Hard to Fight

Vance laughs again, throwing his head back. His long blonde hair flickers about and when his blue eyes meet mine again, they are positively dancing. “You don’t know what I would have done to be there and see that.”

“I have old man hair in my brush!” I cry, throwing my hands up.

“Aw, come on Gracie, it was funny.”

“It wasn’t funny,” I mutter, shoving away from the desk and standing, tucking my laptop under my armpit. “Ya’ll will never take me seriously.”

Vance stops laughing and reaches out, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Of course we do. We can’t help that you had to bring in a crazy.”

“You knew he was crazy!” I point out, shrugging his hand off my shoulder and walking towards my boss’ door. “I don’t know what you guys think is so funny about it all.”

“But you’re damned cute out there on the job, Gracie Lou.”

“You’ve only seen me a handful of times,” I argue.

“And you’re cute,” he smirks.

I grit my teeth, flip him the bird and knock on Don’s door.

“Yeah?” he calls out.

I swing the door open and step in, staring at my boss. He’s sitting behind his desk, typing on a computer. He looks up when I enter, staring at me over the top of his glasses. He’s middle aged, with salt and pepper hair and dark grey eyes. He’s a great boss, he gave me a chance when no one else would, but he’s also hard to convince that I can handle bigger jobs than men like Cole.

“How did it go with Cole?” he asks.

Did his lips just twitch?

My heart clenches. I’m tired of being made into a joke. He might have taken me on, given me a chance when no one else would, but I don’t believe he truly believes I can be a successful Bounty Hunter.

“You’re never going to take me seriously, are you Don?”

My voice comes out softer than I’d like, sounding tired and generally worn down. Don’s eyes flash, and he looks as though he doesn’t understand why I’d be so upset. Is he really that blind?

“Gracie,” he begins, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand.

“Don’t bother. I’ve been here five years, and I’ve worked my ass off trying to prove to you that I’m worth the effort. But you’re never going to believe I’m good enough.” I place the laptop down, then continue. “I’m always going to be the joke, aren’t I?”

Without giving him a chance to answer, I turn and leave the office.

* * *

The liquid burns my throat as it slides down, hitting my stomach with brutal force and causing my world to spin even more than it already is. I close my eyes, inhaling through my mouth, because I’m fairly sure I’ve got no nose hairs left after breathing in the burning alcohol I’ve been shooting down for the last three hours.

“Another!” My best friend, Kady, yells.

The bartender looks at me, then to her, and shrugs.

“I can’t believe they made me go after a dude that wanted me to brush his freaking nonexistent hair,” I hiccup.

Kady turns to me, flashing that award-winning smile as she leans in close, curling her fingers around my arm. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re bad ass.”

I laugh and fist bump the air. “Bad ass!”

We fall into a fit of laughter, and Kady wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. Her voice drops low and she whispers, “I know it’s hard, honey, but one day, you’re going to prove them wrong.”

I lose my smile and even through my drunken haze, there’s an ache in my heart I can’t shake. There’s nothing crueler then when the people you love don’t believe in you. I not only get it at work, but at home too. My mother and two sisters are beauty queens. So to say they’ve never supported my need to ‘be in a male profession’ is an understatement. My mother is waiting for the day I turn around, throw in the towel and declare my undying love for parades, bikinis and world peace.

My dad, however, is my rock. He believes in me and it wouldn’t matter if I decided cleaning toilets was what I wanted to do. He’s just that kind of dad. The kind of dad all dads should be. The kind that is there for me no matter what and with no questions asked. Without him, I would have never fought so hard to train and get to where I am. He used to sit up with me for hours after every case, letting me talk for as long as I needed to, then, before he kissed me goodnight, he always told me how proud he was. After I moved out of home and rented my own place, I missed those moments.

He always understood my need for it. After all, it was because of him that I chose to become a Bounty Hunter. He was one, and used to spend hours telling me about his job. It was our thing, our bond, when my mother and sisters were out, my dad and I would laugh and chat, and it was then he would tell me stories. I loved it. It wasn’t just that it was different; it was that he was also doing something good. Something amazing. Keeping criminals off the streets. I knew it was what I wanted to do.

I also knew how hard it would be for me to get into. I had to train, I had to pass tests, I had to be Don’s sidekick for eighteen months before I even got a chance to go on the job alone. It wasn’t easy. I spent years proving myself. Still, I fought until I made my dream come true.

“Thank you, Kady,” I smile, hugging my best friend.

Kady and I have known each other since high school, and had an instant connection. She’s as loud and sassy as me, and there are times it feels as though we were separated at birth. We even look similar, with our long raven hair and piercing green eyes. The only real difference is Kady is taller and leaner, and I was struck with the curves.

“I really have to pee,” she says suddenly, and then her grin appears once more.

“Me too,” I admit.

Hooking arms, we leave the bar after shooting the last order of alcohol. We weave through the dancing, grinding bodies until we hit the long halls that lead to the toilet. There are women standing in line, waiting for the bathroom. Kady groans and tugs my arm, yelling in my ear, “Let’s go out back. I used to work here.”

She pulls me down the hall, past the people and through a large metal door at the end. It opens onto a parking lot and sure enough, there are bathrooms nestled in the large brick building running alongside the club. Kady pulls me over and we use the facilities and fix up our make up before stepping back out.

We’re about to enter the club again, when I hear a soft whimper. Narrowing my eyes, I turn and scan the car park. I can’t see anyone, but there’s a distinct sobbing sound coming from somewhere. “Do you hear that?” I ask Kady.

“I do.”

We investigate, and find a girl crouched around the side of the building. She hears our approach and pulls her knees closer to her chest. She’s gorgeous, blonde and looks up at us with mascara-stained cheeks.

“Are you okay?” I ask, kneeling down in front of her.

“I’m fine,” she sobs, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

“Are you sure?” I push. “You look upset.”

Way to point out the obvious, Grace.

She stares at the both of us, and then begins sobbing again. “My boyfriend dumped me!”

“This calls for alcohol,” Kady announces. “I’ll be back.”