Page 13 of Beyond the Badge: Nox

When he worked the road, he wore his uniform.

He owned three suits. All in black. He only pulled them out of his closet for weddings, funerals and court appearances.

He owned no jewelry except his wedding ring. And that was a plain gold band.

He drove an older Chevy truck without all the bells and whistles, owned a Harleywithall the bells and whistles and second-hand furniture filled his apartment.

Currently, his bike was his most prized possession.

Before that, it was his wife.

He would give up everything he owned to have her back.

He would do anything to speak to her one more time.

He would sacrifice all his material possessions—past, current and future—for the chance to say one last goodbye.

But the harsh truth was…

Nothing he did would bring her back.

Nothing he did would give him even a few more minutes in her presence.

And nothing…Absolutelyfucking nothing would give him back the child they created together.

The one he never got to hold.

Or name.

Or see who she took after.

Their unborn, unnamed daughter now kept Jackie company in her grave.

At least his wife had that.

While Nox was alone.

The woman and child he lived for, gone in a single moment.

The overpaid therapist couldn’t bring them back.

This fucking group couldn’t bring them back.

And neither could the woman forcing them to sit in a goddamn circle like that was going to make everything fucking better.

It wasn’t.

Nothing would make any of it better.

Nothing would dull the fucking pain.

His fingers dug into his thighs, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

He was struggling to breathe.

Struggling to move on.

Everything was a goddamn struggle.

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