Coming Home For Her

“Yo!” I drop my head back, looking up at the ceiling at the sound of Hawk’s voice. I’m going to need to set some damn boundaries with everyone if Carey is going to be staying here.

“I don’t need a well check.” I bite my tongue right before I call him an asshole.

“Hawk.” Mom goes over, giving him a hug and ignoring my frustration. “Crew texted me last night that you two will be making it to the wedding.”

“Wouldn't miss it.” When my mom turns back around, he gives me a look that lets me know he's got something he needs to tell me.

“What is it? Spit it out and then you’ve got to go.”

“Don’t be rude.” Mom glares at me.

“Fine. I won’t tell you that I saw a girl slipping out the window of your bedroom.” He smirks at his revelation, thinking I’m trying to hide it from my mom. I don’t respond because I’m too busy bolting back to my bedroom. Where I find my bed empty.

“She ran,” Mom giggles from behind me. She did.

“I was starting to think you played for my team,” Hawk chimes in, trying to bust my balls. No more damage could be done to them at this point. I don’t respond to either of them, going to my closet and getting dressed.

If my dream girl wants to run then I’ll chase. She has no idea who she’s up against. I didn't become a squad leader of a Navy SEAL Special Operations Unit for no reason. She can run all she wants, but I'll catch her every time.

8

Carey

I sit in the back of the Lyft wanting to get home already. My mind is still trying to play catch up about what was real and what wasn’t last night. I didn't drink that much, did I? Everything I remembered had to have happened. I don’t drink often; it isn't my scene. In college I was in an accelerated program, and there wasn’t a lot of time to have any sort of social life.

I had to climb a freaking gate to get out of Beau’s place. I’m still shocked I woke up in his bed. I have to admit it was one of the best nights of sleep I ever had. So many times I dreamt of lying in his arms. Last night felt surreal. But all of that went out the window when I heard feminine laughter coming from somewhere inside his house. With him out of the bed, my instincts kicked in, and I all but bolted out of there.

My phone vibrates in my hand. I turn it over, thinking it might be Beau. I already had a few texts from Angel that I saw earlier but didn't have time to check yet. Julia’s name comes across my screen.

Julia: Meet me at New Beginnings?

Me: Yes, be there in ten.

I text her back instantly. Julia is not good at asking for help. If she is reaching out, then it must be bad. How can this keep getting worse? We were finally able to get her a restraining order last week. But what good did that really do? She can’t throw it at him. The order may have kicked him out of their home, but that didn’t mean he’d abide by it. I’ve been begging her to come stay at the shelter. There are always guards and people on duty to watch over everyone. She would be safe there, and I would have some peace knowing she was okay.

“Change of plans,” I tell the driver, giving him the address to New Beginnings. Shit. I was supposed to help out at the shelter in a couple hours. My plan was to go home to shower and change. My outfit is not fit for working at the shelter, but I’m sure I have a pair of scrubs or something that I can change into when I get there.

The car barely comes to a stop and I’m getting out. I tip the driver and leave a review before ending the ride on my app. I push into the shelter, giving a few hellos as I go.

“Julia here?” I ask Nora, who is sitting behind the front desk. James the security guard gives me a chin nod looking upset about something.

“No, but you should go talk to Heather. She’s in her office.”

“Okay, but let me know when Julia gets here.”

“Got it,” she says. “You look good.” She shoots me a wink.

“Thanks.” I head into the back area, quickly changing out of my clothes. I find a pair of sneakers to wear, thank God. I stop short when I get to Heather’s office and two police officers step out. Their presence usually doesn’t come with good news. Worry starts to settle in my stomach that something bad has happened.

“Carey Beckett?” one of them says, surprising me that they know my name. I don’t have my badge on. It’s at home. I volunteer here a lot as a nurse so most people know me, but I’ve never seen these cops before.