“Faith, the same thing could happen to you. Who’s to say you won’t get in an accident tomorrow and not make it, or something happens to you at school?” A shiver sneaks down my spine. She’s not wrong. I know Wren isn’t, but Jesus, it doesn’t help any, either.
“I know, and I’m trying to be strong, but it’s been hours without a single word from him, and the news is just a repeat circus.” I look at the clock. It’s almost time for me to start dinner for us, not that I’ve been able to eat a single thing today. The thought alone has me running to the bathroom. The only thing sustaining me is coffee.
“Why don’t you text him? That way, if he is busy, at least he knows you’re worried, and hey, he may respond and give you that little bit of comfort.” Wren is apparently the voice of reason today because I have yet to even think about doing that.
“You’re right. I should. But first, tell me all the things. How are you and Caleb? Anything new going on in the marital bliss department? I need my mind preoccupied for a little longer before I text, make Logan dinner, get us ready for the evening. I mean that way, I’ll stay busy.” Wren goes on to say that she and Caleb are doing amazing, which I had no doubt about. Then we talk about having a girls’ night with Lily, if we can get her away from Beau long enough, that is. Not that I blame her. I mean, once Graham is back home, I probably won’t let him out of my sight for days on end.
“Alright, then it’s settled. Two weekends from now, we get Lily and go grab drinks, even if we have to hogtie her,” Wren says, causing me to chuckle.
“Game on. I’m getting off now. Love your face,” I tell her.
“Love you and Logan. Text or call if you need me,” she responds. I agree then hang up the phone, doing what she suggested and texting Graham.
Me: Hey, thinking about you. Hoping everything is okay <3
I put my phone down right after so I don’t obsess over if he responds or not, getting out the ingredients to make shredded chicken tacos, one of our favorites, along with all the fixings. Maybe that will keep me busy for a while.
“Hey, Mommy, when is Mr. Graham getting here?” Logan asks while my head is in the fridge, grabbing what I need.
“I’m not sure. I texted him, but there’s a good chance it won’t be tonight. He did say we’re going to get ice cream when he’s off duty.” I wink at Logan.
“That stinks. I was hoping he’d help me build the new Lego set we picked up this week.”
“I know I’m not Graham, but I can help you,” I offer.
“No, that’s okay. I’ll wait.” He shrugs his shoulders before he leaves. I guess I’m chopped liver when it comes to Legos these days.
“Alright, dinner will be done in about an hour. Can you help me get the toppings ready?” I figure it’ll do us both good to occupy our time.
“Of course. I call dibs on shredding the lettuce.” Little stinker. He’s lucky he’s so cute, leaving me to cut up the tomatoes.
“How am I not surprised?” I raise my eyebrows then play like I’m about to go after him. Logan runs off laughing. A weight semi-lifts from my shoulders, for now at least.
Fourteen
Graham
“Son of a bitch,” I tell my newest hired Deputy, Joe Smith.
“Yeah, that’s gonna leave a mark.” The good news is we got the robber. The bad news is, bullets were sprayed everywhere, including towards me. Thankfully, I was wearing my Kevlar vest, which took the brunt of it.
“Faith is going to be pissed.” Shit, this standoff took entirely too long. As much as we tried, there was no talking him down. Add in the hostage situation, and shit went from bad to worse in no time.
“That she is. Won’t help any that you have to file a report and be cleared at the hospital.” Just when I thought the early evening was looking up, Joe had to darken its doorsteps.
“At this rate, I won’t be getting home until tomorrow morning sometime. Do me a favor and grab my phone out of the Tahoe.” I’m sitting in the back of an ambulance, waiting for the paramedic to make his way over here, my fault mostly with waving him off to take off my shirt and bulletproof vest.
“Will do.” I take off my shirt and am unlatching the Velcro on the vest’s side when Joe returns.
“Oh hell, you didn’t say how many bullets he popped off, but, Larson, that’s more than one, man.” He’s holding my phone out towards me. I look down, and sure enough, there are three bruises, one just above my heart and two in my stomach.