Detective Tripp Jamison sat at the bar, with a whiskey in his hand. This was the third time this week, he had been in this same spot. He had always loved being a cop, but lately it was loosing its appeal. He hated doing things by the book, and over the last month or so, he had decided to turn a blind eye, to some of the things that had happened in town.
The Stone Knight’s was one of those things. Since he had been assigned to a case, that had involved them, he found that maybe their way was better. When one of the bikers women had been kidnapped, and sealed in a mine, he had reported that one of the suspects got away. Of course, he knew for a fact that the bikers had taken care of that problem. He had even handed the man over to them.
Then another bikers woman, had an ex that was terrorizing her. He knew for a fact that the bikers had blown up the house the man had been staying in, but again he kept quiet. The club protected their own, so when the cops couldn’t find the ex, the bikers took matters into their own hands.
Tripp also hated paperwork, and he hated taking orders, two things a detective had to do daily. Thing had to be done by the book. If the bikers hadn’t taken over, in both those cases, the women would most likely have died. He hated to admit it, but he was getting sick of being a cop.
“What’s the matter”, his partner Darren Macks asked him. “Someone piss in your beer?”
“Fuck off”, Tripp told him angrily. “I’m just trying to get some things clear in my head”, he told him. Darren’s demeanour instantly changed to concern.
“You good”, he asked in concern.
“Not sure”, Tripp answered, as honestly as he could. Then he pushed away from the bar, and headed for the door. He didn’t feel bad at all, about leaving his partner to drink on his own. He was the type that wouldn’t be on alone long. As Tripp pushed through the exit, he saw a redhead heading in his partners direction. He shook his head, and headed for his bike.
No one knew Tripp rode, but Darren. It was frowned upon at work. Detectives were supposed to be the pillars of society, and the captain wanted them all to wear suits, and ride in nice cars. Tripp hated suits, and he hated cars more. He tried to follow the captains rules, but sometimes he just needed the freedom of his Harley.
He cranked the throttle, and headed for Liz’s place. Liz was his on again, off again girlfriend. Right now they were together, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before she pissed him off again, and he left. These days, she was always doing things to piss him off.
Tripp didn’t want anything serious, and so their relationship worked just fine for him. He was twenty five, and was in no hurry to settle down. Liz however, wanted a ring on her finger and a cookie cutter house. She huffed every time he blew her off, and threatened to find someone else. The thing was, Tripp didn’t care, and that only infuriated her more.
He pulled up in front of her house, and dropped the kickstand. Within minutes he was at the door, and she was greeting him with a kiss. He pushed her inside, and kicked the door shut behind him. He needed something to take the edge off, and she was it.
Two hours later, he was walking back out, with Liz following him, and begging him to stay. He refused, knowing the first time he did, he might as well move right in. That would definitely seal his fate, and he wanted no part of that.
He cranked his Harley, and headed to his place, at the far end of town. It was small, but he liked it that way. He pulled into the attached garage and headed inside. Things were quiet, just the way he liked them. He grabbed a beer out of his fridge, and headed for the shower.
Ten minutes later, he was done his shower, and the beer was gone. He towelled off, and grabbed a pair of boxers, then lay back on his bed. He crossed his arms under his head, and stared at the ceiling. He never used to be this way. He once had a life he liked, and a girl he loved.
Of course, nothing lasts. The girl ended up being the start of his downfall, and he couldn’t help blaming her for everything that happened after.