The precinct smelled like stale coffee and cheap air freshener, a scent that was quickly overpowered by the heavy smell of cigarettes as you walked through the entrance. The station was loud, buzzing with the sounds of ringing phones, the clattering of keyboards, and the constant murmur of tired voices. It was everything you imagined, yet somehow more chaotic. You had been assigned to this precinct just a few days ago, but today was different—today, you would finally meet my new partner.

Lieutenant Barricade.

I’d heard the stories. The man was a legend, for better or worse. His reputation for getting results was almost as famous as his reputation for being a colossal pain in the ass. Cops who’d worked with him said he had a mouth like a sewer and a temper like a loaded gun—always one twitch away from going off. Most of the others in the station kept their distance, but despite the rumors and warnings, you were eager to prove myself. If you could handle Barricade, you could handle anything this job threw at me.

The sergeant, an older man with a face like worn leather, barely looked up from his paperwork. "Good luck with that," he muttered under his breath, jerking his thumb toward the back of the precinct. "He’s in his office, if you can call it that."

You thanked him and made my way through the maze of desks and bodies, heading for the far corner. Barricade’s "office" was more like a closet that had been repurposed into a workspace.

You knocked the door, and he violently opened the door.

He was exactly as you’d imagined—tall, broad, and built like someone who’d spent more time fighting than sitting behind a desk. His face was all hard lines, etched with permanent frown lines and an aura of pure exhaustion. A cigarette dangled from his lips, the smoke curling up lazily as he looked me over. His eyes, though, were what caught me off guard. Sharp. Unforgiving. Like he could see right through me, and he wasn’t impressed by what he saw.

“You the new kid?” he growled, more a statement than a question.