He chuckled at that thought. If he’d been back at his old precinct, he would have been worried about drugs, gang fights, guns, and looting. A little rowdy he could handle.
Some people shot him strange looks, but he was used to it. He knew he cut an imposing figure in his uniform. At six-foot-four, with broad shoulders and chest, large, muscular arms, a trim waist, and solid thighs, he was the epitome of strength. Years of hard work during the summers on his grandparent’s farm had helped him develop into a tower of strength.
He smiled at the crowd and didn’t take it personal when some people frowned. He knew there were a lot ofemotions bouncing around the country about cops, and he was determined to show people he was a good guy.He took a sip of his smoothie and smiled again. Goddamn, it was good. Like apple pie ice cream, with chunks of crust. He knew his straw wouldn’t be able to suck up the large chunks, so he pulled off the lid and used his straw as a makeshift spoon.