Hector sat back and watched as Miguel poured two glasses of apple juice, brought them to the table then went back to the stove.
“Thanks for breakfast. It’s tough chasing after bad guys with nothing but cold cereal for energy. I’ve almost fainted a few times.”
Miguel turned back around to look at him, his dark eyes wide with concern. “That’s not good, Hector. You need to eat.”
“I’m kidding,” Hector said with a grin. “Besides, I rarely chase people. I just watch ‘em through my scope before I take ‘em down.” He raised his hands, miming holding a rifle. Miguel’s spine locked for a hairsbreadth of a second before he relaxed and laughed at the joke. The reaction was so quick Hector almost missed it. But he was trained to watch people. Miguel didn’t like the reference to guns. Hector would have to remember that and be mindful of it from now on. He changed the subject. “What are your plans for today?”
Miguel dished the fried eggs and vegetable mix onto a platter. He brought it and a bowl of salsa to the table. “I’ll be online job searching,” he said as he sat down. “I want to get as many job applications completed as I can every day until I find something. Is it all right if I borrow your computer? If not, it’s okay. I can catch the bus to the library.”
“No reason for you to go all the way to the library when my laptop is just sitting there,” Hector answered as he spooned the breakfast dish onto his plate and added a liberal helping of salsa. The guest password to unlock the computer is SWAT713. Just make sure if you take a porn break, you go incognito so I don’t get any viruses on my computer.”
Miguel sputtered, choking on the bite of eggs he’d just swallowed. “I wouldn’t use your computer for that!”
“If you say so,” Hector teased with a wink. They continued discussing Miguel’s job search as they ate. Miguel was nervous but excited to get started. Hector mostly listened. He didn’t know much about the dental field other than the fact he hated the cherry version of that fluoride treatment they used. He preferred the mint.
“I guess it doesn’t matter which side of town I look for a job since I’ll be moving after I start working anyway. I can find a place close to where I work. My main concern is to find something off a bus line since I don’t have a car.”
Hector nodded. “That’s smart.”
Miguel did a little bounce in his chair. “I’m so excited! I started to look for a job when I graduated but Santos—” He pressed his lips together, some of the excitement fading from his expression. “It’ll be cool to finally start my career.”
“As long as you don’t try to remove any teeth with the string tied around a doorknob method, you should be fine.”
“Hey! I was seven when I suggested that. And your mom caught us before we went through with it.”
“My gums are eternally grateful we were busted,” Hector said with a dry laugh. He ate the last bite of eggs then drained his apple juice. Leaning back in his chair, Hector let out a satisfied groan. “That was the best breakfast I’ve had since I moved out of my mom’s house. Thank you.” He got up to rinse his plate, glancing at the time on the microwave as he did. He was usually on the road by now. Sitting down to an actual meal had him running slightly behind schedule.
“I need to go. Call me if you need anything.” He stopped, remembering that Miguel didn’t have a cell. And Hector hadn’t had a house phone in years, which meant Miguel wouldn’t have a way to call anyone if he needed to. “Shit.” He took his phone from his pants pocket and held it out to Miguel. “Here. I’m leaving you my phone. Dispatch is in contacts under D. That’s the easiest way to get a hold of me.”
Miguel started to protest but Hector cut him off.
“I’m not leaving you here without a way to reach me if something happens. When I get home, we’ll go and get you a new phone.” Miguel’s shoulders slumped as he accepted the cell, but there was nothing for it. Miguel was going to have to accept some financial help for the time being. Hector said goodbye, grabbed his bag, and headed out.
After navigating headache-inducing Houston traffic for forty-five minutes, Hector pulled into the parking garage of the Houston Police Department. The structure echoed with the slamming of car doors and voices calling out to one another as other officers on the morning shift arrived. Hector greeted a few cops he knew by name, nodding at others on his way to the elevator. With the car full, the ride up to the floor where SWAT was located was a slow one. The elevator stopped at nearly every level to let someone out.
When they finally reached his floor, Hector excused himself to get past the two cops standing in front of him to step out into a hallway bustling with people. The crowd was typical for a Monday, especially since it was the start of the shift change. He walked down the hallway until he reached the area where it widened into a large open space on the left side. Toward the front were two large free-standing dry-erase boards. One was set up with the rotation calendar for the three SWAT teams for their department. The other had a name, address, and a quickly sketched out map written in bold, black dry-erase ink.
Their work area consisted of rows of metal desks. A low glass and steel wall—prompting them to nickname it the Pen—surrounded the setup. Each desk held a computer, phone, various trays filled with paperwork, and whatever personal items officers cared enough to keep at work. Hector had a framed picture of his mother, sister, and brother, a stress ball, and not much else.
He sat down and turned on his computer. The desk across from him was empty. Clay Foster, the officer who usually sat there, was on his honeymoon. He’d married their former sergeant, Logan Pierce, this past weekend. Hector wished them both the best. They deserved it. Everyone else on the team was already there.
“Morning. How’s your houseguest?” Ryan Bennett, who sat one desk over and back, greeted him.
Hector swiveled his chair around to face the other cop. Ryan had been at the reception too, and he’d gotten an earful of Hector’s rant when his mother had called to say she’d moved Miguel into his apartment. “He’s not in the best shape, but he’ll be all right. Got mixed up with an asshole of a boyfriend and took a few hits.”
“Is he pressing charges?”
Ryan didn’t look surprised when Hector shook his head. Too often cops saw domestic abuse victims who didn’t want to press charges against their abusers. That number tended to rise when it was a same-sex couple. “He’s at my place now, job hunting. I told him he could stay there until he gets on his feet.”
“That’s decent of you.”
“I’m a paragon among men,” Hector said with a grin. “But seriously. It’s the least I could do. Like I said at the wedding, we used to be really close. It’s actually good to see him again after falling out of touch these past few years.”
“What kind of work is he looking for?”
“Dental assistant. He’s already graduated and has all his training; he just hasn’t entered the field yet.”
“Oh, yeah?” Ryan rocked back in his chair. “A cousin of mine has a dental practice. I could ask him if he knows about any openings.”