Chapter 12: My Team

Samantha's Point of View

After giving my final statements recapping what happened with Mateo and Diego on the bus, I met up with Jay at Molly's for a much needed drink, or two in my case. It was still sinking in that Diego was back with his family unharmed. He was lucky, very lucky. This could have ended so many other ways, none of them good. But, it didn't and for that fact alone I am beyond grateful. It was close to midnight, but I was nowhere near being tired enough to go home and crash. I was too wired from everything that had just gone down. Plus, I've always been a night owl.

Jay sat across from me, with his elbows on the table holding a bottle of beer in his hand, glancing over my shoulder every so often at the Bulls game playing on the flat screen behind me. "Dammit, Brooks had that shot." Jay hissed, shaking his head and then taking a swig of beer.

I was sitting crooked in my chair so I could see the game and still talk to Jay. I laughed and glanced at him slightly, "Brooks always cracks at the lineup. It's a given, especially at away games." I informed him, before sipping my own beer.

"You're a Bulls fan, huh?" Jay asked, smirking and arching an eyebrow surprised.

"Please tell me you're not one of those guys that thinks women are too stupid to understand sports, because if you are, I can't be held liable for what may or may not happen to that pretty face." I joked, feeling the second beer I had hitting my head like a freight train.

"Oh, so you think I have a pretty face?" Jay questioned, giving me a sly grin, while I shook my head and rolled my eyes.

"Don't flatter yourself." I laughed, nibbling on the complimentary pretzels sitting in the basket on the table. I hated pretzels; I just liked to suck the salt off of them and then spit them out. But, I just chewed them now.

"Hey, I think women being interested in sports or whatever they want is sexy." Jay admitted, running a hand along the back of his neck and then stretching his arms up over his head, slightly pulling up the hem of his shirt revealing a small amount of his skin. I stared at him a moment to long, before shaking my head and smirking, hoping he hadn't noticed.

"Who are your teams?" He asked, reaching into the pretzel bowl at the same time as me, our fingers gently brushing against one another's. I pulled my hand out quickly, and tucked some hair behind my ear.

"I was born and raised on the Bulls, Blackhawks, and the Bears. It was sort of hard not to love them, growing up with two brothers." I explained grinning, as the game went to a commercial.

"Bears fan? You know, I've got an extra ticket to the game on Sunday, if you're interested." Jay offered, causing my eyes to light up like a Christmas tree. I wanted to go to that game desperately, but wondered if it would be awkward to go with Jay. I mean we hardly know each other.

"As friends of course," Jay added, after I hadn't replied for a few seconds. I took a drink of beer to buy myself some time, and swallowed hard, feeling the beer go down and come right back up into the back of my throat.

"I have family dinner on Sundays, it's kind of mandatory. But, maybe I can get out of it. Can I let you know?" I asked hopeful, giving him a small smile.

"Yeah, of course, just text me or something and we'll figure it out. Otherwise, I'm going alone." Jay replied, letting his eyes shift back to the basketball game on the television momentarily.

Molly's was relatively empty tonight. A few older men with beer bellies sat at the bar, and two blonde girls did shots at a corner in the back. I still felt restless and keyed up from everything and very jumpy. The blonde girl in the back slammed her shot glass down with a little too much force, causing me to jump slightly in my seat. I'd hoped Jay hadn't noticed, but of course he had.

"You okay?" He questioned, giving me a concerned look. His blue eyes stared directly into my green ones intently, causing my heartbeat to quicken. His eyes flicked down to my hands on the table caressing my beer, shaking every few seconds.

"I'm fine, seriously." I laughed, "Just a little jumpy. The hand shaking is normal for me." I assured him.

"You ever been in a situation like tonight before?" He asked quietly, as I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. I ignored it when I saw that it was my mother. She's probably drunk and out of booze again. I'm not in the mood to deal with her right now.

"Once, but not like a hostage situation. Well, I guess maybe it was, me being the hostage," I laughed dryly, trying to gather my thoughts, feeling slightly flustered in front of him.

"I don't really know. It was my first week as a beat cop; we got a 10-71 over the radio. The shooter was seen fleeing from the scene on foot. He had an orange shirt on and greasy black hair. So, we get there and there's a dead body in the living room. I was told to check the perimeter to see if we could find the weapon or anything the suspect might have dropped." I explained, as Jay stared at me intently, taking in every single word I said. He didn't care about the game when I was talking, just what I had to say, which honestly felt kind of nice.

"Me trying to be the overachiever, decides to check out the abandoned industrial building across the street from the house, thinking maybe the guy dumped it in there or something. I'm walking all through this building alone, my radios not working, so I couldn't check in with my T.O. I find the gun on the second floor, and the shooter." I went on; remembering it like it was yesterday.

"No way," Jay chimed in, completely lost in my story.

"I'm expecting some huge guy, like twice my size or something like that, but instead a scrawny terrified teenage boy is staring back at me. Before I could get the gun off the floor, he dives for it and picks up and aims it at me. I pull mine, and were at a stalemate for twenty minutes." I said, then took a drink of beer.

"You have to shoot him?" Jay asked quietly, gravely almost.

"Thankfully, no. I was able to talk him down. But, I was terrified. I was scared to death of having to shoot this poor kid, and I was terrified he'd shoot me. That was the first day I realized I had the hand tremors or shakes or whatever you want to call it. Every time I draw my gun now, it happens. It never happened in the academy, which is weird." I continued to ramble on and on. I felt slightly dizzy, and warm and fuzzy all over from the alcohol.

"You were never in any real danger in the academy. It makes sense; it doesn't make you any less of a cop though." Jay insisted, giving me a sly grin.

"Thanks, for hanging with me." I said, shyly, as I felt my phone vibrating again. I pulled it out noticing it was my mother again. I sighed, and sat my phone on the table, hitting ignore.

"You need to get that?" Jay said gesturing towards my phone. "No, it's just my mom," I replied.

"You always ignore calls from your mom?" He laughed, finishing the remaining liquid in his bottle and gesturing for another one to be brought over.

"No," I lied, chewing on my lip, "We have a complicated relationship." I informed him, not wanting to get into all the gory details of how my mother is a stone cold drunk half the time and a bitch the rest of the time.

"I get that, I've got some complicated shit with my family too." He said after a moment. I wondered what his family was like for a second as I stared at him discreetly while the barmaid set two more beers down on our table. Did his parents get along? Was his mother warm and kind?

My phone vibrated for the third time and I realized she wasn't going to stop calling unless I answered.

"Sorry," I apologized to Jay, picking up my phone.

My ear instantly filled with loud music and people shouting and yelling, "Mom?" I asked, wondering where the hell she was. A small pit formed in my stomach. "Mom? Are you there?" I spoke again.

"Not your mom, Sam. Its Joe down at Woodbury's on 5th. Your momma's here causing trouble again, I need you to come and get her before I call the cops." Joe said, as my shoulders sunk involuntarily. I shook my head and started to pull my jacket off the back of my wooden bar stool.

"I'll be right there." I snapped, hanging up the phone.

"Everything okay?" Jay asked innocently, looking at me.

"I've got to go, I'm sorry." I whispered, attempting to stand up, but feeling lightheaded. I gripped the table for support as Jay got up and grabbed my arm to keep me from face planting onto the tile floor.

"Yeah, I don't think you're going anywhere alone." Jay laughed, cocking his head to the side and smirking at me, causing my cheeks to turn red instantly.

"I'm good, really. I need to go pick up my mother." I said, sighing and noticing Jays hand still on my arm. It felt warm where he touched my skin. I felt a shiver run down my spine as he moved his thumb slightly up and then down on my arm.

"You've had more to drink then me; I wouldn't be a very good cop if I let you drive. Now would I?" Jay pointed out, gently releasing my arm when he was sure I wouldn't fall.

I really didn't want his help. I didn't want him to see my mother in whatever state she may be in. Sometimes when she's had one to many she could get really mean and not filter her thoughts. Not that she filtered them all that much when she was sober.

"You're not going to let it go are you?" I snapped at him, as he blocked the path to the door.

"Nope," He replied, giving me a devilish grin.

"Fine, you can drive." I said, rolling my eyes and feeling my stomach churn.