In the Line of Duty (First Responders 2)

Her eyes were wide and shimmering with tears, break-your-heart blue and broken. “She died, Jake.”

The words came out so tragically he half-expected her to crumple in a heap. She didn’t though. She sat tall on her chair, and her fingers gripped the edge of the countertop like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

“Who died?” he asked gently.

Kendra shook her head, releasing more hair from her braid. It really was quite an unruly mess now. “A student from the university hydroplaned on the highway. She was maybe twenty years old. She died before we even had a chance to try to save her. And I had to phone her parents halfway across the country.” She looked away. “There is no good way to deliver that sort of news.” A tear slipped over her cheek. “She was beautiful, Jake. Young and beautiful and full of potential. What a waste. What a stupid waste.”

Jake put the glass in the sink, the bottle back in the cupboard where it belonged, and went around the counter. “Come here,” he said gently, and vest, equipment, gun and all, he folded her into his arms.

Her face crumpled and she pressed her cheek to his chest, right at the curve of his shoulder. She trembled against him as the sobs started. But he stood strong and held her, tightening his arms and resting his chin on the top of her head.

Sometimes you couldn’t save everyone. And it could eat you up from the inside out.

She clung to him as the tears she’d been holding in came rushing out, wetting his shirt front. She cried for the girl in the car, for the devastated parents, for the loss of an innocent, young life, and even for herself. She hated feeling helpless, powerless. She’d become a cop for that very reason. But tonight she’d been cruelly reminded that she was indeed helpless and powerless. That bad things happened to good people who were just driving home from work. No one had been talking on a phone or driving under the influence or speeding. All they were guilty of was getting caught in a thundershower and hydroplaning on the highway.

It was humbling to realize that ten minutes of bad weather could cause that much death and destruction.

Weak and weary, she pushed out of Jake’s arms. “I think I need to sit down,” she murmured. He held her hand as they went to

the sofa, an unexpected point of connection that felt good, comfortable. She looked up at him sheepishly. “I went off the rails there, didn’t I?”

“A bit. Sounds like you’ve had a trying night though. Sometimes it helps to get it out.”

“I threw up in the ditch.”

The confession made him smile, and that fed the tiniest bit of warmth into her heart.

“I’m sorry for before. For yelling at you. For demanding…well, you know.”

He squeezed her fingers. “Demanding a drink? Yeah, well, it was pretty obvious something was very wrong. I couldn’t do it. Not knowing what I do, you know?”

She shivered, afraid of what she’d done, disturbed by the realization that she’d totally lost perspective. Afraid of why she’d done it—because she’d felt like she needed it to get through another hour. “Do you think I could be addicted like my mom? That…if I’d started I wouldn’t have stopped?”

His gentle smile faded as he looked her fully in the face. “I don’t know a lot about addiction. But I do know that you reached your limit tonight. That something about that girl tipped the balance for you. Extreme things drive people to extreme actions. Doesn’t mean you’re somehow predisposed to be an alcoholic, Kendra.”

She wasn’t convinced. “Doesn’t mean I’m not, either.” It would be the worst thing for her, and she was lucky it had been Jake on the bar tonight. Lucky he’d stopped her from self-destructing. A lot of bartenders wouldn’t have. “If I’d gone through with it, I could have lost my career. Everything.”

“I told you once before that I know when to stop serving.” He smiled again and leaned back against the cushions. It looked so inviting that she sank into them too, resting her head against the soft top of the sofa, curling one leg underneath her.

“Maybe,” he suggested, “what you went looking for wasn’t a drink after all. Maybe it was me.”

That idea was nearly as dangerous as the other as far as she was concerned. She wasn’t looking for a romantic connection. Wasn’t interested in dating. She didn’t want anything serious, and the day on the beach had shown her she didn’t really want a fling either. Besides, Jake wasn’t the serious type. He’d been around the block a time or two. And she was unbelievably green when it came to intimacy—emotional or sexual. It would be a bad idea all around, wouldn’t it?

“That’s quite a leap,” she answered, trying to sound glib. She wasn’t sure she succeeded. Especially when Jake answered.

“I’m not so sure it is,” he replied, “but I don’t think you’re in the frame of mind to discuss it now.”

Silence filled the room. She probably should go, but her emotions were still churning, and she didn’t quite trust herself to go home alone and not fall apart. She’d responded to a lot of calls over the past few years, but none of them had been a fatality. “It is a terrible thing,” she whispered, “to watch the life go out of someone. To see them take their last breath. I wasn’t prepared.” Her throat began to close up again, and the last words sounded strangely thick.

“No one is ever prepared for that.” Jake put his hand on her knee. “First time?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. Her eyes stung again and she blinked furiously. She really didn’t want to cry again.

“Do you have to go back? Or are you off duty now?”

“I’m done.”

“Good. Come here.”