Page 47 of Unexpected Love

“When are you going to put them out of their misery?”

I huff out a laugh, glancing at her from the corner of my eye. “They’re miserable, are they?”

“Okay, maybe not miserable, but they definitely aren’t happy. I’d say they're sad, maybe a little disappointed in themselves.”

I nod my head. “I can understand that.”

“So?” she pushes when I don’t say anything else.

“I don’t know, Pickle. I hear what you’re saying, but it’s gonna take me a little bit to figure out where my head is at.”

“You’re still gonna come for Christmas, though, right?” she asks hopefully.

“I work this year, remember?” She nods her head but doesn’t say anything. “You know I’ll stop by at some point. I just don’t know when exactly.”

“Right,” she mumbles, fidgeting with the paper placemat in front of her on the counter.

I pull her into a hug. “Me not being there has nothing to do with this news. If I weren’t working, I would be there.” Especially this year.

This is one of the rare years in which all my siblings will be under one roof with both my parents. Most years, it was just me, Mom, Dad, and one of my siblings. I hate that I’ll be in town but working this year. When I was still serving overseas, it was easier to miss out on the big family events but to be this close—it sucks.

Before I can say anything else to try and make it up to her, my phone goes off with a text from the sheriff.

Lyle

I need you to head to the hospital. We need a witness statement from Tyler Harrison. Call me.

“Sorry, Pickle. I’ve gotta go. Duty calls.” I reach over, pulling her head to mine, and place a kiss to her temple. “I love you, and I’ll talk to you soon.” I grab a twenty from my wallet and toss itnext to my still-full plate before lifting my phone to my ear and heading to my cruiser.

Lyle doesn’t mince words and jumps right in when he answers the phone. “Sorry to interrupt your dinner. But I knew you’d want to be the one to take this statement.”

“What happened?” I ask as I walk down the sidewalk.

“He was brought to the hospital this evening by two of his teachers. He was beaten pretty badly. He hasn’t shared much, only told his teachers it was his mother.” The sheriff is quiet for a moment, likely gathering his thoughts. No matter how long you’re on the job, parts of it never get easier.

“The doctors think he was beaten with a bat.” His voice is low when he says it, but I hear the anger clear as day. And I understand it because I feel the rage coursing through me, too.

“Is he going to be okay?” I ask once I’m able to control my voice.

“They’re still checking him out, but he’ll survive.”

Survive.Because while he might be alive, he’s definitely not okay. How could he if his mother beat him with a bat?

“I’ve already got Reid out checking the places she frequents. Just get the statement and come back to the station.”

“Copy that.” We don’t waste time on goodbyes and hang up.

When I first decided to join the academy after being discharged, I seriously considered going to Baltimore or DC. After being in the service for so long, I thought the bigger cities were the only places I’d stay busy and feel like I was helping the most people. And while both of those cities meant I could easily visit Ashford Falls whenever I wanted, I ultimately decided I wanted to be as close to my family as I could—especially after being away from them for twelve years.

Ashford Falls might not have the major cases that Baltimore or DC does, but it wasn’t entirely a sleepy little town either. But this call is the first involving someone I thought I had beenkeeping a close eye on. Someone I knew could potentially be in a dangerous situation. And right now I feel like I’ve let them down majorly.

Night shifts are the worst,especially when you pick up a case like the one I did. Instead of working a twelve-hour shift and getting home at six in the morning, I end up working an eighteen-hour shift.

I should go straight upstairs, shower, and pass out, but if I do that, I’ll throw my entire week out of whack. At this point, it’s better for me to just push through and go to sleep later this evening.

I don’t think I could go to sleep right now if I tried. My mind is racing with thoughts of Tyler’s horrible situation. He’s just a kid, and seeing him in that hospital bed makes me furious a parent could do something like that. Even knowing we have his mother in custody, I can’t help but want more justice for him.

I fall back onto my couch, checking my phone for the first time since I walked out of The Diner last night. I’ve got a few missed calls from my parents, a chain of texts from my brothers in our group chat, and a couple of texts from Olivia. But the one that catches my eye is the text from Ava.

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