. Still he sounded and acted as calm as Jem always seemed to be.

“No,” Andrew said as he glared at the man yet his voice came out more like a question than an answer.

“Good, get in it,” Jem demanded as he took Andrew by the arm and began leading him to the bathroom as if he had been here a thousand times. I just stood there as I watched him force my boyfriend down the hall, my gun handing loosely in my hand as it followed him slowly. He was half way into the bathroom before he looked back at me with a small glare. “Get your ass in here before they fucking see you,” he seethed as he released Andrew’s arm with a gentle nudge into the bathroom. 

“I’m sorry,” I scoffed but followed regardless. “But you don’t get to march in here like you own the place, claiming that people are after you, and then demanded me around in my own home.”

“I thought I told you to leave us out of your ‘job’,” Andrew asked while Jem locked the door before taking a seat on the toilet lid, one hand still tight around the gun that was pointed to the door while the other clutched his stomach hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

“Well considering this is Patrick’s fault I thought you’d make an exception if it meant me keeping you alive,” Jem snapped, his eyes still trained on the door, his cool and calm demeanor still present but slowly slipping away as more blood seeped through his shirt. 

“My fault?”

“Don’t blame your enemies on him.” Jem forced out a humorless laugh. 

“ ‘Put pressure on the gangs, make sure they know we’re after them’ ‘I want gangs around here to be scared to show their faces’ ‘as your new sheriff I will keep our streets safer and that’s a promise’. You put a target on your head the second the words left your mouth, so yes, your fault. Did you just think you’d get away with that?”

“Then why are you here? You’re putting a target on head by being here aren’t you,” Andrew asked, his voice showing the anger but his face showed his concern as he stared at the wound Jem was failing to hide.

“Aw how sweet of you to care,” Jem scoffed as he leaned back against the wall. “I’ve had a target on my head since I was 16, I doubt that’s going to change anytime soon.”

“Why are you bleeding,” I asked after a while of the tension becoming too much.

“Yea, about that,” Jem sighed, his easy going nature returning full force as he lowered the gun but kept his eye firmly planted on the door. “We need to talk.”