ECHOES OF US | 18+ ✔️

CHAPTER 10

DANTÉ

(Ten years later)

Following my graduation from St. John's University, with a BSc degree in Criminal Law, Detective Reagan played a vital role in my enrollment at the NYPD. My exceptional performance and distinct abilities quickly drew attention, resulting in the Intelligence Unit specifically requesting my assignment once my training was completed.

Through unwavering commitment and hard work, I earned the esteemed rank of sergeant within just three years. Now, at thirty, I serve as a distinguished lieutenant in the Organized Crime Unit.

Many see me as polished and leading a perfect life, thanks to the success I've achieved over the years. Even the facade I skillfully present convinces them of a version of me that isn't entirely true. They remain unaware of the unseen battles I face, oblivious to the hidden depths of my brokenness and the darkness that haunts my life.

The prevailing belief holds that time heals all wounds. While this idea seems hopeful and logical, is it truly so?

For some, time might gradually ease their pain, while others, like me, continue to struggle and remain totally messed up. The wounds are so deeply rooted, they take on a life of their own, I would say. Day after day for the past ten years, I have been haunted by relentless demons that never seem to leave me alone. Without fail, triggering memories of the suffering, pain, and loss I endured, along with the future I had hoped for but never came to be.

The only part of my life that realized was my dream to become a cop. Although what I have become would not meet my late padre's approval if he were alive, it is the driving force that ignites my determination every single day. Papà is probably turning in his grave, tormented by my betrayal and failure to honor his legacy. But where did his criminal life actually lead him? Six feet under, along with the rest of my family, leaving me a broken man.

Not even the admiration and respect from my superiors, colleagues, and the public, help me escape the deep emptiness and lurking demons. Even the allure of beautiful women who approach me with interest fails to ignite any desire to date or form meaningful connections.

If only...

Yes, if only things were different, my life would have been the fairytale I had always dreamed of, with my own happily ever after. Each evening, I'd come home to Mia and the heavenly aroma of a home-cooked meal. My heart would swell with happiness as the sweet voices of our children call out, "papi, papi," as their little feet hurry towards me, arms wide open for a loving hug. The cheerful sounds of their laughter and the pitter-patter of their feet throughout the house would provide a welcoming relief from the stresses of the day. My family would have been my happy place. {daddy}

Now, when my carefully crafted facade begins to crumble, and my achievements no longer bring satisfaction, I resort to other means for relief.

The visual intensity, the roar of the crowd, and the rush of adrenaline during fights in cage fighting, along with mindless fucking and alcohol, are the only things that drown out the chaos in my head and numb the ache in my heart.

The sudden knock on my office door jolts me, snapping me from my reverie, and I welcome the interruption. Usually, after drifting into thoughts of another life, a wave of melancholy hits, triggering strong urges just to break things and get in the cage. It is during these moments that I perform the best.

"Come in!" My deep, husky voice reverberates through the room as my office door bursts open.

"Good news, LT!" Sergeant Dawson exclaims, out of breath, his face alight with excitement. "Our UC reported that a heavy narco shipment's en route from Red Hook Terminal to a warehouse in East Harlem early evening." {LT-lieutenant, UC-undercover cop}