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7.84% Across the line / Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Across the Line

Bab 4: Chapter 4: Across the Line

Chapter 4: Across the Line

Andrew Fray POV:

I unlocked the door to my apartment and stepped in.

My place wasn’t much. An open room that was my bedroom, living room, and kitchenette, but fortunately my bathroom was its own room. This was the best place I was able to afford since I started working for my boss, but it was much better then where I had been living before.

I stretched, tossing my jacket onto my bed and made my way to the kitchenette. It was late and I'd had a long day. Nine deliveries. Each one carefully documented and sent off to Adams.

Even thinking her name had me scowling at this point. I had been going along with her for over a month and still nothing. My boss was still where he was, nothing overly suspicious had come up, and there was nothing to show for my work.

Nothing besides a few awkward conversations where I had to convince some of my coworkers that I had, in fact, not been snooping through one of my packages.

I put a bagel in my toaster and pushed those thoughts away. Adams would have to give up sometime soon, then this could all be over.

A phone buzzing in my pocket distracted me from that happy thought. I sighed in exasperation. I just wanted to eat something and get some sleep. Clearly my boss had different plans. To my surprise my phone screen was blank when I checked it. No pickup or drop off.

That made me realize the text had come on the phone Adams had given me.

That was weird. I texted Adams. She never sent anything back.

She had clearly been taking lessons from my boss because all she had sent to me was an address. Presumably that meant she wanted to meet up.

I considered ignoring her. We were the only people who used this phone. If there was something she wanted to say she could do it over this. But maybe she was ready to cut me loose. And that might mean some compensation for my troubles.

The address she had sent me wasn’t too far from my apartment, but it was much closer to the precinct Adams had taken me to after arresting me.

Against my better judgement I left to go meet with her.

A subway ride later, and I was just a block away from the address I had been sent.

Getting there, I found that it was a bar. One I knew cops liked to visit on their off hours. On the one hand that meant this probably wasn’t anything official. On the other I would be surrounded by cops. I’m still not a criminal but it doesn't always matter.

For the second time that night I did something against my better judgement and went inside.

I knew most of the patrons were cops instantly because they had neglected to take their uniforms off. At least they were off duty. They were drinking, watching games on the TVs placed around the bar, and they surrounded several of the establishments’ pool tables.

Looking around I spotted Adams seated at the bar and made my way over to her. She was one of the few people not in uniform. She had her hair down around her shoulders, and was dressed in jeans, a dark purple t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. She smiled at me as I approached.

“Well, what’s a bad man like you doing in a nice place like this?” she asked.

I scowled. “You invited me,” I reminded her. I scanned the room. “What is this about?” I asked. “If this has to do with your investigation into my boss, couldn’t we have spoken over the phone. Why drag me all the way out here?”

If Adams was annoyed, she didn’t show it. In fact, her smile grew. “There’s more to life than work, Mr. Fray,” she told me. “Or do you mind if I call you Andrew?”

I frowned, but I couldn’t think of anything wrong with her request. “Andrew is fine.”

“Anyway, I saw that you were having a long day and thought you could use a break,” Adams continued. She waved to a middle-aged man working the bar. “Two pints,” she told him. She turned back to me. “Anything for you? It’s on me tonight.”

“Very generous of you, Officer Adams.”

Her smile just kept growing. “It’s Holly. Officer Adams is just for when I’m on duty. And only for people who don’t like me.”

I snorted. “You couldn’t like you?” It was supposed to sound sarcastic, but I either failed or she didn’t care.

“You have no idea,” Holly told me. She gestured behind me. “Anyway, the nice bartender is still waiting for your order.”

“I’ll have one pint to start with.”

“And bring us a menu,” Holly added. “We’re both hungry.”

The bartender nodded and began filling a trio of pint glasses.

While we waited Holly propped her elbows up on the bar. “So, Andrew, tell me a bit about yourself.”

“What’s to tell?” I asked her. “You know who I work for. You’ve known what kind I work I do for them for the last month. Nothing else affects the work you want me to do for you.”

Holly nodded in acceptance. “Okay, I can see you’re not comfortable enough to be casual with me yet. I’ll go first then.” She sat up primly and extended her hand to me. “Hi, I’m Holly Adams,” she introduced herself as if we were on a blind date. “I’m a cop, and I’m just finishing my first year on the force. When I’m not working, I like practicing on shooting ranges, pool, arm-wrestling,” she smirked as she looked around the bar, “and drinking my coworkers under the table.”

I chuckled at that, then frowned at myself. How did I let that happen?

“You don’t think I can hold my liquor?” Holly asked me, pretending to sound hurt.

“No, that’s just not something I was expecting,” I told her.

That was when the bartender came with our drinks. Holly grabbed one of her glasses and began to chug, draining the thing in under a minute. The entire time she held eye-contact with me.

I’ll admit it. I was kind of impressed.

“So, does that help at all?” Holly asked me as she set her glass down and grabbed the other. She took a normal sip this time. “You know me a bit better now. Are you ready to let me know you?”

I could only shrug. “There’s not much I can say,” I told her. “When I’m not working, I’m doing whatever I feel like.” I looked around at the room. “I don’t normally go to bars, though.”

Holly gave me a predatory smile. “That means I have someone new to beat at pool,” she replied, eyeing an unoccupied table.

I gave her my version of a smirk. “No. Just because I don’t go out doesn't mean I can’t beat you at pool.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Holly told me.

The two of us took our glasses and headed for the table. I racked up the balls while Holly got us our cues.

Holly did end up beating me best out of five, and we had quite the audience by the time we were finished. Apparently, I was the first person in months to get past best out of three against Holly. Everyone acted like that was an accomplishment worthy of celebrating which led to several rounds to free drinks from her coworkers.

During my time at the bar, I was also treated to watching Holly absolutely destroy half her coworkers at pool, and then beat the other half at arm-wrestling.

But best of all was how frustrated everyone else was becoming as Holly kept beating them. That was something special.

I was making my way through what I planned to be my last drink as Holly slammed her last challengers’ fist onto the bar. She wished them better luck next time before sauntering over to sit with me. “So, having a good time?” she asked me.

I smiled as I set my glass down. “I am, actually. I didn’t know what I was getting myself when I decided to come, but this has been a really fun night.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to do it again soon,” Holly agreed happily.

I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” Holly confirmed, nodding. “I’m having the time of my life. And you haven’t noticed the best part of this for me yet.” She leaned in close. “Look at the woman sitting at the table next to the door,” she whispered conspiratorially.

I did as I was told and instantly spotted what she was talking about.

The woman sitting at the table was probably ten years older than Holly and me. Her blond hair was in a bob-cut, for apparel she wore black heels, a burgundy business suit, and on her face, she worn the nastiest glare I had seen in my life.

“And that is?” I asked hesitantly.

Holly waved to the bartender, and he brought over two more pints. This time she pushed one towards me. “That is Sergeant Samantha Adams,” she replied. “My commanding officer, and if the last name doesn’t make it obvious, my older cousin.”

“She doesn’t look happy.”

Holly rolled her eyes. “Little secret, she never does. At least not around me.”

“And maybe because of the company you’ve chosen for tonight?” I suggested.

“I hadn’t thought about it like that, but that’s a good point,” Holly admitted. “And another reason to keep you around, Andy.” She raised her glass. “To pissing off a frosty bitch,” she toasted.

I was beginning to realize that better judgement did not apply in situations involving Holly. “To pissing off a frosty bitch,” I seconded as I raised my glass.


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