Weight of the Badge: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World Book 21) Read online

  WEIGHT OF THE BADGE

  An Everyday Heroes World Novel

  By T.R. Cupak

  CONTENTS

  Introduction

  Dedication

  Law Enforcement Oath of Honor

  A Police Officer’s Prayer

  Prologue

  1. Kade

  2. Britney

  3. Deacon

  4. Britney

  5. Kade

  6. Britney

  7. Kade

  8. Deacon

  9. Kade

  10. Britney

  11. Kade

  12. Britney

  13. Deacon

  14. Britney

  15. Kade

  16. Britney

  17. Kade

  18. Britney

  19. Kade

  20. Deacon

  21. Britney

  22. Kade

  23. Deacon

  24. Kade

  25. Deacon

  26. Kade

  27. Britney

  28. Kade

  29. Britney

  30. Kade

  31. Britney

  32. Kade

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Books Also by T.R. Cupak

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also Written By K. Bromberg

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead are entirely coincidental.

  © 2020 KB WORLDS. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

  Published by KB Worlds LLC.

  Cover Design by: Deborah Bradseth, Tugboat Design

  Cover Image: Man – Shutterstock #260741849

  Cover Image: Badge – Deposit Photo #208825218

  Editing by: Ellie McLove, My Brother’s Editor

  Beta Reader: Nancy Henderson

  Proofreading by: Laura Hull “Red Pen Princess”

  Proofreading by: Marjorie Lord

  Formatting by: Nancy Henderson

  Published in the United States of America

  WARNING: Weight of the Badge is for a mature audience.

  INTRODUCTION

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome to the Everyday Heroes World!

  I’m so excited you’ve picked up this book! Weight of the Badge is a book based on the world I created in my USA Today bestselling Everyday Heroes Series. While I may be finished writing this series (for now), various authors have signed on to keep them going. They will be bringing you all-new stories in the world you know while allowing you to revisit the characters you love.

  This book is entirely the work of the author who wrote it. While I allowed them to use the world I created and may have assisted in some of the plotting, I took no part in the writing or editing of the story. All praise can be directed their way.

  I truly hope you enjoy Weight of the Badge. If you’re interested in finding more authors who have written in the KB Worlds, you can visit www.kbworlds.com.

  Thank you for supporting the writers in this project and me.

  Happy Reading,

  K. Bromberg

  DEDICATION

  I dedicate this book to all the loved ones who lost their LEO to suicide. Law enforcement officers are people, just like any other person, and society tends to forget that.

  #ProudLEOWife

  LAW ENFORCEMENT OATH OF HONOR

  On my honor, I will never betray my badge, my integrity, my character or the public trust.

  I will always have the courage to hold myself and others accountable for our actions.

  I will always uphold the constitution, my community, and the agency I serve.

  A POLICE OFFICER’S PRAYER

  Lord I ask for courage.

  Courage to face and conquer my own fears.

  I ask for strength.

  Strength of body to protect others

  and strength of spirit to lead others.

  I ask for dedication.

  Dedication to my job, to do it well.

  Dedication to my community, to keep it safe.

  Give me Lord, concern for others who trust me

  and compassion for those who need me.

  And please Lord, through it all, be by my side.

  -Author Unknown

  PROLOGUE

  KADE

  “Promise, jerk-face,” my best friend Deacon says while he has me pinned to the dewy grass as we wait for his driver to pull the Bentley around. Goading Deacon, especially when it comes to his younger sister, is one of my favorite things to do, but today he’s in rare form.

  “What? All I said is that Britney looks good without her braces.” Repeating what got me laid out in the first place warrants his knee to my right side. “Alright, alright. I promise. You need to calm down, bro.”

  “Say the whole promise or I’ll—” He pauses, thinking about how he wants to finish his sentence. “Or I’ll kick your ass right now.” It takes everything I have not to laugh. Does he realize he sounds like a teenage girl?

  “Do I need to pinky swear?” I ask, poking fun at him. Regardless, I can’t help laughing at Deacon’s threat. He may be an inch or so taller than me, but I have him beat when it comes to strength and endurance. The only reason I haven’t flipped him onto his back to show him who’s really the boss is that I’m bored, and the look on his bright red face is comical.

  “Fine. I promise to never hook-up with your sister,” I concede to Deacon’s request only because I noticed Britney approaching, and frankly, the damp grass is starting to penetrate through my school-issued blazer.

  Deacon leaps to his feet and holds out his hand to help me up. I reach up, and we lock our hands around each other’s wrists, and he yanks me to my feet. I straighten my clothes and grab my backpack off the ground.

  “What’d you do now?” Britney’s question is directed at me as she approaches us with caution. She learned the hard way never to get near Deacon and me when we’re rough-housing. Brit’s been tripped, kicked, elbowed. You name it, and the poor girl has endured it.

  “Nothing,” Deacon snaps out. Britney raises an eyebrow at her brother and shakes her head. At this point, she knows not to press him for details when he’s in one of his moods.

  Deacon and I have been best friends since kindergarten, and we all go to the same private school. Britney is a year behind us, and now that she’s growing out of her awkward stage, it is proving to be difficult not to look at her differently. I’m a guy. That’s what we do. Deacon doesn’t want me to think of his sister in any way other than off-limits.

  From where I stand, my peripheral vision allows me to catch Britney staring at me instead of the phone in her hand. When she realizes she’s busted, her cheeks blush, and at that moment, I regret making that ridiculous promise to Deacon. I’m so screwed.

  1

  KADE

  Present

  Dinner at Beaumont Manor, as I like to refer to my parents’ estate, is the same old shit just a different day. My father, Arthur Beaumont, continues to ride my ass for dropping out of Harv
ard my junior year to join Deacon at the police academy. He thinks I’m wasting my life in a mediocre career, whereas I know I would be miserable in a suit and tie sitting behind a big desk in an office with a view doing mundane crap every day.

  Yes, Deacon and I grew up privileged, but we weren’t blind to the world outside of our gated estates and top-notch private school education. Just because our fathers built their empires doesn’t mean the rest of the family, like Deacon’s uncle, wasn’t living out in the real world. Ever since we were kids, we hung on Uncle Bennett’s every word when he would tell us patrol stories. I should have known then that I wanted to be a cop and not my dad’s puppet.

  It wasn’t until winter break in my junior year when I went on my first ride-along with Deacon’s uncle while Deacon rode with his beat partner, Officer Coronado. It didn’t take long for either of us to decide that we didn’t want to follow in our parents’ footsteps and that we wanted to make a real difference in the world.

  It’s been just over four years since I became one of Los Paloma’s brothers in blue, and Arthur won’t let it go. He keeps insisting that I quit my thankless, blue-collar job to work under him at Beaumont Global, taking every opportunity to remind me of what I had been groomed for since I could walk. But the tech industry is my father’s thing, not mine. Dear ol’ dad doesn’t acknowledge that I’m S.W.A.T and in the Violence Suppression Unit, which is the fancy term for the gang unit.

  My mother, Beth, on the other hand, worries about my safety, and that is the only reason she disapproves of my career path. She sees my pride in being a law enforcement officer, and that it makes me happy, which makes her happy.

  Don’t get me wrong, the job sucks a lot of the time, and the media is no help. A pro-police news anchor can report a story that will show the officers are the heroes who helped save a woman who was getting carjacked. The flip side, the side with the cop-hating news anchor, will paint the officers in a bad light, claiming they used excessive force to take down the armed carjacker. Sadly, more cop haters are out there than I care to admit. My father isn’t one of them. Simply put, he hates that I chose the badge over him.

  My mom, Beth, is the one person who can intervene when my dad goes off the rails about me throwing my life away. She’s a saint, and she is the only person on this planet who can calm the beast that is Arthur Beaumont.

  My father is a cold, heartless, narcissistic son of a bitch, and the polar opposite to my mother’s warm, caring, and loving nature. I often wonder why she sticks around. She was the one born into money, whereas my dad was working in her father’s mailroom when they met.

  It was no secret that Grandpa didn’t care for my dad. He Arthur as a gold-digging suck-up. The only reason I know that tidbit of information is because we lived at my grandfather’s estate until I was thirteen, the year when Arthur made his first five million dollars and moved us out. But before the move, I used to chat it up with my grandfather’s personal chef, and he would tell me stories about my dad and grandfather’s constant battle over money and whether or not my dad could provide for my mother. In a way, I could blame Grandpa for how my dad is today, but if Arthur was anything like Grandpa’s chef described, my dad was already well on his way to being king of all assholes when he married the boss’s daughter.

  When my grandfather passed away, he left everything to my mom. His living trust assured my father wouldn’t get a dime. Grandpa left nothing open to interpretation by including specific wording stating that if my mother passed away before my father, their child or children would be equal beneficiaries. It also said that if something were to happen to both my mother and their offspring, his trust would then go to multiple charities. After I was born, my father was adamant about no more kids, so he got a vasectomy. My grandpa then set up another living trust in my name, and I gained access to the six million dollar inheritance on my twenty-fifth birthday.

  I know what you’re thinking. My career choice is like Mike Lowrey from the movie Bad Boys, except my parents are alive and well, and I don’t drive around in a Porsche. I prefer my Aston Martin Superleggera as my daily driver.

  “You know he’s hard on you because he loves you, right?” my mom tells me as she hugs me before I walk out of the large, handcrafted oak door.

  “If you say so.”

  “Kade—”

  “Mom, don’t. You need to accept the fact that Arthur and I will never be the father and son buddies you hoped we would be.”

  The disappointment on her porcelain doll face breaks my heart. I hate hurting my mom, but this is on my dad. If he could climb off his self-proclaimed “I am God” pedestal, then maybe we could at least be civil around each other.

  “I love you, son.” She leans up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. Mom immediately licks her thumb and wipes the remnants of her lipstick from my cheek as if I were a child.

  “Love you too.”

  “You and Deacon be safe tonight.”

  “We always are.”

  2

  BRITNEY

  “Dammit, Deacon. Stop messing with everything on my desk.” My brother is a twenty-seven-year-old child, and he’s grating on my last nerve. I’m about ready to call security and have him thrown out of my office when Kade struts in, looking sexy as hell. His black fitted t-shirt clings to his upper body showing off his muscular physique in contrast to his relaxed-fit jeans.

  “Not gonna happen,” Deacon whispers so only I can hear him. I can feel my face flush with embarrassment, and all I want to do is climb under my mahogany desk and hide until they leave.

  “You’re a dick,” I hiss out under my breath.

  “I see your dad has you working late.” Kade’s deep voice is music to my ears. I’ve had a crush on him since the fifth grade, but because my pain in the ass brother and Kade made some stupid pact when they were twelve, that put me off-limits to Kade, which also means I have to abide by their rule too.

  “Wine can’t ship itself,” I respond to Kade’s observation without looking away from my monitor. If I glance in his direction again, I have a feeling I won’t be able to take my eyes off him. After all these years, I should be immune to Kade and my sexual urges, but I’m not. And the way he stares at me melts my insides.

  “I’ll grab my shit out of my locker in the gym, and then we can leave,” Deacon tells Kade before heading out of my office. A few years ago, my father added a gym and lap pool for all of the employees to use, and because my brother likes coming here to harass me, he uses the gym as an excuse. Between his crazy work schedule and mine, this is the only time we get to catch up.

  “You look good, Brit.” His words halt my keystrokes on the keyboard in front of me.

  Don’t do it, Brit. Don’t you dare take your eyes off of the screen.

  “You always look good, Kade.” Dammit to hell. That was supposed to be my inside voice. When I look away from the monitor, Kade has closed what distance there was between us and is now standing right in front of my desk, close enough that I could reach out and touch him. His manly scent is an aphrodisiac, and if my brother weren’t here, I would probably take my chance and leap over my desk to kiss Kade’s perfect lips.

  “So, you do notice?” His voice is low and seductive. What is he doing?

  I begin to stand to answer Kade’s question when Deacon waltzes back into my office with his gym bag.

  “Let’s go. I want to grab a bite to eat before briefing.” My brother’s stern tone squelches the fire Kade had started deep in my core.

  “Do you want us to walk you out so you don’t have to go to your car alone?” Kade asks. That’s not something he’s ever asked before, even knowing my past. I go to answer him when Deacon, the twat-blocker, insists that I can take care of myself. He isn’t wrong, but I still wish he hadn’t interfered.

  MY LAST YEAR at California University, I was at a fraternity party when I started to feel off like my head wasn’t mine anymore. I immediately thought someone had roofied my drink, and all I wanted to do was leave the party b
efore that person, or someone else, took advantage of my inebriated state. Stupidly, I staggered out of the frat house without a sorority sister, which was a rule we girls at Delta Gamma took seriously. Never walk alone, especially at night or impaired.

  I vaguely remembered making it back to the DG house, but before I could make it inside, the world went dark. When I came to, I was in a bed at the clinic on Cal U’s campus, and my best friend and fellow sorority sister, Sydnee, was curled up, asleep in the bedside chair. She looked like she needed the rest, but I needed answers. After waking her, she filled me in on what she thought had happened. Although there was no mistaking I had been raped, I still had to do a rape kit to collect DNA and other evidence. It took a couple of weeks to get the official results, which confirmed what Sydnee and I thought had happened. I was raped and left in the bushes on the side of our house.

  The following few weeks were a blur. The rape and knowing my attacker was still out there turned me into a neurotic mess. I felt like I was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any moment. One minute I was completely okay, and the next, hysterically crying. Paranoia kept me looking over my shoulder wherever I was going, even if I was driving.

  Feeling ashamed didn’t help my current state, and in my head, I believed I had deserved what happened. The three things that replayed in my head were, one, I was the dumb girl who left a party without a friend. Two, I had let my guard down, thinking it was okay to accept a drink from someone I’d met before, but didn’t necessarily know much about them. And lastly, I was dressed in a silk cami and shorts pajama set with a matching robe because it was a PJ party. My poor choice of attire was what caused me to believe I had been an easy target, but plenty of ladies there had been dressed in less than me.

  Not knowing the identity of my rapist drove me insane because that meant he was still out there; that he could rape another female or me—again. But, video from the security cameras along sorority row and two of the Delta Gamma house cameras, in conjunction with campus police and the unwanted help of my police officer brother, the authorities were able to identify and arrest the guy who had raped me.