Chapter 14 Where We Begin Again #2
He nodded and turned back to David. “I agree. But I want this in writing. Formal. Legal. With interest.”
David’s eyes had followed Colin’s, and noting Joshua’s expression, he smiled and reached to grip Colin’s arm.
“Deal. I’ll have my lawyer work up something, and you can look it over.
” He turned to Kingsley. “Graham? Just shoot me a figure. Whatever you need to get started. I’ll have it to you by end of business. ”
Kingsley nodded, then laid a hand on Colin’s shoulder and gestured toward the house. “Can I get you boys to walk over here? I have a couple of questions.”
They followed David and Kingsley to the corner of the house—to the charred remains of their dining room’s octagon window. Joshua looked away, wincing, and Colin wrapped an arm around him.
Noticing his pain, Kingsley smiled and patted his back.
“Don’t fret, son. An octagon window is as easy as pie.
We’ll slip ‘er in there in forty-five minutes when the time comes. But what I really want to ask you boys is…” He pointed along the side of the house.
“There’s a good six feet between here and your garage.
How would you feel about expanding this house?
Making this whole area wider”—he shot a glance at Joshua— “including your dining room and that fancy window that you love so much.”
“You could do that?”
“Oh, heavens, yes.” Again, he indicated the yard along the side of the house. “This is just wasted space, and most of this side of the house has to go anyway. Might as well replace it with something grand.”
“That would be wonderful,” Joshua breathed out, then turned to Colin. “Don’t you think?”
Colin let out a slow breath, eyes on the charred window frame. “That’s gotta come with a steep price tag.” He hissed out a frustrated breath. “I don’t like saying this, because it’s a fantastic idea and I want to do it. But we need to see some figures first.”
“No worries,” Kingsley told him. “We’ve a long way to go before that kind of thing even needs discussion. Our first job is to shore up the damage and make this house secure.”
“How long will that take?” Joshua asked.
“Well, as soon as Mr. Gardener-Reese here gets me the cash I need, and these fine gentlemen move on, my crew and I will get started. After that…,” he shrugged, “…couple of days to secure it.” He turned toward the house as if evaluating the task before him.
“Then we can assess the damage and give you boys something of a time frame.” He patted Joshua’s shoulder, then strode to the porch and walked in, sliding a N95 mask over his face.
“David, he’s amazing,” Joshua said. “Thank you!”
“He’s a special guy, all right,” David told them. “And you two should let him expand the house. Don’t worry about money right now. We can work all that out.”
“David, I won’t take advantage of you that way,” Colin insisted.
“You’re not!” He nudged Colin with an elbow. “Stop it, Colin. You know I’ve got the fucking money. What better place to put it?”
Colin scowled, then glanced at Joshua. “You want it, though, don’t you? The expansion? I saw your eyes light up when Kingsley mentioned it.”
Joshua touched his arm. “Baby, yes. I do. I think it would be glorious. It would mean that our living room, dining room, and kitchen would all be bigger, and so would your workout room!” He turned to David.
“Would he expand the upstairs too?” Joshua asked, tone eager, already imagining a home reborn instead of repaired.
David shrugged and tilted his head in the direction Kingsley had walked. “Ask him!”
“I will.”
Colin nodded as if in agreement, though a faint, sour twist tightened in his gut.
The idea of a larger house—more light, more space—should have filled him with excitement.
Instead, a quiet wrongness coiled low in his chest, like he was stealing something from the life they had lost. He kept his gaze forward, jaw locked, unwilling to burden anyone else with a feeling that made little sense. At least not yet.
“I’m going to go in. I want to talk to him about the timing of all this,” David said. He squeezed Colin’s shoulder and trailed the contractor into the house.
As David walked away, a car door slammed, and Colin turned toward the street, expecting to see yet another police cruiser.
Instead, he saw Esther Jackson and Norman Clayton.
Esther didn’t pause as she passed Colin and Joshua, heading straight for the blast zone.
She continued to walk until she reached the last remaining rectangle of yellow tape: the spot where Sarah Mitchell had laid down her life defending her charges.
For a long moment, Esther stood in silence, then bent and laid a single white rose on the ground.
Overcome, Colin bowed his head, shaking tears out of his eyes.
For a split second, he was back there—hearing her scream, tasting smoke, seeing her outstretched arm on the grass.
His knees wobbled. Just slightly. But enough that he shifted his weight without thinking.
He shook his head hard, but the image was still there.
Norman Clayton embraced him, reaching out as he did so to squeeze Joshua’s arm. “You OK, kid?”
“About average,” Joshua said with a weary smile.
Clayton leaned back, one hand coming to rest on Colin’s shoulder. “How about you, hotshot? You still standing?”
“Goddamn right,” Colin growled out.
“Knew you would be.”
“Good to see you, Obi-Wan.”
“Damn good to see you both.” He tilted his head toward Esther, who was walking toward them. “Boss lady’s on a holy fucking tear. I wouldn’t cross her with body armor and a priest.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah! God help anyone connected to Lexi Moreno. She’s even got the warden of Red Onion jumping when she barks.” He laughed softly and patted Colin’s shoulder.
Esther moved to where the men stood and embraced both Colin and Joshua. She paused for a moment, then tilted her head toward the house. “What’s the verdict?”
Joshua gave a soft laugh. “So to speak.”
Colin slid an arm around him. “The verdict so far is that the house can be saved—and maybe even improved. David found a contractor who’s sharp as hell and ready to start today if…
” He waved a hand toward the officers still scattered across the lawn.
“Can’t we move this along, Esther? Leave us in peace to start rebuilding our lives? ”
Esther nodded once. “I’ll clear this scene before nightfall.”
Colin exhaled slowly and leaned into Joshua. “OK,” he said quietly. “We’ll tell Kingsley he can start tomorrow.”
“That him?” Norm asked, nodding toward the house.
Colin turned to see David and Kingsley walking toward them. “God, I just hope he’s right,” Colin muttered.
“And that he’s as good as he seems to be,” Joshua added, propped against Colin’s solid frame.
Esther laid a hand on Colin’s arm, and he turned back to face her.
“City Council authorized paid administrative leave starting now. Minimum of three weeks, possibly longer, depending on how you’re doing.
Esther laid a hand on Colin’s arm. “It isn’t optional.
You were the target of a violent crime, and you lost a colleague.
That means mandatory leave until you get a clean bill of health.
There’s nothing on your desk that we can’t handle. ”
Colin bowed his head in silent acceptance, but Joshua moved to embrace her, his voice quivering. “Thank you, Esther.”
She kissed both their cheeks, then turned and moved toward their car. After three paces, she stopped and turned back to face them. “I’m also filing a claim on your behalf with the city. Reimbursements for damage to the house.” She shrugged. “Can’t hurt.”
Clayton embraced Colin, reaching to pat Joshua’s shoulder as he did. “Call me if you need anything.” He gripped Colin’s shoulders with both hands. “And I mean anything.”
Both men nodded and watched as Esther and Norm moved past the remaining officers to their car. Then Colin drew in a deep breath and turned back to face their home. “Are you ready for this, bud?”
“As ready as I’m apt to get.”
Colin nodded, and they moved, in step, toward their home.
Kingsley stood near what used to be the front door, clipboard in hand, one boot propped on the scorched threshold. He looked up as Joshua and Colin stepped cautiously across the cracked walkway, their expressions unreadable.
The air carried the stubborn scent of soaked ash and scorched wood, a damp, smoky heaviness that clung to everything like an ugly memory that refused to fade.
Kingsley gave a slight nod. “It’s stable enough to walk through. Watch your step in the dining room—there’s still some char along the floor joists.” He reached out and nudged Colin’s arm. In his hand were two N95 masks. “Mask up before you go in there.”
Colin didn’t speak. His eyes locked on the gaping blackened hole where the window used to be, and his jaw clenched.
His hand rose instinctively to the center of his chest, as if it still expected the familiar weight of a badge long gone.
He hadn’t wanted to come back inside. Not again.
Not until they’d painted over the soot and scrubbed the last trace of smoke from the air.
But Joshua was here. And there was no way in hell he’d let him walk through it alone. He shoved the fear down deep—the way he always had during a midnight call-out or a silent standoff in the dark—but this time, it didn’t sink. It lodged there, hard and immovable. A stone in his chest.
Joshua swallowed hard, forcing back the lump… the tears. “We’ll be careful,” he muttered, his voice tight, blunted by the mask.
They stepped inside. Kingsley followed, silent while they took it in. Every sound was muffled as if the walls weren’t sure whether to echo or absorb their pain.
Finally, he spoke. “I’ve worked jobs like this before. Not this kind of incident,” he added quickly, “but this kind of damage. Fire and explosion. Smoke infiltration. Shrapnel in drywall. I can get it fixed.”
Joshua turned toward him. “Back to what it was?”
Kingsley met his eyes. “If that’s what you want. I can get the plans. Insurance will cover a rebuild to spec. Same footprint. Same finishes.”
He paused, then took a slow breath. “But listen. If you want to change anything—if there’s a room that never quite worked for you, or if you’ve been dreaming about more windows along the riverside, or a space that feels safer, more yours—now’s the time to do it.”
Over the mask, Colin’s brow furrowed. “Insurance won’t touch that.”
“No,” Kingsley said. “They’ll cover the replacement.
The rest would be out-of-pocket. But you wouldn’t be starting from scratch.
Think of it as reshaping grief and pain into something that holds light again.
Not what it was—but stronger. Something that remembers what happened here… and transforms it into grace.”
Joshua drew in a quick breath and looked away. Kingsley caught it, but didn’t press.
“I’ve seen people heal faster when their home becomes something different. Something that’s changed,” He hesitated, then added, “the same way they have.”
He looked down at his clipboard, then back up at them. “You don’t have to decide today. But I’ll be making a list. I’ll separate the repairs from any changes you might want. You can say no to everything. Or not.”
Joshua’s mouth parted slightly. He nodded, slow and quiet, too overwhelmed to take it all in, his emotions a roar in his ears.
Kingsley looked at him for a moment, eyes soft with understanding, then patted his arm and stepped back into the wreckage, measuring tape clicking softly as he worked.
Colin turned to face Joshua, who was still staring at their ruined dining room. His chocolate brown eyes were stricken, wounded, tears streaming down his cheeks. Colin pulled him into his arms, wincing as the bandages bit into his skin. “We can do this, Josh!” he rasped. “We can do this!”
He clung to Joshua, forcing strength into every syllable.
We can do this.
But, beneath the words, like a fault line under shifting ground, lay a terrifying truth: he was holding everything together on counterfeit courage and strength so frail that one hard push would break him in two.
He pressed a kiss into Joshua’s hair, voice steady, almost fierce.
But inside, a quiet, crawling fear gathered.