City Traffic. Iesha Renee
Chapter 1
Have you ever loved someone so much you felt sick without them? Someone who made you feel whole but only when you were around them? Or a person you could never call a lover but you loved them with all your heart? If you have, well that’s a truly special relationship. But if you haven’t consider yourself one of the lucky ones. A relationship like that can only end in one way, tragedy. I know this because I lived this, twice. I still live this, everyday I am reminded of the love that killed my partner, my best friend and destroyed my career. Now that I have a story to tell I want to tell it before I die alone in this filthy roach motel.
It all started on a really bad day. I’m not talking about a sad, Daniel Powder on repeat type of day. I mean watching the life dissipate from the eyes of the person you loved the most, day. Right ok, let’s go back. Here’s a little backstory. I used to be a cop. A detective on top of all my shit. I had a great field reputation and the community respected me. I can’t take all the credit. I’d be lost without my partner, Ashton Edwards. He was pretty much the center of my world. When it came to work we had the most convictions in any district in Houston. We arrested perps for breakfast and attended arraignments for lunch. We lived for our work. We enjoyed being up late going through case files just to be together. We both entered the force right out of college and we were both ranked as sergeants by the age of thirty. Our captain once said that teaming us up would be a bigger legacy than his own two sons. The only thing we loved more than being cops was each other although neither of us dared to admit it to the other. Until one night we got drunk and slept together. The next morning we were both embarrassed yet satisfied. We decided we wouldn't put a label on what we were doing. The sex was so good, we secretly hooked up for a year. We had to end it before the bickering almost ruined the last of our friendship. There was always a competitive undertone at work killing the sex vibes after hours.
As much as we wanted each other. We made a stupid pact that we’d stop sleeping together completely. We’d didn't think our jobs could withstand the pressure of actually dating openly. Although we were good partners we were also super competitive. That’s mostly the reason we got so many arrest. One of us was always trying to out do the other. That made us precinct heroes on a work scale, but it was all extra drama on a relationship scale. That plus the other bullshit we both carried would breed dysfunction faster than rabbits. So the extreme attraction and comfortability would just have to be enough.
On the worst day of my life we happen to both actually be hungry for breakfast. We were working on a battered wife with a missing child case. We stopped to eat at a diner across the street from a gas station and I remember thinking how perfect because we also needed gas. I grabbed the case files and took them inside. We were so wrapped up in conversation about the case we forgot to order something to eat. The waitress came to the table several times to refill our coffee. About two hours go by and we work out the entire case. We were certain the grandmother abducted the child and was possibly keeping her at an estate owned by the family. Ready to jump in the charger in pursuit of the child; we were finally defeated by our hunger and conveniently reminded to get a search warrant. After we put in the call for the warrant Ashton started strolling on his phone. “Order me a short stack and three eggs I’ll be right back.” I told him. I went to the restroom to pee and check my messages.
I answered a few text and checked my email before heading back to the dining area. When I didn’t see Ashton at the table I scanned the room looking for him. Instead I saw everyone in the diner holding up their phones and staring out the window. I looked over to see Ashton across the street at the gas station with his gun drawn. I immediately dashed across the street and pulled my weapon out as well. Ready to back him up in what ever fuck shit was happening over there. Before I got to the other side I heard a gun shot. I stopped in my tracts it felt like my heart and my stomach were twisting into a knot. I saw Ashton fall to the ground and I ran to him. “We have gunshots and an officer down lock onto my location and send a bus I need back up now. I repeat officer down.” I shouted into the radio app. The dispatcher calmly replied “We have your location and we’re sending help right away.”
I was still holding my gun when I kneeled to tend to Ashton. Seeing him like that ripped me up. I put his head in my lap and held him in my arms. Blood was pouring from his mouth I looked down to see he was hit in the stomach. He looked up at me and I could see anger in his eyes just before it was over taken by fear. It seemed he knew he was dying. “You’re going to be ok just hang in there. I’ve already called for help.” I said. He put his hand on top of mine and tried to grip but he was too weak. “Ash you better not fucking give up on me. You fight. Fight you son of a.” I stopped short. Terror was wailing up inside of me and a chocked on my words. I couldn’t get it out. “Chloe” He said with labor. “I’m sorry. l love you.” Those words were not only the most meaningful thing anyone has ever said to me but they were also a betrayal. “No Ash don’t say that. This isn't over! I told you to fight!” I was yelling at him but all I really wanted to say was I love you too. It was impossible not to love him. Everyone in his world adored him. I regretted waiting so long to try to win him back. It was so stupid to break up. I could hear the sirens in the distance and I prayed that they were coming from an ambulance not the beat cars. I looked down and he was choking on his blood. “Ashton please.” I cried. “I love you too.”
To me it seemed like I took away his fight because at that moment he stopped trying to hold my hand and his dropped to ground. I’d lost him and nothing could console me. I looked around to see who did this. My gaze fell on a young white male in a grey hoodie. When his eyes met mine I could see he was scared and holding a black sack. He took off running and I jumped up with my gun and ran after him. I pursued him for a block before I was close enough to stop him. “Freeze” I shouted to get his attention. I chased him another block or so and yelled again. “Stop right there”. He didn't stop and I was getting tired of sprinting.
I was afraid that if I didn't stop him he would get away and never answer for his crimes. Without the chance to rethink my decision I fired a shot and I hit him in the back. He dropped like a sack of potatoes. I ran over to him and grabbed the black back pack that he was holding. I expected to see weapons and cash since he'd just finished robbing a gas station. Instead I found text books. He was just a student. I reached over and checked his pulse. It was hardly there but at least there was a chance I could save him. I took out my phone to call a chopper and sent in my location. I could still hear the sirens but they were much closer. It took all of my will power to stay there with the kid instead of going to Ash. As much as I loved him he was gone. This kid was still fighting because of a mistake I made. I took off my blazer and balled it up. I pressed it on the wound applying pressure trying to stop the blood. I kept thinking oh God, what have I done as the blood quickly soaked my blazer.
I was so confused and agitated. Why the fuck was he running if he wasn't the robber, why didn’t he stop? I dumped his bag certain I’d find weapons or cash somewhere. I checked every zipper and came up empty. The bag still had a bit of weight to it. I felt around and found a velcro pouch inside. I opened it up to find about an ounce of marijuana. Not necessarily the sort of stash a dealer would carry. Judging by the size of the stash and the age of the kid he was a stoner but still just a kid, a student. Because the scene around the corner was swarming with cops it didn't take long for a few to make it over to the kid and I. I hadn't had a chance to work out how I was going to explain the situation. I used shock to postpone any explanation. I was quiet and distant until the chopper appeared and air lifted the kid to the hospital. I later found out that the kid died en route.
Eventually shock did sink in. On my way back to my car at the diner I couldn't bring myself to look over to the gas station. I knew what I would see but actually seeing it was more than I could take at that moment. I got into my car and drove to the precinct. Halfway there I realized that I never covered the check for the coffees. I suddenly felt as if I’d stolen it. Could a dead man steal if he didn't know the was going to die at the time of purchase? That among other weird and morbid thoughts entered my mind at a thousand questions a minuet. My body was on auto pilot. I only periodically came into focus while being behind the wheel.
By the time I made it to the station I’d already decided to tell them straight up what happened. I’d chosen to deal with the consequences. What a stupid idea that was. I should have known that the consequences change depending on the color of