"Well shit, Sammy! Thought you weren't coming in today... again."
"Fuck off."
Grinning, Jacob pulled a new pack of Pall Malls from his desk drawer and felt his pocket for his lighter.
"Damn Jacob, it's ten. Don't you want some coffee first?"
"In the wise words of my partner: fuck off."
I chuckled and sipped my coffee as Jacob slipped out for his smoke. Leaning back in my chair, I flipped through some incomplete paperwork. I skimmed the paper for typos and highlighted sections that needed revisions; one would almost think I was a hardworking cop. Truthfully, I was just trying my best to look busy so that Captain Lenkov wouldn't come interrogate me about being late. I liked Lenkov; he was one of the few superiors I actually respected, but he could be a hard ass sometimes. Most superiors don't give a shit when you come or go, as long as you don't act like a dumbass on a scene.
"Detective Bertilli, nice of you to join us this morning."
My attempt to look hard at work failed to keep Lenkov at bay, per usual.
"Captain Lenkov"
"I think maybe you should stick around this evening since you lost a good hour of work this morning; what do you think?"
Lenkov strolled over closer and set his mug on my desk. It was more milk and sugar than coffee, a preference he swore off every New Years, but within the following week would take up again.
"Yes, Captain, sir. I suppose that seems fair."
"Good, get your shit together Bertilli."
"Yes sir"
Lenkov sighed and placed a hand on my shoulder as he walked past me back to his office. I know he is disappointed but fuck, he's not my dad. Suddenly, I need a smoke.
Jacob was already on his second cig and reviewing an old witness statement by the time I made it out to meet him. He looked up, surprised to find me reaching for his pack and lighter.
"You smoke?"
"I do now."
"What happened? Did Lenkov give you a hard time?"
"Yeah, I gotta work tonight now. Shit, Laura's gonna kill me."
Jacob helped me light my cig and shook his head.
"Geez"
"Yeah" I inhaled slowly. It had been a few years since I had smoked a cigarette. I forgot how much I hated it. The last time I had smoked was after Laura told me she was gonna leave me. She didn't, of course, but she had scared me enough to smoke a camel. Smoking never really released any of my stress, it just gave me a distraction for a while. The first time I had smoked a cigarette was after my sister passed away. The day after she died, I stole one of my grandad's cigs and smoked it on the roof. I hated every second of the experience, but at least I wasn't thinking about her. The smoke was burning my lungs and my eyes were watering; that was the closest I got to crying for my sister.
"How's she doing?"
I tensed up, pushing the cig to my mouth with unsteady hands.
"Fuck. Never mind, Bertie... never mind."
Jacob ran a hand through his hair, dropped his cig, and snuffed it out with the toe of his boot.
"No, it's fine. Yeah, she's getting better...we both are."
YOU ARE READING
The Other Side
General FictionA multiple viewpoint story that addresses society and our role as individuals. (TW: contains explicit language, gun violence, and mature themes)