Home > Boots on the Ground (Birch Police Department #2)(6)

Boots on the Ground (Birch Police Department #2)(6)
Author: April Canavan

“What is it, Auntie? I didn’t mean to make you mad by calling Remy my dad.” The panic in his voice and the way he pulled away from me, or tried to, set everything into motion.

“You know, I think Remy and your mom would be perfectly fine with you calling him your dad. I think they’d like it, actually.” My voice caught, and I couldn’t keep the tears back any longer.

Pure, sweet love, that of a child, was something I’d wanted my entire life. A family. One I couldn’t wait to have for my own.

“He’s the only dad I have.” Nox yawned even more. “I love him.”

While Nox curled into my side even further, completely oblivious to the fact that he’d thrown my world into chaos, my mind wandered to another time. Another night, where I shared my hopes for the future.

“Come along, Nox.” I ruffled his hair. “It’s time to go to bed.”

Groggily, he got up and started to crawl out of the blanket fort with a series of grunts and complaints.

“You know what? I’ve changed my mind.” I looked down at the bright smile that appeared on his face. “Let me just turn on the light in the window, and we’ll sleep down here.”

“Why do you turn the light on?” Nox yawned and curled into the pillow and blankets that we’d been using. “We’re going to bed.”

“Because sometimes your uncle Linc comes by and sits outside. Watching out for me.” I rubbed the scars on my left wrist once more. “He’s worried about me, I think.”

Nox nodded into the pillow. “He’s got your six.” His eyes were closed, so he didn’t see the tears well up, nor did he see the watery smile that I gave him at his words.

Instead, I turned on the light in my window, like I did every night. I leaned against the door, resting my forehead against the solid wood. And just like every night, I silently wished that instead of being outside, Linc was with me, building a life.

But wishes were only granted in fairy tales, and my life had been nothing more than a nightmare wrapped in a daydream disguised as the apocalypse.

 

 

4

 

 

Linc

 

 

Poking my eye felt like the wrong thing to do, but it looked puffy, so I did it. Immediately, a shard of pain shot into my brain and down through my fingers.

“Fuck me,” I groaned.

I would never put a pair of roller skates on again, and Remy owed me big-time for involving me in his dumbass plan to help Cain out with training a derby team on banked track. What the hell did we know about banked track anymore? Apparently, not nearly enough, because not only did we get our asses handed to us by women, but one of them got me in the face with a skate and I looked like I’d gotten into a fight with a fuckin’ door. And lost, spectacularly.

Even three days later, I couldn’t get the bruise to fade. Hell, I was considering going to Emma and asking her to show me how to use makeup because I was sick and tired of being asked what happened to my face.

“Why are you staring at yourself?”

I knew I wasn’t in the bathroom at the courthouse alone; that was practically impossible. But I honestly hadn’t expected to see Royal fucking Prince.

The reflection I found staring back at me through the mirror showed my complete opposite. Where I had a dark-blue uniform on, buttoned all the way up to my chin, with a utility belt strapped to my side, a gun attached to my hip and the badge shining back at me from my chest, Royal did not. He had on a dark-gray suit, which probably cost more than my first car, and a tie that I wanted to rip off his neck and hang him with, along with an actual handkerchief in the pocket on his breast. I had blond hair; he had dark-brown hair. His eyes were almost the same color as his hair, while mine were blue.

Kennedy couldn’t have picked anyone more opposite of me, and the thought stung.

“Go away, Royal.” If I hadn’t sworn to Chief Townsend that I wouldn’t murder the man currently staring at me in the mirror like he was better than me, I’d beat the shit out of him.

When he didn’t immediately leave like I wanted him to, my fists clenched around the porcelain of the bathroom sink. I had to do something, anything, to keep from wrapping my hands around his goddamn neck.

It was bad enough that he had the woman I loved, when I couldn’t. But he’d hurt her somehow, made her afraid of him, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it because Kennedy hadn’t told a fuckin’ soul.

“I’m not going anywhere, Linc.” Royal crossed his arms and leaned against the bathroom wall, apparently oblivious to the fact that he was wearing a designer suit and the bathroom was less than clean. “You need to get used to it. You threw her away, and I was there to pick up the pieces.”

Biting my tongue while that jackass kept talking about Kennedy became my sole focus in life, and my hands gripped the side of the sink so hard I thought I’d either break it or shatter a bone in the process.

Royal took my silence as his cue to keep talking, just making everything worse. He goaded me, I knew it, but that didn’t stop the frustration or rage at his words.

“You broke her, Linc. You left and never came back. You don’t deserve her, and you know it. And when I convince her to end all this bullshit, she’ll end up with my ring on her finger, and then there won’t be anything you can do to interfere.”

Yep. That’s about the moment I snapped. At least, that’s what I planned on telling Kennedy’s father in the aftermath of what I had planned. The hard part would be cleaning up Royal’s blood from the grout on the floor.

Royal’s head snapped back and slammed into the tile on the wall when I shoved him back, my hand wrapped in the material of the ridiculously douchey tie he had on. The brief flash of fear was the only indication that Royal didn’t have his shit together. That, and the fact that I was holding him against the wall with his feet a few inches off the ground.

“I’m only going to say this once.” My voice was nothing more than a low, threatening whisper. “If I find out that you even breathe the same air as Kennedy Townsend again, I’m going to destroy you. It won’t be with a badge on my chest, or a gun on my hip, either.” I wouldn’t hide the menace in my voice, not when I was delivering a threat that would destroy my career, and we both knew it. “I’m not afraid of you, Royal. And I’m sure as fuck not afraid of losing my job. Not when it comes to Kennedy. I know you hurt her. I know you did something. And I’ll fucking die before I let you hurt her again. Remember that.”

The door slammed open behind me, but I didn’t let him go. Not when he opened his mouth, with a cocksure smile gracing his slimy face. And definitely not when I saw another lawyer, Benton Mays, step up to my side with a concerned look on his face. Not for Royal, but for me.

Royal tried, and failed, to pull himself from my grip.

“I’m not done yet.” I lowered my voice even further, ignoring the man at my side and focusing all of my attention on the one I still held against the wall.

“As amusing as this is,” Benton drawled. “We’re due in court, and I don’t think Judge Michaels is going to give a shit that he insulted you.”

Royal’s smile faltered slightly when Benton didn’t move to help him, and I practically snarled in delight.

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