Unseen Duty

Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER:

This story contains mature storylines that may be triggering for some audiences. Domestic violence is a theme in this story. If you or someone you know is experiencing abuse and needs support, the national hotline for the United States is 1-800-799-7233. If you are outside of the United States, resources can be found here: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_domestic_violence_hotlines. You are not alone.

Chapter 1:

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Um, yeah, the girl in the apartment next door sounds like she's getting her ass beat."

"What is the address and the apartment number?"

"101 South Hampton Street. She's in apartment #414—holy shit! You guys might want to get here quick; it sounds like she just got slammed into the fucking wall. Should I go check on her?"

"No, sir, please remain in your apartment for your own safety. I have patrol officers on their way. Thank you for calling in, is there anything else I can help you with tonight?"

"Uh, no, I'm good. Just tell the cops to hurry up."

"Will do, thank you again, sir." The line went dead.

A few panicked minutes later, loud knocking was heard on Apartment #414's door. "NYPD!" The rustling going on in the apartment became silenced. After waiting a couple moments and not getting a response, Captain Richard Haroldson sighed. "NYPD! Open up or we break the door down!"

On the other side of the door, the brunette beauty laid on the kitchen floor with a swollen left eye and blood dripping from both her nose and mouth. She tried to focus on her breathing and not the aching pain that was racing through her. Her vision was blurry, and a ringing was echoing in her ears. She felt herself fading in and out of consciousness every couple minutes. As a result, she didn't even realize that four NYPD officers were standing outside her door.

"Okay boys, on three: ONE..." two officers moved behind Captain Haroldson, "TWO..." the third officer moved on the other side of the door, "THREE!" Captain Haroldson grabbed the handle of the door and pushed his shoulder against the center, breaking the lock and allowing their entrance. "NYPD!"

The apartment was hauntingly quiet and unnervingly a mess. Shattered glass scattered the floor. "Young and Bronson, down the hall, check the bedrooms. Jonas, the kitchen. I'll get the living room." The men nodded at each other and obeyed their orders.

"Bedroom is clear!"

"So is living roo—"

"Holy shit! Get a fucking ambulance!" Officer Nick Jonas called from the kitchen. "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!" he said more quietly to himself as his eyes found the battered girl laying on the ground. He attempted to dodge the broken glass on the floor as he ran towards her. He kneeled in front of her, taking in her appearance. Her face was swollen but he couldn't miss the strikingly blue color of her eyes... well, her right eye, the one that wasn't completely beaten shut. The blue of her eye was so noticeable against the dark purple, black and dark red that covered the rest of her face. Her chest was rising and falling quickly; he couldn't tell if it was out of relief or nerves. Tears started to stream down her face. "Hey," he whispered to her. "It's going to be okay. We're here to help you." He moved closer to her on the floor and lifted her into his arms, giving her the comfort that she craved for years, yet had never received until now.

"Fuck, he really was trying to kill her," Officer Derek Young spoke as he entered the kitchen.

Nick glared at him, scolding him for harsh words. He looked down at the girl in his arms, sympathy taking over his body. She looked so broken lying there in his arms. She couldn't have been much younger than him, but her current state made her look like a fragile child. "What's your name?" Nick started to interrogate.