Chapter 7
Hanne POV
As soon as the car came to a stop beside a
dilapidated apartment building, I made a move to jump out, but Angela locked
the doors. "Let me out of here," I snapped. "I can’t stand being
cooped up with a greedy pig like you."
"I’m trying to protect you, kid. These
neighborhoods don’t take kindly to law enforcement, especially if you’re
white."
"Really?" I shot back, yanking at
the door lock.
She glanced around cautiously. "I'm
serious. Cops don’t have a good reputation here."
"I doubt you have a stellar reputation
anywhere," I retorted. "Oh wait, there’s the Isak family."
"The Isak family has done nothing but
good."
"Is that so? Is it the occasional
hospital visit they make once a year, or is it the drugs they supply you
with?"
"I'm warning you, as your superior, to
keep your hands out of trouble before it closes in on you."
"Don’t worry, I’ll be quick," I
replied, reaching over to disengage the entire locking system. I flung the door
open and jumped out. I could hear her footsteps behind me.
"Whatever you’re chasing won't end well
for you."
I laughed, darting across the sparsely
populated street. This place reminded me of the hood I’d seen in movies.
Growing up in a small town surrounded by rocky mountains and lush greenery, I
never imagined I would find myself in such an environment. The only gun I had
ever seen was my dad's, and the only violence I encountered was portrayed on
television.
It's incredible to think that crime and
corruption could run so deep, orchestrated by a family with influence
stretching across an entire state.
"I’m fine," I dismissed Angela,
veering onto another street. A small group of men huddled together caught my
attention, and I paused to observe what appeared to be a transaction.
"Are they...?" I whispered, my
curiosity piqued.
"We need to leave," Angela urged.
I shot her a look. "Don’t you see
they’re selling to a kid?"
"We don’t intervene until it
escalates."
"That’s cocaine," I pointed out.
"We're just spectators."
"You call that 'just watching'?" I
growled, turning my gaze back to the scene. The young man involved in the
transaction began walking towards us, but as soon as he spotted us, he darted
across the street, prompting the dealer to take off in the opposite direction.
"Get the kid! I'll chase the
dealer!" I yelled, sprinting after the fleeing figure who rounded a
corner.
"Wait for me!" Angela shouted, but
I focused solely on the dealer. I closed the gap just in time to see him
attempt to vault over a fence leading to a tennis and basketball court.
"Freeze! Police!" I shouted,
drawing my gun. "I said freeze!" The sound of the safety disengaging
echoed in the air.
He paused momentarily, halfway over the
fence, allowing me the opportunity to yank him down. I pulled back the hood
obscuring his face—a white male.
He groaned, "What? You thought I was a
black guy?"
Without hesitation, I drove my foot into his
stomach, forcing him to the ground. I holstered my weapon and quickly began
searching him. Beneath the fabric of his hoodie, I found several packets of
drugs.
"Looks like you're in trouble." I
knelt over him, pressing my weight into his midsection.
"What are you doing?" he groaned in
protest.
"I'm taking you in for distributing
illegal substances."
"You’d better let me go, you
bitch."
I applied further pressure with my knee,
eliciting a pained gasp from him as he tried to roll away. But I held him
firmly in place. Heavy breathing drew my attention, and I looked up to see
Angela approaching.
"Where's the kid?" she asked,
urgency in her voice.
"He's not a kid; he's an adult."
I growled in frustration. "You let him
go!" I shouted angrily.
Gritting her teeth, Angela jogged forward. I
delivered one last knee strike to the nameless dealer's gut before hauling him
up and shoving him against the faded graffiti of the building.
"Stay right there!" I ordered,
kicking his legs apart and forcing his hands flat against the wall.
"Let him go," Angela demanded.
"He’s selling drugs!" I shot back.
"Do you have any idea who I work for,
you bitch?"
I stomped back toward him. "Do I look
like I care? Let me guess, the Isak family?"
"Damn right. You better release me, or
you'll regret it." He tried to pull his hands away from the wall, but I
pressed my gun against his back.
"Hands in the air!"
"Constable, put the gun away,"
Angela insisted, explosively.
He pulled his hoodie further up his head.
"You should listen to your partner," he spat rudely.
My gaze fell on his wrist, which was branded
with a tattoo—a dragon seemingly devouring its own tail, entwined with a maze
design.
"What are you, a piece of meat
now?" I taunted.
"Anyone marked with that tattoo is
off-limits for the police. Let me go and save yourself the trouble."
I scoffed. "For all I know, you could
have just gotten that tattoo done yesterday."
He looked confused. "I worked for them,
you idiot!"
I kicked his leg, forcing him to kneel.
"Don’t call me that." I pressed the muzzle of my gun against his
forehead. "Or I might just blow your brains out."
"Go ahead," he laughed bitterly.
"You take me in, and they'll do far worse."
"The Isak family doesn’t operate in this
part of town," I replied, my patience zeroing. I raised my gun to smack
him across the face, but Angela intervened, pushing me back. "What is
wrong with you?!" I yelled.
"I should ask you the same question.
Stop rushing in and doing whatever you please!"
"If you haven't noticed, maybe because
you're blind, I’m trying to clean up these streets. We are taking him in."
"Cleaning up the streets starts with
letting him go."
I pulled out the handcuffs. "No! I am
taking him in and locking him up. You're going to court, you motherfucker, and
you’re going to be behind bars for a long time," I asserted. "You’re
under arrest for possession of illegal drugs and selling."
I secured the cuffs tightly around his wrist,
causing him to wince in pain. I pulled him off the wall and pushed him toward
the street, heading back to the car.
"You're just making a mess of
things," Angela remarked, shaking her head.
"So be it."
***************
I found myself back in the Sergeant's office
once again. "Must I constantly remind you what your job entails?" he
asked, annoyance a main core in his tone.
"You don’t need to remind me. Protect
and serve, and don’t let bullshit slide."
"You need to stay away from the Isak
family. It’s that simple. You know what you did."
I slammed my fist down on his desk, the force
reverberating through the room. "I did what I’m supposed to do. I protect
and serve."
"No, you stirred up trouble. Do you
enjoy creating chaos?" He stood up, attempting to assert his authority
over me. "You know exactly what you did by putting an Isak family member
in a jail cell."
"I don't know; I don't work for
them," I shot back. "He was selling drugs! I brought him in."
"You beat him."
I looked him straight in the eye.
"That's what he gets for calling me a bitch. If he does it again, I'll go
into that cell and beat him again."
"You're crazy."
"Yeah, when it comes to cleaning up
these streets, damn right I’m crazy."
"I’m pulling you off patrol. Don’t make
me strip you of your duties, Constable."
I gritted my teeth, trying to contain my
anger.
"Do I make myself clear?"
"Whatever. So what happens now?"
"I'm letting him go?"
I scoffed. "You’ve got to be joking,
Sergeant."
"Yeah? Well, I'm not Constable Alfhild.
I’m letting him go."
"You caught the guy with enough cocaine
to cause a damn overdose," I replied, emphasizing the severity of the
situation. That was indeed a significant amount of cocaine.
"Amund is coming for him."
I fell silent, my heart racing as I tried to
suppress any smart remark. She was coming. I felt my cheeks flush when
he noticed my bewildered expression.
"Are you okay?"
Amund is coming? I wasn't sure if I wanted to
see her. What would I even say? I could start with calling her a "big
shit," but I knew she'd probably take offense—and maybe even take me down.
"Pray she doesn’t see you. And if she
does, I hope she's in a good mood."
"Then I hope she sees me. What’s she
going to do?" Inside, I felt like a block of ice, uncertain if I truly
wanted to face her again. Yet, a part of me longed to see her face up close
once more.
"I'll be at my desk waiting,"
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