An undercover cop on the brink of an investigation with far-reaching consequences.
A woman escaping a troubled first marriage.
An encounter in a dangerous part of New York City.
Could be a recipe for trouble or the beginning of something good.
Whate...
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Bucky
I was of two minds over the department news that Steve shared with me. I was thrilled that he had finally made captain, a significant achievement for a 37-year-old man. To become the commanding officer of the precinct his own father had worked in for so long was fitting as Steve's dad Joe was one of those old school beat cops that became part of the neighbourhood. He also gave his life in service of the public, being gunned down when Steve was twelve years old. There was no doubt in my mind that Steve would leave his mark on the 107th. At the same time, I was really going to miss working with him. Our friendship had served our working relationship well as there were times words weren't needed between us. We always had each other's back, no matter what. That Sam was taking on Steve's position was the only saving grace as my bond with him was as strong as it was with my childhood friend. Knowing that the department was planning for me to return to work was both uplifting and challenging. There was no doubt that Steve told me with the hope of increasing my determination to overcome my arm injury. Like I said, we knew each other well.
The next few days passed quickly until I was released from the Baltimore hospital. I was eager to get to that specialist in New York, eager to begin the long process of regaining my arm function, eager to get back to the job I was passionate about, and eager to begin living my life with Jane. Any doubts I had about jumping in too quickly at the beginning of our relationship, or of getting married so soon, evaporated at how much more she came to mean to me during that time I spent in the hospital. Perhaps because she had been in a similar position after surviving the attempt to murder her or maybe just because of her own strength of character, I knew that I found the right woman to spend the rest of my life with. Every look and touch between us was filled with the understanding that we had staying power. The smoulder in our relationship, evident as she shaved my face daily, was as far as we could go sexually in the hospital, despite my attempts to convince her otherwise. Reluctant to cause further damage to my left arm by what I wanted to do, she kept me happy in other ways without either of us having an orgasm. It was edging on a grand scale, with a promise that once we were home, we would make up for lost time. I was definitely going to hold her to her promises.
Before we left, Dr. Udaku's office phoned to set my first appointment with him for the Monday, the day after we returned. Although Dr. Khan said it would be two weeks before they would test my arm functions, Dr. Udaku's office said they believed in getting me in as soon as possible to undergo a process they called mapping, where they actually stimulated my nerves both above and below the break, to pinpoint exactly where my nerves were located. It would also help determine the treatment they would take after, as they could stimulate the regrowth of my damaged radial nerve, transplant a nerve taken from another portion of my body to replace the damaged portion of my radial nerve, or insert an artificial nerve which was still experimental. The mapping would be used to create a compression-type sleeve that would fit externally over my arm, bridging the portion of damaged nerve so that I wouldn't lose any musculature below the break, as it would be attached to an external power source that would mimic my nerve function. It was all very high-tech sounding, and they just gave me the Cliff Note's version over the phone.
