Glory.

PROLOGUE

I'd  been transferred out of the 7-5 in East New York, Brooklyn.

The prostitutes in the neighborhood had all signed a petition to have me removed from the precinct. They'd promised to march to the The Plaza if their demands weren't met. And of course, the women's demands were met, and I was transferred to the Double O. Fucking whores.

The last thing in the world that I wanted to be was a cop, but with my father's profession, I had no choice. I was groomed for this shit.

When I made it inside, I stopped in front of the large front desk. I had to look up at the sergeant who sat behind it since the desk was on a big ass platform.

I finally mustered up the strength to speak. "Detective Yanis Oden reporting for duty." Before my mind could wander over the woman's cleavage and think about how soft they were in comparison to something, the desk sergeant looked down at me and said, "One moment, Detective." I took the time to think about how far off course my life seemed right about now. My father was probably turning over in his grave at how much of a waste of a man I'd become. I could almost see the man's grimace on his corpse.

If you were to be nothing of a man, you would at least own the title of being an officer, he'd always say. And in this case, I was nothing of a man. In his eyes at least.

"Detective Oden," The desk sergeant's voice ripped me from my own mind.

"Yes?"

"Report to Lt. Wallace's office on the third floor," She muttered and pointed toward the stairwell.

"Thanks." I grumbled half heartedly.

When I arrived, I tapped on Lt. Leroy Wallace's door. Through the glass, I could see that the man sat behind a small mahogany desk. I didn't know if the desk was that small or if he was just a really, large man.

He stood at probably 6'4 and weighed about three hundred pounds. His head was bald, and he sported a thick, matted goatee. Wallace waved me in. "Have a seat, I'll be with you in a second." I nervously sat down in a small wing chair, noticing that he had a file in front of him . Is that my file? I thought for a moment. Of course it is.

Lt. Wallace hung up the phone and stared at me. He knows, I thought as I shifted in the small chair. "So, you spent all of your career at the 7-5 in Brooklyn?" He asked, glancing down at his desk.

"Yes, sir." I answered, trying to hide any nervousness I felt. I felt like a child on the first day of school—oddly anxious, already standing out too much and being probed by the other students. I was rarely a man who would be easily intimidated but everyone in the precinct seemed to act as if they knew something I didn't.

"Almost a decade, huh?" Lt. Wallace stared at me for a few awkward seconds.

"Yes, sir." I attempted to beam like I was proud at my choice of career. It disgusted me that I wasted so much time being a fucking cop. Doesn't matter if I was a detective or a beat cop or a goddamn Lieutenant—in the streets, we were all the same. We were pigs, 12, 5-O, traders, backstabbers. Being in the police force was a joke—fighting for justice is a lost cause because no one ever truly learns.

I was tired. Beyond tired. Exhausted from a career that had never been my choice to begin with.

"It says here that you put in for a transfer."

"Yes." I let out a breath I didn't know was being held in, relieved that the incident with the prostitutes had been removed from my file. I shifted in the seat again. Lt. Wallace closed my file and stared at the me again for what seemed to be the umpteenth fucking time. "So, you're looking for a change, yeah?" A change is an understatement.

I hate this job.

"Yes sir, a change is what I'm looking for." I smiled.

"Well, a change is what you're going to get. I'm going to partner you up with the best man...well, he's the best damn detective in the city." Great. Fucking great.

"Oh, I look forward to it," I'm sure my lips curled up into a painful looking expression at the lies that just came from my mouth but I was trying my best to hide the distaste I felt.

"Good." At that moment, there was a tap on the door. Lt.Wallace seemed to brighten up, perking up like he'd gotten great news or was expecting a prize of some sort.

"Am I interrupting something?" I assume this was who Lieutenant was boasting about. He strolled in like he owned the own room, and I despised him because he made me feel weak or inferior somehow. He looked around me, and our eyes met for a moment. I forced myself to look away, and was infuriated. His slightly full lips curled into a smile—I was sure he was mocking me.

I could've vomited at how perfect he seemed. And I thought I was a pretty boy.

"No, great timing actually!" The older man gleamed. "This is your new partner, Detective Yanis Oden." He pointed his hand to me like I was an offering to this man. I grimaced.

The man turned to me, finally acknowledging my presence. "Nice to meet you, detective. I'm Blu Sylvester. Detective Blu." He shook my hand with what seemed to be the grip of god. I nodded, smiling and awaiting the moment he would free my hand from his clammy grasp.

"Pleasure meeting you," I smiled. I noticed a look in his eyes. I think he was trying to intimidate me.

"Listen, you two will be working with each other and I want you to play nice." Lt. Wallace looked directly at Blu. "Do you understand me?"

"Of course, sir." He answered, grinning.

"Sit down, both of you." Just then, Wallace's landline rang. He picked it up, then he searched for a pen. Of course, Blu provided the pen. Fucking suck up.

The lieutenant took it and wrote. He hung up the phone and handed the piece of paper to Blu. "We got one, Wagner project. The M.E. is already at the scene. The shit is nasty." Wallace was now the one grimacing.

Blu jumped out of his seat and took the piece of paper from Lt. Wallace's hand. He skimmed over the address, and blinked at the large circled word—HOMICIDE.

I now stood, barely knowing what to expect from this. First day here and already a body thrown into our laps. "We're on it sir," He said as we both headed out of the door now.