Page 6 of Unexpected Love

“You could never crash something in this house. We would love to have you and your brother with us.”

I squeeze his hand one more time before releasing it and turning to Quinn. She’s gorgeous. I understand why my brother is so twisted up about her. Her brown hair is down in waves, falling to her shoulders, and her eyes are so blue I’m struck by their brightness. I’m only five-foot-four so most people are taller than me, but she seems taller than normal. She’s fit but curvy and giving off a very nervous energy that I can only imagine is due to the circumstances.

I never doubted my decision to come here to help, but knowing how everyone in this room feels about Quinn and seeing in this brief moment how concerned she is, I’m even more sure I made the right decision.

“Hi, I’m Ava, Declan’s younger and much more outgoing sister.”

Quinn chuckles slightly, making her way over to me. “Nice to meet you, I’m Quinn.” Quinn puts her hand out for a handshake, but I quickly push it away, pulling her into a hug.

“Oh no, I feel like I’ve known you forever with how much this group talks about you. I’m hugging you.”

Quinn is tense for a moment before she returns my hug, but when she does, I feel her entire body relax into me.

“I promise that we'll figure all of this out. I won’t stop until we know Max is safe,” I whisper in her ear before pulling away. Quinn offers me a small nod before we both turn back to the group. “So, what’s for breakfast? And can I help with anything?”

three

GAGE

I rollover and check the time on my phone—5:55 a.m. It’s not a surprise. It’s been years since I actually slept until my alarm goes off. I’m sure it has something to do with my days in the army and never really relaxing, even in sleep.

Being in the army is nothing like they show in movies or TV, but it’s still an intense experience. And being prepared for anything is definitely a reality of any branch of the military.

I lie there in the dark, giving myself a few minutes to justbe. Life is hectic and unexpected as it is. Most days I never have time to be still and exist in the moment. Giving myself these five minutes might be all I get for the day.

Monday mornings have always been my favorite. I’m not entirely sure why, but there’s something about a new week and starting fresh—almost like the start of a new year—endless possibilities.

I would’ve thought, as I got older, that outlook on Mondays would change, especially after becoming a police officer. The shifts that come along with being a deputy, even in a smalltown like Ashford Falls, mean my weeks don’t always start on Mondays. But I still love them, always excited to see where they might take me.

The alarm sounds, and I shut it off as I sit up in bed, throwing my legs over the side and stretching. The cracks along my spine are audible in the silence of the room. I give myself a moment, absorbing the sting of pain in my lower back. It’s always at its worst first thing in the morning. Once I get up and start moving around, it’ll become a dull ache that’s second nature and easy to ignore.

Striding to the dresser, the chill in the air causes goosebumps across my skin, and the picture frame on top catches my eye. I don’t know why I put it there—every time I see it I’m reminded of how my life isn’t what I thought it would be.

Today marks three years since I was honorably discharged from the army. While I still talk to the guys from my unit, it’s not the same. There’s a sullenness that comes over me as I stare at the picture—a pit in my stomach, a feeling that comes with being around the same group of people day in and day out, trusting they have your back the same way you have theirs, and then all of a sudden you rarely see them.

I don’t blame any of them for how we’ve grown apart. Even if I stayed with the army I wouldn’t have been serving with them anymore. My options were to sit behind a desk or be discharged, and I couldn’t sit behind a desk for the rest of my career. Not when I knew I still had some good years left in me. Sitting behind a desk would have killed me slowly.

I grab a pair of shorts and a shirt from the drawers and turn away, moving to the bathroom to start my day.

I’ve had the same Monday morning routine since I became a deputy, and a run through town with a pit stop at my mom’s before heading to work sounds like exactly what I need.

Ten minutes later, I step outside and stretch, taking in my surroundings. Ashford Falls is slowly waking up for the day. It’s still early, no one is out in the neighborhood quite yet, but I see the lights starting to flicker on in windows.

I turn left out of my front yard and begin a slow jog, warming myself up. I’ll slowly make my way toward town before veering off to the farmland on the outskirts. To the farm I grew up on and where my mother and sister still live.

Ashford Falls is the definition of a small town. Right in the center is a gazebo where all major town celebrations start and end. Surrounding the gazebo is a large park where the town sets up for our quirky festivals. Around the park are all the shops and restaurants. A little further out from the shops and restaurants are a few different neighborhoods, and just past them is all the farmland surrounding our little town.

Despite being on the outskirts of the town, the run to my mother’s house is only about five miles—something I can run in just over half an hour.

As I jog down the road to my mom’s, my little sister steps out onto the front porch, coffee mug in hand, eyes searching for me, exactly as she does every week.

My family tree has some complicated roots. My parents had me when they were young, and while they tried to make it work, they realized they weren’t meant for each other. In hindsight, I’m forever grateful my parents realized it when they did. Yeah, I was ten when they divorced, and I didn’t understand any of it at the time, but they never spoke ill of each other in front of me, and they always made sure I knew they were both around if I needed them for anything. Even when they got remarried—or, in my father’s case, both times he got remarried—and had other kids with their partners, I was always a priority to them.

I love all three of my younger siblings and feel lucky to have a close relationship with each of them. I enlisted in the army whenthey were all still so young. Asher was five, Leo was about to turn two, and Liv had only turned one a few months before I left for basic training. And while I visited and called when I could over the twelve years I served, I still missed out on a lot of moments in their lives.

When I get closer to the house, I can’t help but smile when I see the scowl on Olivia’s face. “What’s with the face, Pickle?”

Olivia and I don’t look much like siblings—understandably so. She’s my half-sister, and I look more like my father than our mother, but if you look closely, you can see the resemblance. Her eyes are where you can tell we’re related. She and I have the same striking aqua-blue eyes as our mother.

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