Where We Began (Stone Lake 2.5)

“Not Catholic, Junie. I don’t really buy into the whole penance thing. I figure a man does wrong, that wrong is a black mark on him. Nothing he does will clean it off.”

I think about that and kind of smile, even though that’s still painful. Still, the swelling is gone, and I feel human again, if not a sad, haunted version of a human—but, whatever.

“That’s very profound, Sheriff.”

“That’s me, profound as hell,” he jokes, his lips rising a little on one side in a half-assed, lazy smile that I like for some reason.

“Good to know you’re not just a pretty face,” I tease him, leaning back on my pillow. I’ve got a headache at the back of my eyes and it just seems to be getting worse, despite the medication the doctor gave me.

“You think I have a pretty face, Junie?” he asks. My eyes open and my gaze goes to him instantly.

“I’ve seen worse,” I respond. We both know he’s hot. I don’t need to reinforce that. The man’s wearing his uniform today. It’s a beige color and the shirt has to stretch over his muscles. He’s got his holster and gun secured on his hip. His dark hair is closely shorn and when he raises his hand, the back of his palm is covered in dark ink that moves past his wrist and disappears under his sleeve. I can’t remember seeing that on any cop I’ve met before, and it’s a damn shame, because even though I pretty much have sworn off men going forward, I find it very sexy.

He chuckles a little at my reply.

“You’re good for a man’s ego, Junie. Keeps him honest.”

“Glad I could help,” I mumble, my eyes closing again.

“Are you okay?” He asks, concern laced in the words.

“Headache, but I’ll be okay.”

“I can call the doctor—”

“There’s no need. They gave me something for it. It’ll be fine once I get home and sleep it off,” I tell him, forcing my eyes to open, even if the light hurts.

“What time are they releasing you?”

“I’ve already been released. Just waiting for my brother to pick me up. He should have been here, he must be running late.”

“Actually, that’s why I’m here. Lodge—err…your brother, had to fly out to Quantico for depositions today, and Luna and Joshua went with him for moral support. When he found out they were releasing you earlier than they thought… I’m afraid I’m your ride. Probably last choice, but…”

“Why did Gavin have to do depositions? Is my brother in trouble?” I ask, my heartrate intensifying because I couldn’t handle it if Gavin got in trouble over this. He has been through so much and he’s finally happy. He deserves that happiness. Luna does too and so does Joshua…

Especially Joshua.

Kids should be made to feel protected and loved, not an afterthought that’s in the way. Memories of my mother float through my mind, but I ignore them, employing that handy-dandy compartmentalization skill again.

“Nah, the bureaucrats just want to cover their asses since they had a murderer on their payroll.”

“I know that having Agent Dern be a traitor has torn my brother up,” I murmur, hating that Gavin had to face that.

“He wasn’t an agent. As far as I’m concerned, he’s worse than Atticus. At least Atticus was psychotic, but Dern was sworn to protect the innocent and to uphold the law. He’s scum, pure scum.” There’s so much emotion in his words that it hurts to hear it… maybe because I know that pain.

“Gavin told me about the man you lost. I’m sorry, Sheriff.”

“You can call me Ben you know,” he says after a moment of silence and studying my face.

“I like Sheriff. It suits you.”

“Howie was a good man. He deserved a full life with his family. He doesn’t get that. That’s on me.”

“No it’s not. It’s on the men who did all of this.”

“And me. I should have watched out for him better, planned for the unexpected.”

“You did that as best you could, Sheriff. You’re not God.”

He goes quiet for a moment and changes the subject. “Are you okay with me taking you home, Junie? I know we don’t know each other that well, but I can call Julie to go with us if you want.”

“Julie? Is she your girlfriend?”

“Hell no. Julie’s old man would kill me if I ever got that thought in my head. She’s a deputy. Officer Crane. You met her at… when you…”

“I remember her,” I tell him, when he keeps stuttering over his words. He’s trying to walk on eggshells with me. It’s not completely necessary, but it’s nice. The fact he’s willing to get a female cop to ride along with us is nice too. “It’s not necessary. I’m not afraid of you, Sheriff.”

“Good. You don’t need to be. I wouldn’t hurt you.” I smile at his words wondering why I want to believe him as badly as I do.