His Emancipator🖤 [His Duet #1]

CHAPTER ONE

Insomnia and newly done braids is not a very good combination for a working woman. Especially one who strongly believes Mondays should be optional.

Did I spend most of the night awake? Yes. Will I be using the I hate September because of the memories it brings excuse? Also yes. Still, I walk into the precinct twenty minutes after nine, bags under eyes covered with makeup.

Officers talk in low voices around their work stations as I trudge up the stairs to the cyber investigations/security room. My coworkers are hunched over their computers in a silence that surpasses a graveyard.

Peter, the most annoying one and our boss' lackey, approaches me after I shut the glass door. "Hey Keilz." He greets with fake enthusiasm.

"Hi. And don't call me that" I reply walking away clearly disinterested in continuing with the conversation.

He follows me. "Chief was looking for you."

"Of course he was." I mutter under my breath.

"What?"

Reaching my desk, I put my bag and laptop on it and turn to face the persistent bug behind me. "I'll go see him. You can go back to your desk now." I shoo him away.

Peter and I have had a mutual hate ever since I made fun of our boss Mark Roach.

It's not like what I said was wrong. All I said was that I understood why he's called Roach because he is shaped like a cockroach and might have added that his bald head is so shiny it could be used as a mirror or for skating. But then big mouth Peter went and told him.

Point is, Peter is not my favorite person at the moment or ever. It's like he holds some type of grudge on me. If it's because I'm a better computer expert than him, I'll never know and quite frankly I don't give a damn.

I remove my wallet from my bag, planning on grabbing coffee after I see Roach. Easing out to the hallway we share with our two bosses, I spot Mark through his glass walls having a heated conversation with a young man.

I slowly start towards Mark's office who apparently decides he's done with whatever conversation he was having with the man by forcefully opening his door for the man. Judging by the way the man stays rooted to where he's standing I'd say he's not ready to drop the subject.

In the two years I've worked at this precinct I've known winning against Mark Roach is simply impossible. He continues ignoring the man's words by opening the door wider. Intrigued, I inch even closer to eavesdrop. "It has been three weeks and you keep telling me the same thing!" The man retorts, reluctantly stepping out of the office.

"We are the police! Allow us to do our fucking job!" Mark shouts and bangs the door in his face. I watch as the now distraught man releases a deep exhale and takes a seat on the three seater padded chairs outside Mark's office.