Traction

4

Brooklyn

Dropping the duffle bag onto the bed, I sighed. Pictures littered my wall, all of them of Layla and I. All of our trips around Chicago and New York. She loved the city, her eyes always shined when she stared at the skyscrapers. She especially loved the city at night, all the lights shining brightly, but not as much as hers.

Unpacking the bag filled with all the coloring books and such, I stared at the clothes from that night. Sitting in the hospital bag, the blood dried, tears started to form in my eyes. Taking hold of it, memories started to replay in my head. The gun shot, the screams of Layla. Not able to to take it, I threw it away. The clothes were filled with sadness and pain.

Wandering into the bathroom, I couldn't look in the mirror. Not able to stand the sight of myself. Carefully taking off my clothes, my fingers lightly traced the stitches. A scar from the gun shot and the surgery.

Standing in the shower, water cascaded down my face, dried blood flowing down the drain. I stared at it, watching as the water took away some of the remnants of that night.

Running the shampoo and conditioner in my hair, I felt my mind wandering to Hank. My heart fluttering as I remember him just sitting in my hospital room, really listening to me. Wanting to know me, like I actually mattered.

I've had relationships with people my age, they just never really wanted me. They didn't care about what I had to say or what I wanted. They used me, treated me like I was inferior to them. I was tired of the disrespect, so I moved onto older guys. Men who were mature and understood how things work. There are some that still great women wrong, but there are good men out there.

Wrapping one of the towels around my waist, I started to dry my hair. Finally looking in the mirror, I felt like a part of myself died with Layla. She was my platonic soulmate, the girl I would call when a date was terrible and I needed a bail out. The girl who would show up at my job with milkshakes and Chinese when I had to work overtime.

Brushing through knots that the blow dryer created, I started to come up with outfits in my head. Kim reminds me of Layla. The girl who always seems like a bundle of joy until you piss her off. Applying a little bit of makeup, wanting to cover the dark circles under my eyes, I nodded in approval.

Walking over to the dresser drawers, I pulled out a pair of light colored skinny jeans. Sliding them on was a little bit of a hassle but it was a goal I accomplished. Moseying over to my closet, I spotted a navy blue low cut dress shirt. A shirt Layla forced me to buy.

Tucking it into the pair of jeans, I slipped on a pair of nude colored heels. First impressions mattered, something Layla always said when I am forced to go to company events and socialize.

Glancing at the clock on my nightstand, I saw it was time to leave. Grabbing a small purse and throwing everything I needed inside, I left the apartment. Sliding into my car, I pulled out of the parking spot.

The traffic wasn't completely terrible for 7 at night in the Windy City. Almost as if people didn't want to go out. Parking the car outside of Molly's, I turned of the engine:

A small wave of anxiety washed through me. Negative thoughts started to fill my mind, but I shook them away. I needed to move on, I had to live a life Layla would want. Stepping out of the small car, I opened the door.

Taking a step over the threshold, people stared at me for a second before returning to what they did before. Making eye contact with Kim, a huge smile on her face. "Brooke". Waving at the enthusiastic brunette, she pulled me into a hug once I made it to her.

Chuckling in her embrace, a smile appeared on my face too. Separating from one another, she introduced me to all of Intelligence, each with a grin. "So Brooke what kind of job do you have"

A small grin came through when I thought about my job. "I'm a software developer. Helped the FBI creatr some of their databases". Stunned looked passed through their features.

"That's actually amazing. I wonder if Sarge will let her update our databases". Conversations started to go around, I was introduced to more people who were firefighters.

A deep, rough voice sounded behind me, and I instantly knew who it was. Rotating the stool, I became face to face with the older man. "Hey Hank"

A small smile passed through his usual tough demeanor. "How you doing Brooke".

"Pretty good. Your unit is really nice, made me feel welcome". A nod was given as he took a seat next to me. The two of us just talking, only this time I had him talk about himself. I didn't want all the attention to be about me.

He told me all about his wife and his son, but sadly they both passed away. Seeing the tears in his eyes, I grabbed his hand squeezing it. He didn't have to tell me, I wasn't going to push him to. "You didn't have to tell me Hank, I can tell it hurts to talk about"

Before he could respond, Intelligence made their way over. "Sarge, our master genius here" Kevin started out, pointing at me, before turning his attention back to Voight. "She has some tech guru skills. Do you think she can come in and help up our database"

My eyes wandered Intelligence, all trying to give Hank a pleading look. Trying to not chuckle at their antics, Hank look towards me. "I'm ok with it.". They were all about to cheer when he held a hand up to continue. "Only if Brooke is ok with it "

Seeing all heads turn towards me, I cracked a smile nodding. "Sure". Happiness surrounded all of us, glancing at Hank, I didn't need to see a smile to know he was happy.

Everyone started to clear out, standing up from the stool, Hank walked with me. "I should be by sometime tomorrow around 10. Is that ok with you?"

Giving me a nod of approval, he we continued our way towards my car. "Be safe driving home". Saluting the hazel-eyed sergeant, I slid into the car, Hank shutting my door once I was inside.

Starting the engine I pulled away from the bar, waving at Hank on the way. A blush rising to my cheeks, and butterflies forming in my stomach. He makes me feel like I actually matter. A feeling I have never truly gotten before.

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