Chapter Nineteen
Jackson
Brooklyn passes out almost immediately. As for me, I’m not quite as lucky as I lie in bed, listening to the sound of her quiet breathing, relishing in how right it feels having her in my arms, in my bed.
The sun broke the horizon a few minutes ago, and I know that I need to get up and start getting ready for the day. It’s going to be another long one, and the sooner I get started, the sooner I’ll be able to get back home and have her back in my arms again.
The problem is that I find myself reluctant to go, not ready to leave her side just yet.
A part of me is afraid that if I go, she’ll be gone when I come back, and I’m not ready to deal with that, or the way I’ll react if that is the case.
Maybe it’s an irrational fear; she already said that she would stay, but I can’t shake the feeling that the first chance she gets, the first time that fear creeps in or her inner demons rear their ugly heads, she’s going to take off, and I’m going to lose her forever.
This is the first time that I’ve allowed myself to get close to anyone or feel anything since Raleigh and it’s fucking terrifying but yet I’m not willing to let fear hold me back, I’ve done that shit for far too long and I’m done being that guy who runs when he’s scared or shit gets hard.
It’s time to man up or shut up, and I’m going to fucking man up.
This beautiful woman who is very quickly working her way into the shriveled up thing that was once my heart and is just maybe, slowly starting to bring life back to the long since desiccated organ and if I’m being honest, I hope that she picks me and that I can be the man that she needs, because she fucking deserves to *finally* have someone put her first.
After procrastinating for entirely way too long, I slide from the bed as gently as I possibly can, hoping that I don’t disturb her, hating the thought of waking her up.
After showering and getting completely ready, I go to brew her a pot of coffee, wanting it to be ready for her when she wakes up, but then stop when I remember that pregnant women aren’t supposed to have caffeine.
I raid my overhead cabinet, positive that I have to have a box of decaf coffee buried in there somewhere, but when I come up empty-handed, I come up with plan B, and hope that it too doesn’t backfire on me.
I scrawl out a note for her to find when she wakes up, knowing that I could send her a text but liking the personal touch of this so much more.
Teepee the piece of paper, I stand it on my pillow, then lean over, grazing my lips over her temple in a barely there kiss before rushing out the door.
As soon as I get to the station, I’m greeted by Jodi, the desk Sergeant, “Hey, Jones, burning both ends of the candle these days aren’t ya there, kid?” She asks with motherly affection.
“All a part of the job, Jodi. You know this.” Jodi has been the desk sergeant for years now. After working her way up from a rookie beat cop, she proved herself and quickly became one of the best on the force.
“I know, but I worry about you,” she says, her voice full of sincerity. “You work too much and don’t have a reason to make it back home at the end of the day, unlike the rest of us.”
“I think that may be changing,” I tell her, a smile pulling at my lips as the sight of Brooklyn in my bed just before I’d left flashes through my mind.
“There we go,” she says with a nod and a broad smile of her own, pointing at me. She continues, “I like that look. I don’t know who she is, but if she keeps putting *that* look on your face right there, you'd better find a way to keep her.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do,” I say with a shrug and a nod as 8 back toward the steps leading upstairs and to the rest of my team.
As soon as I make it to the top, everyone is at their desks, busy.
“What do we have?” I ask, curious as to what has everyone so busy so early in the morning.
“We got a lead,” Nash says, not looking up from his monitor.
“We’re running it before chasing it down. Making sure it’s good.” Amriel says, finishing for him.
“What is it?” I ask as I walk over behind Amriel, inspecting her screen.
She’s got a topographical map pulled up, and it looks like she’s zeroing in on a familiar building that resides on the west side of town.
“That’s an old abandoned factory,” I say as a building that I haven’t set sights on in over four years appears before me on the screen.
“Where did this tip come from?” I ask, my mind reeling as memories of searching the place high and low with both my family and the Stewart siblings as we looked for Raleigh when she’d been taken by Brady Stevens, the youngest of the Stevens’ children.
Thank Christ she’d been recovered by the fire and rescue crew before the palace that she’d been held captive in went up in flames in the middle of the night, too far gone for the fire crews to save by the time they’d arrived.
Had Raleigh not called her brother and given him her location and details about what she could see out the window of the bathroom that she was in, as she told him her final goodbyes, she too likely would have gone up with the house.
Only one body had been recovered, which had been later identified as 58-year-old Julia Jiminez, who had been a long-time employee of the Stevens’ family.
The body of Brady was never recovered, and while it is suspected that he is still out there, moving about in the shadows and under the cover of darkness, he is still considered to be a missing and dangerous person. It is recommended that if spotted, keep your distance and immediately call the authorities.
“It was called in to the tip line by an anonymous male caller,” Morris says, giving me a knowing look.
*Fuck.*
Stepping up beside me, Morris leans into me and, in a hushed voice, he asks, “Have you heard anything from your brother or his wife, or have they said anything about any kind of unusual activity happening around them recently?”
My pulse picks up speed as I look at him and shake my head *No,* thinking that they probably wouldn’t tell me even if they did. “I’ll go and call them right now.”
I make my way back down the stairs, pulling up yet another long-since-used number, and press the call button as soon as I step foot outside of the building.
The call is picked up after three rings, the voice on the other end simultaneously filling a void and making my regret increase tenfold, as they say, “Hello, Jax?”
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
