Chapter 15 #3
He bent to her, lowering his voice. “I’m sorry, Hannah,” he said.
“That shouldn’t have happened in front of you.
” His jaw tightened briefly. “They’re not going to hurt him,” he said.
“They just need to talk to him and figure out what’s going on.
Then they’ll let him go.” He lowered his head, letting out a slow breath.
“Right now, my job is to make sure you’re safe. And you are.”
Joshua moved to Hannah’s side and bent to her level. “And if you ever want to talk about any of this,” he said gently, “you can call Ms. Patricia or come by the library for one of her sessions. She’ll always make time for you.”
Joshua rose, giving Maren’s arm a brief, steady touch. “That goes for both of you. Patricia is a licensed counselor—she spent ten years as a school counselor before taking the librarian job. She can help you make sense of all this.”
Maren’s hand tightened once on her daughter’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
Once their supplies were packed and ready, Joshua moved to Patricia’s side.
“Thank you,” he said. “For trusting us with today.”
Patricia smiled, tired but steady. “It wasn’t an easy day,” she said. “But we’ll take it from here.” She squeezed Joshua’s arm and indicated the playbook under her arm. “You showed us the way. And Nate was amazing. I plan to continue the journaling class.”
“He’ll be in high heaven.”
“He showed me that it can work. I’m grateful.”
Joshua walked with Patricia as she locked up the building, and together they stepped out into the cooling evening, the town settling into itself around them.
Dinner was unremarkable in the best way. A booth, coffee refilled without asking. They talked about ordinary things at first—the drive tomorrow, the weather, and whether the fries were actually better than expected. Eventually, the silence between topics stretched, no longer needing to be filled.
“That could have gone very differently,” Nate said finally.
“But it didn’t,” David replied.
“We stood together,” Trent noted. “We protected the kids.”
Colin nodded but stared down at his dinner in silence. Even surrounded by friends, the moment in the library still pressed against his ribs, threatening to take his breath.
Joshua leaned against his arm. He heard everything Colin wasn’t saying—and felt a flicker of fear that didn’t reach his face. Not fear of what had happened. Fear of how quickly it had all come back to him.
The hallway lights buzzed softly as they approached their room, the day’s strain clinging to both of them. Inside, Joshua set his bag down and sat on the bed, exhaling slowly, as if the quiet finally allowed his body to feel everything at once.
Colin closed the door behind them and leaned back against it, eyes closed for a beat too long. When he crossed the room and sat beside Joshua, the bed dipped under the heaviness he carried.
“You okay?” Joshua asked gently.
Colin rubbed a hand over his face. “I… don’t know.”
Joshua’s hand found his, warm and steady. “I kept an eye on you today.”
Colin huffed out a breath—not amusement or annoyance, but something closer to tired acknowledgment. “I know.”
“And you didn’t push past your limits.”
Colin shook his head and pressed a soft kiss to Joshua’s temple. “You keep me on solid ground.”
“You do the same for me,” Joshua insisted. He turned slightly, studying him. “Colin… what happened in there is still haunting you. I can see it.”
Colin’s jaw tightened. He stared down at their joined hands for a long moment before speaking.
“It escalated fast,” he said quietly. “Faster than I expected.”
Joshua didn’t interrupt.
Colin exhaled slowly. “I wasn’t angry,” he went on. “Not like that. But everything sharpened all at once. Every movement. Every sound. It’s like my whole body just… locked in.”
His fingers flexed once against Joshua’s.
“I handled it,” he added, almost as if he needed to say it out loud.
“You did,” Joshua said gently.
Colin nodded, but his gaze stayed lowered. “That’s the part that gets to me,” he admitted. “How quickly it happens. One second I’m standing there, the next I’m already moving. Already calculating.” His mouth tightened slightly. “There’s no space in between.”
Joshua’s thumb brushed lightly over his hand. “You still think like a cop. That kept everyone safe today.”
Colin let out a quiet breath. “Yeah.” A pause. “But I felt it. The edge of it.” He finally looked up. “Not losing control… but how close everything sits to it.”
Joshua held his gaze, steady and unflinching. “You didn’t cross that line.”
“No,” Colin said. “I didn’t.” He swallowed. “But I know how fast it could go there. Learned that when I wore a badge. And in my line of work, even a second of bad judgment…” He shook his head. “That’s all it takes.”
Joshua shifted closer, his hand rising to cup Colin’s cheek, grounding him. “But that’s not what happened,” he said softly. “You stayed present. You stayed in control. Even with everything coming at you.”
Colin leaned into the touch for a moment, eyes closing briefly. “It doesn’t feel like enough sometimes,” he admitted. “Feels like I should have it handled without even feeling it.”
Joshua’s expression softened. “That’s not how it works,” he said quietly. “You don’t get to be human and untouched at the same time.” His thumb brushed along Colin’s cheek. “You felt it—and you still made the right choices. That’s what matters.”
Colin let out a slow breath, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “Danny would have something to say about that.”
Joshua huffed softly. “Oh, I’m sure he would.”
Colin’s mouth curved faintly. “Even three thousand miles away, he’s still in my head.”
“Good,” Joshua said. “Sounds like you’ve got backup.”
That drew a small, real smile from Colin.
They sat there for a long moment, leaning into each other, the silence settling around them like something earned.
“Get undressed and come to bed,” Joshua murmured. “Just breathe with me for a while.”
Colin nodded.
They moved slowly, shedding the weight of the day piece by piece, until they settled beneath the covers together. Joshua’s hand found its place on Colin’s back, moving in a slow, steady rhythm—grounding, reassuring, familiar.
Colin’s breathing gradually evened out, the tight edge of the day loosening with each quiet moment.
Eventually, sleep pulled him under.
But Joshua stayed awake a little longer—not because he feared what might have happened, but because he understood exactly what the day had taken out of the man he loved.
And some nights, watching over that vulnerability didn’t signal worry.
Sometimes… it signaled devotion.