He scurried off the floor and shuffled behind me back to the truck.
I should have made him crawl.
We got back to the truck, and I calmly put the camera away. “You check the footage. Make sure we didn’t miss anything.” Fuck it. It was his fault, so he could do the extra work.
He picked the laptop up off the seat and opened it. “I’m sorry, man,” he said. “Look, you knew I was gay—“
“Fuck!” I yelled and spun on him as much as I could on the truck’s bench seat. If we’d been standing face to face, I’d have punched him.
“Do you really think that’s why I’m pissed?” I spit the words out. “If I’d given a shit, I would have asked for a new partner. Chief told me that if it got to be too much, he’d give me a new one—no questions asked.”
He opened his mouth to say something. I held up my hand.
“Don’t fucking speak,” I commanded. “I don’t give a flying fuck where your dick goes or where you stuff other dicks. I do fucking care when it puts one of us in danger. Got it?”
His eyes were wide and his fingers rested on the laptop keys without moving. I took his stunned nod as an emphatic ‘yes.’
“Good. You get the overwhelming urge to smoke a fucking pole on duty again, you’d better let me know. Hell, you can have mine. At least I’ll know where you are. Ever pull a stunt like that again.” I pointed to the park. “I’ll report you so fucking fast. You wouldn’t be able to get a security job guarding a fabric store. Understand?”