Chapter 4: Fight Back

Lucy

"Boot, what is wrong with you?" Tim asked, as we started our patrol that morning.

I realized I had been rather quiet than my normal chatty self—which Tim hated most of the time anyway—but enough so that he could tell something was off to ask me about it.

"I'm fine," I lied.

"Ok. Just as long as it doesn't impact the work," he reminded.

"Yeah," I agreed, looking back out the window as the houses passed us by.

After another couple of minutes of silence, I looked away from the window and back at Tim. "Ok, there is something."

He sighed. "Yeah, I cracked that code."

"But it's personal, and I know you don't like talking about anything personal in the shop, so I get it…" I rambled on.

"Boot! Spill it."

I exhaled. "Ok, well, you know I have been dating Connor right?" I asked.

Tim nodded.

"Well, apparently, today is thirty days since we met after the whole being trapped in the shipping container and went on a date. I didn't even think thirty days was a thing, but Connor brought it up this morning and…"

Tim took his eyes off the road to glance at me. "And what?"

I sucked in my bottom lip. "He seems to think it's a big deal."

"Aren't anniversaries always a big deal to you women?"

"Yes. No. Well, major anniversaries like in years or when you're married, not thirty days." I sighed. "Am I a horrible person because I…you know…"

"You have to spell it out for me here, Boot."

I groaned. "Forget it."

I should have known better than to ask Tim Bradford. Of course he would only make light of the conversation and tease me about it instead of offering any real advice.

"Ok, come on," Tim said, turning back to look at me again. "Is today important to you?" he asked.

"I mean, it's been thirty days," I rebutted. "With our schedulers we have only gone on a handful of dates, and I mean we usually talk daily, but…"

"But…"

"It's new. It's casual," I replied even sounding to casual.

"Does he know that?"

"I—" I stopped; thinking about his question for a moment. "You know, I really don't know."

"Maybe that's the problem," he offered. "Maybe he doesn't know where you stand."

"It's because it's only been thirty days," I moaned. "I mean, would you make a big deal over thirty days? Did you do anything like that with Isabel?"

Normally, I would never invoke Isabel's name, but it seemed like after the incident where Tim and I had been boxed in at the hands of the serial killer known as 'The Sleeper,' he seemed lighter when it came to talking about Isabel and his past. As if he somehow had exercised some demons with their history. He wasn't fully over it—and part of me ever wondered if he would—but the Tim I saw in the motel room that day we rescued Isabel from the drug dealers—he hasn't returned.

"Personally, I never saw all the pomp and circumstance with those sorts of things."

My mouth dropped. "Of course not. How romantic you must be."

"Hey. Just because I don't see anniversaries the same way you ladies do, does not mean I am not a romantic person." He paused. "Why am I even arguing with you. We don't talk personal stuff in the shop."

I ignored his agitation. "Because anniversaries are a great way to memorialize the commitment you made to each other. Your love for each other."

"Personally, I don't know why you need it, but we aren't talking about me here, Boot. You're deflecting." I swallowed and looked out the window again. "What it sounds like to me is that you and Connor don't seem to be on the same page."

I let out a long breath. "No, we don't seem to be. I just don't want to hurt his feelings. I like him, but I am just not ready to be…there yet," I said, trying to think of the right words.

"Then tell him," Tim suggested.

I glanced at him. "What if I hurt his feelings?"

"It's better than the alternative. Him thinking you are in the same place as him when you aren't. Trust me, Boot, it will only make things harder down the road."

I didn't say anything, because part of me wondered if he was speaking from experience with Isabel. It was clear there was a time that Tim was still holding on to what he and Isabel had to where they were now. It was admirable because it showed how much he loved Isabel and what they had together, but it also put blinders on that he couldn't see the life they once had wasn't there anymore.

I smiled to myself. Maybe Tim Bradford was more of a romantic than I initially thought about him.

"7-Adam-19, reports of a noise complaint and heavy biker activity at Florence and Central Avenue. Business is requesting immediate officer assistance," dispatch cut in.

Tim picked up the radio. "7-Adam-19, show us responding," Tim confirmed, flipping on the lights and sirens as we headed in the direction of the restaurant and bar.

As Tim pulled into the parking lot, there had to be at least fifty bikers present with half of them standing outside with drinks in their hands. Loud music from their bikes was playing that could be heard two blocks away.

All of the bikers heads turned as soon as they saw our lights and patrol car approaching. They clearly looked as if they did not like that we were there.

"Shouldn't we call for backup?" I asked, once Tim parked the SUV.

"No."

"There is no way you and I can take on fifty plus bikers. Half of these guys are twice our size," I pointed out, looking at the large bald man that was approaching our vehicle in front of the others.

He had to be about six-two maybe six-three in height with a large round gut that matched his round face with a beard and angry expression.

Tim picked up the radio and turned on the external speaker. "Back up," he ordered.

I didn't think it would work, but the—who I assumed was the leader—growled, narrowed his eyes, and took a step back, the rest of his crew coming to form a circle around him.

A female approached at his right side, not much smaller in size, also with no sleeves to match their black biker vests, and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Ok, what do you suggest we do?" I asked.

"You'll see," he said.

We got out of the SUV, and approached as we stopped in front of our vehicle shoulder to shoulder.

"Here's the deal. The establishment doesn't want to you here and neither do we," Tim announced.

"Yeah, but we like it here," one of the bikers yelled out, eliciting hoots and hollers from the rest of the crew.

"Clear out!" Tim ordered.

The leader of the group step forward and sneered. "Make us."

Tim smiled. "I don't need to. Officer Chen here will make you."

He turned that smile on me, my eyes going round and saucers. I know the expression on my face had to tell him there was no possible way in hell I would be able to make a group as large as this one leave just by telling them so.

"Uh, Tim…" I whispered harshly.

He ignored me and turned back to the biker leader. "Here's the deal. Officer Chen here is going to fight your lady here. If my Boot wins, your lady catches a felony charge and you all clear out and don't come back."

The leader smirked looking from me to his lady as if the proposal was a laughable thing. The leaders lady obviously felt the same way.

At five-eleven or possibly six-one, her body frame was built like a linebacker. She didn't need to spend time at the gym when she hung out with a crowd like this and rode a bike everyday.

"And if we win?" The leader asked.

"Then Officer Chen and I will leave, no felony, and we will ensure no one comes back for the day regarding further noise complaints."

"Tim!" I gawked.

The leader looked between Tim and I and smiled. "You got yourselves a deal. My Loretta against her," he declared looking at me as if I didn't have a chance.

"Deal," agreed Tim.

Tim pulled me aside as his biker crowd started to ease back.

"What the hell was that?" I demanded.

"Another lesson, Boot."

"What kind of lesson is that?" I shrieked.

"Do you think the department can really spare the amount of officers that would be needed to clear a crowd like this?" He pointed to the group that was looking at me like a dog salivating for a bone. "Not to mention, if we did clear them out, they would only come back a few hours later."

"I am failing to see the point here," I said impatiently.

"The point, Boot, is that you need to be able to assess your circumstances, think on your feet on how to handle a situation when you may not have resources and backup at your fingertips."

Despite my annoyance, his reasoning was logical. I still didn't know why I had to be the one to do it.

"But, why me?" I unbuckled my duty belt to hand it to him. There was no way I would give her any opportunity or this crowd to get a hold of my gun or equipment. "Why don't you fight the lurch over there?" I angled my head to empathize the leader growing impatient with us.

"Like all things, Boot. Another test," he answered, taking my duty belt from me and sliding it over his shoulder.

"Are we going to do this or what?" Loretta shouted, her beefy arms crossed over her chest as she sported a scowl.

Tim's lip quirked upwards. "Yeah, let's go, Boot."

I scowled at him, before I stepped forward, the biker crowd forming a circle between Loretta and me, while Tim eased back by our patrol car.

"Scared little girl," Loretta taunted.

I brought up my fists into a stance I had learned early on in the academy. Most times I would consider immediately going on the offense, but Loretta was close to Tim's height and far more stockier than me. Going on defense to see how she moved and her techniques was the smarter move.

Loretta lunged for me, but I quickly dodged out of her way. Her large hand reached out again, but I managed to swat it away, but not before she grabbed the collar of my uniform and dragged me back to her.

"I am going to enjoy beating you to a pulp," she threatened.

"Yeah, enjoy this!" I leaned my head back and came at her head in full force.

It was enough that Loretta stumbled back, letting me go. I didn't want to give her time to bounce back, but even through her stumble, she caught my running jump coming at her. I pivoted, wrapping my legs around her waist as I moved towards her back, but she instantly grabbed hold of my arm and flung me down on the ground, my back slamming into the pavement with such force, the wind knocked out of me.

I saw her fist hurling towards my face before I could even stop it, the force of her knuckles making contact with my eye, snapping my head back into the pavement.

"Come on, Boot!"

Tim's voice broke through the haze, just as Loretta followed up with another punch to my gut, her fist winding backwards to strike me again in the face.

I lifted my leg, shoving her back with all my force, Loretta stumbling from my kick. I could feel warm liquid start to bubble at my eye where Loretta socked me.

I briefly glanced at Tim, whose hand was on his gun, but his head titled to signal for me to get back in the fight.

Loretta growled as she came at me again with full force, her arms winding around my waist ready to take me back to the ground, but I used the momentum and the fact that I was lighter and able to move quicker to my advantage.

As we landed on the ground, I grabbed hold of her wrist and rolled so that she was now on the ground and me on the side, pulling her arm back. She tried to reach out to grab at my pulled back bun; but I leaned back, taking her arm further with me, until I could hear a slight pop and groan from Loretta.

She growled, but I held firm, punching her in the side, before using all my strength change my position so I could perfect the hold.

Loretta thrashed at me, trying to bring her other arm around to grab hold of me. I managed to use my elbow to crack her in the head. She groaned; losing some of her strength.

I kept holding even through her thrashing, aware that some of her biker crew was moving forward. Tim unholstered his gun and demanded they step back per the agreement with the fight.

Loretta's elbow cracked me in the lip through her thrashing, but I held, landing another punch to her side and her face. It was enough of a blow that I was able to maneuver my body to maintain the firm hold on her arm, and use my other arm to put her in a sleeper hold.

After another fifteen to twenty seconds, Loretta's body went limp. I pushed her heavy body off of me, as I rolled on my back to catch my breath.

Tim was at my side, as he rolled Loretta over and placed the cuffs on her back.

"You ok, Boot?"

I was still panting heavily as I pushed myself to a sitting position, my lip throbbing and my eye still bleeding.

"Never better," I said sarcastically.

"If you're done complaining, a little help." He looked down at a groaning Loretta who was just starting to gain back her consciousness.

I looked at him like I wanted to do the same, but I rolled to my knees, grabbing Loretta's other arm, grunting as we both pulled her to her feet.

"You have the right to remain silent," Tim started, as the biker crew groaned and hollered at the fact that things didn't go their way.

Tim and I shoved Loretta in the back of our SUV before coming back to face the leader of the group.

"You have ten minutes to clear out. Quietly. Don't come back here," Tim demanded.

The biker leader growled, shooting me a look that could kill before he signaled to his crew to move along.

As they turned away, Tim was already coming back toward the front with the first aid kit, handing me a piece of gauze to hold to my eye that was still bleeding.

"You did good, Boot," he praised.

I held the gauze to my eye, wincing at the contact. He pulled out another fresh piece, wetting it with some solution, before he moved my hand away and started to wipe along the side of my face and upwards towards the cut.

I winced, once he reached my cut, pulling back. He eased off for a moment, before starting to dab at it gently this time.

"Oh, stop, it's not that bad."

"Next time, feel free to use your body instead," I barked. "Ow!"

He pulled back to fold the gauze and wipe again, his breath fanning against my cheek. "Doesn't need stitches. A butterfly bandage with do."

"Great!" I muttered sarcastically.

He turned back to the first aid kit, grabbing the bandage and gently securing it in place, before he softly grabbed my chin to take a look at what I already knew was a split lip.

"You handled yourself well," he remarked. If I didn't know any better, I was sure there was an impressed note in his tone.

"So, did I pass the lesson?"

"Did you?" he countered.

I exhaled. "Considering we managed to move the entire biker gang ourselves and arrested Loretta on a felony charge, I would say, yes."

He smiled proudly. "Call it in, Officer Chen."

"7-Adam-19, Code 4, one in custody for felony assault against a police officer," I announced.

"Copy, 7-Adam-19."

Tim and I waited as the last of the bikers left before we transported Loretta back to the station. I took the time to quickly head to the locker room to change out of my uniform that sported some of my blood from my eye, into a clean shirt and pants and cleaned up my face. Well, as much as I could anyway.

I winced; as my fingers played at the edges of the cut above my eye, almost two coats of makeup just underneath my eye to try and cover the purple and black and blue bruising that had already formed.

My lip wasn't any better. My entire right bottom was swollen with a cut going from point to point.

"Just great," I muttered.

Tim said nothing as we went back out on patrol for another couple of hours before stopping for lunch.

"Agh, what happened to your face?" Jackson asked, as I sat down with my cup of soup at our table.

"Another of my lovely T.O.s lessons," I answered.

John frowned. "Did you at least win?"

I smiled, which only made my lip stretch and hurt even more. "Yes. Besides, you should see her face."

"That's what I am talking about," Jackson remarked, offering me a high-five.

I pushed the soup around with my spoon, keeping my face down and hidden from most that passed us by. It didn't do any good, as Harper stopped mid-stride with her burrito from reaching her mouth, before she continued to the table with the rest of the T.O.S.

"Great. There is no way I can go to dinner with Connor like this. Everyone will be staring, and I know he put a lot of effort into dinner tonight," I muttered.

"I am sure he will understand," John offered, trying to find the good in the situation.

"You could always reschedule," Jackson suggested.

I sighed. "Normally, I would, but I still feel a little bad that I hadn't taken the fact that we just reached thirty days as important as he had."

Jackson snickered. "Thirty days. Isn't that a little soon to be celebrating anniversaries?"

I dropped my spoon in the cup. "That's what I said."

John took another bite of his sandwhich. "I think it's sweet."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course you would, you're a hopeless romantic," I pointed out. "No, I think my T.O. Just enjoys causing me misery. He is probably over there right now, laughing at the fact because he knew about this dinner tonight."

"Or maybe he just gave you the perfect reason not to go," John countered.

I abandoned my soup, pushing it away. "What does that mean?"

Jackson looked from me to John with a grin. John started to chew his bite more slowly at my expected gaze.

"Just that, you didn't seem awfully excited this morning when you talked about it, and you certainly don't seem excited about it now," he clarified.

"Well, can you blame me? Look at my face!"

"That is before that even happened to your face," he replied, pointing to the obvious cuts and bruises. "I think you just aren't excited about tonight."

"I like Connor. I do," I objected.

"No one is saying you don't. It's just maybe where you are compared to where he is at," John explained.

"Boot! Let's go!"

I turned at the sound of Tim calling my name.

"Good luck," Jackson and John both said, as I picked up my soup and threw it in the trash.

Tim

"Let me guess, you did your fight lesson today," Lopez said, as she pulled out the chair next to Harper and I and took a large bite of her burrito.

"She handled herself well," I said.

Lopez laughed, adding through a mouthful of chewed up burrito, "You wouldn't be able to tell by her face."

"She'll be fine. She's seen much worse," I defended.

Lopez dropped her burrito, putting her hands up as she wiped them with a napkin, and took a sip of her drink. "I am not criticizing your method. I think it's smart. Rookies need to learn how to think and act in circumstances that are stacked against them."

I took a sip of my own.

"How big was the opponent?" Harper asked. I grinned. "That bad, huh?" she chuckled.

I looked over at the table of our rookies. "What do you guys think of our current Boots?"

Harper chomped down on a potato chip. "If you tell anyone I said this, I would deny it, but they are probably the best we have had collectively in a while. They each of some strengths and weaknesses overall, but as a whole, I haven't felt this comfortable early on with having any one of them on my six."

"Agreed," Lopez added. "Then again, Harper is just saying that because she got the tap today."

"You got the tap?" I asked.

Harper grinned. "Don't get too excited. It's just the tap. I still have to study."

"Pfft, you could take it now and pass that with flying colors. Besides, you have done more U.C. assignments than anyone else and successfully. They would be an idiot not to take you," said Lopez.

"Congrats," I added. "I agree with Lopez, even though I would miss you as a T.O."

"Thank you," Harper said. "Word on the street is your Boot may be interested in undercover work."

I tensed. "She isn't ready yet."

"No one is ever fully ready," Harper said.

I slammed my cup back on the table a little harder than I intended. "She should focus on mastering patrol before anything else."

Lopez's brows shot up. "You sure your history with Isabel doesn't have something to do with it?"

"We're not having this conversation," I said, grabbing my drink and wrapper to stand. "And no, it doesn't." I glanced up towards the table where the rookies were sitting. "Boot! Let's go!"

Even from here, I could see the exasperated look on Lucy's face, as she grabbed her drink and cup of soup and left the table.

I grabbed my backpack from the locker room, making my way out towards the station with one final thing to do before I left for the day.

As I almost reached the main station, I found Lucy in the corner with a large block of ice wrapped in a towel held against her face as she faced the mirror.

"Boot!"

Lucy turned at the sound of my voice, her hand slowly dropping the ice pack from her hand.

"Did I forget something?" she asked, her mind already mentally going through her checklist.

"Yeah," I answered. "Give me this," I said, taking the large bulky ice pack from her hand, throwing it to the nearest bench.

I pulled my backpack from my shoulder, unzipping the pocket and producing a small bag of peas, before zipping back up my bag and securing it back over my shoulder.

"Here," I said, approaching slowly as I lifted the small bag of peas to her face, pressing gently but with enough pressure that it touched every part of the bruise that was swelling.

I felt a little bad. I had no doubts after the months we spent together that Lucy had the talent and the ability to win in an impossible situation, but I hated the fact she took a couple of hits. It took everything in me not to intervene when Loretta cracked her in the eye, regardless of whatever deal I had struck, but I knew she would never forgive me if I didn't let it play out. I would have ended it before anything serious happened to her.

She winced at first, but then her muscles in her face visibly relaxed. "That feels better," she sighed contently.

"Peas always work best. They're softer and frame your face and get the entire impacted area."

I was mad at myself for not checking in earlier to make sure she was treating her wounds properly. She had to be fighting through pain from the swelling not having the appropriate cold pack in place.

Lucy smiled, as I held the cold peas to her cheek. "Speaking from experience?"

I shrugged casually. "I may have had a few in my time," I replied evasively.

She chuckled. "Only a few?"

She brought her hand up to take over holding the bag in place, our fingers grazing in passing before I withdrew my hand, and brought it back to my side.

She was looking at me differently as if she was surprised I would take an interest in her care and wellbeing. Like I was some puzzle piece she was trying to determine where I belonged.

I cleared my throat and stepped back to put space between us. "You did good today, Boot."

"You mean besides getting my face completely wrecked."

"Even in spite of that," I teased. "And, hey, you don't look that bad."

She slapped me, and sighed. "So, Connor is going to be here any minute." She bit her lip. "On a scale of one to Frankenstein, how bad do you think he is going to freak out when he sees me?"

"Chen, the man's a first responder. I am sure he has seen much worse."

She scoffed. "Yeah, but he isn't dating any of the train wrecks he has seen. Besides, I know how much time he spent putting into tonight and I already feel bad that I was not excited or appreciative about it before. I would hate to ruin it for him."

"Listen, if he is a smart man and cares about you like you have told me, he isn't going to care what your face looks like."

Lucy grunted. "Ok, ouch. You could have just said I would still be beautiful."

"I thought that was pretty obvious," I said sincerely, my gaze holding here.

Lucy's eyes went wide, and I realized what I had said. Something shifted between us in that moment, which suddenly made me uneasy. The silence lingered awkwardly for a minute or two, before she cleared her throat and said, "So, Nolan and Jackson think you might have purposely got me in a fight today so I wouldn't have to go to this fancy dinner Connor planned. How ridiculous is that idea?"

"Boot, what is my number one rule?"

Her eyes lit up as if she knew her answer was right before she even uttered the words. "That you don't talk personal stuff and you don't get involved."

I nodded. "Does it sound like I would care about your fancy dinner or worry about organizing some kind of fight, a fight that put your safety in jeopardy to get you out of a dinner?"

She laughed. "That does sound crazy, doesn't it?"

"After the day you had, I'll forgive you," I said.

"Lucy!"

We both turned to see Connor had walked into the station. Lucy lowered the bag of peas from her face and handed them back to me. Her cheek was a little red from the cold, but the swelling had already gone down considerably in the short period of time.

"Thanks," she said quickly.

I took the bag back, concealing it at my side, just as Connor stopped in front of us. He did his best to try and hide his shock at the nasty bruise under her eye and her puffy split lip.

"Hey," Lucy said, brushing a piece of her hair behind her ear, clearly concerned about what he thought of her appearance.

"Wow, your face…"

Idiot.

"I mean, I am just glad you're ok," he recovered quickly having seen her face fall.

"Listen, I know you had plans—"

"Actually," Connor interjected proud and smugly, "You know what I think would be best?"

Lucy looked a little taken back. "No…what?"

"If we just have a quiet night together, with pizza, beer, and a movie," Connor suggested.

Lucy's expression lit up with a mixture of relief and happiness. "That sounds amazing. How did you know?" She asked, her expression softening to a point where it looked as if she liked him a whole lot more with just that simple suggestion.

He turned on a charming smile. "I just know you, sweetie."

Sweetie ? This guy was a real idiot. How did Chen even like this guy.

"Thanks," she said.

I swear if this was a video game, I could see little hearts appear in her eyes.

"You ready to get out of here?" Connor asked.

Lucy smiled. "Yeah…" she gasped.

"What?" I asked suddenly on alert.

She turned to me, "Oh, sorry, I just realized I left my bag in the locker room. Stand down, Officer Bradford, all is well," she said through a smile. "I'll be right back," she added, turning to Conner.

"I'll be right here," he replied.

We watched as she walked towards the direction of the locker room and disappeared.

"Hey, listen man, thanks a lot for the tip you sent me earlier," he said, bumping me on the arm. "Your suggestion of a quiet night in with pizza, beer, and a movie did just the trick."

"Yeah," I acknowledged my eyes still trained on the locker room.

"I might have to hit you up again in the future, especially if I get in the dog house," he laughed, amused with himself. "You seem to know her so well."

"Yeah, listen, you guys have a great night," I interjected as I started to walk away.

"Hey, alright. Later, Tim man!"

I gritted my teeth.

For Lucy's sake, I just nodded instead of punching him. There was no way she could really be interested in this guy. He was too immature and kind of needy. Hopefully, she would see that soon.

Hopefully.