37. Sutton
Sutton
C onstitutional law allowed for my actions in protecting the citizens of Pippen Creek, and I’d been trained to use lethal force in certain scenarios.
But I’d never expected to be faced with such a situation and have my instincts dictate the steps I’d taken. Kurt had shot one man and seemed intent on another—could have been Jimmy or me—but I had stopped him before finding out.
I hated having caused heartache to the handful of people who would mourn the loss of Kurt, but I would make the same decision over and over again—even if Jimmy hadn’t been huddled on the floor or in close proximity.
If Kurt and I had been the only two left in the shop, I would have ended the threat to my own life and the town’s safety without second-guessing myself.
The sheriff arrived to avoid a conflict of interest in overseeing the investigation of Kurt’s death that was required by law. As feared, a suicide note had been tucked in Kurt’s back pocket.
Sarah had been manipulated into staying with her husband rather than leave town with Kurt to seek out happiness together. His intention had been to kill Stefen, assured that Chief Sutton would do what needed doing.
He didn’t apologize.
Simply said he couldn’t live without his love.
Either his aim had been shit or he’d chosen at the last second not to end Stefen’s life.
We would never know.
Kurt had made his choice of violence, and he had paid the price.
Dexter had informed me Darla was nowhere to be seen and kept me updated on Jimmy via text so I was able to focus on my job and comply with the law in the hours that followed what would be the talk of the town for years to come.
I expected, along with the sheriff, for the event to be a justifiable homicide, that Kurt’s death would be certified as suicide due to the note he’d written. That meant I was free to go home for the night, but shit was far from over.
Mary arrived at the station around sundown, and although tears lined her face, she hugged me tight. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry, Mary,” I managed to say through the thickness in my throat.
She stepped back, holding onto my forearm with a stern grip. “Don’t you dare, Sutton Forrester.” Her voice broke, and another tear slid down her cheek. “Never apologize for doing your duty to protect the people of our town.”
I swallowed hard and nodded.
“What you did was warranted—I trust you implicitly, Chief. And I heard rumors about a note?”
Lips pressed tight, I nodded again.
She released a shaky exhale. “I’m so thankful Stefen is going to be okay. I couldn’t bear the thought of having raised a man who would take another’s life.”
He’d been in love. Obsessed with Sarah.
I understood his feelings, couldn’t begin to imagine how I would react if Jimmy left me for someone who’d hurt him time and again—manipulated him into choosing evil over happiness.
I’d yet to fully grasp the fact I’d killed a man. He was gone. I’d seen his body bagged up and wheeled out to the coroner’s van.
But my emotions were bottled.
“Does DJ know?” I asked what I’d been thinking on most.
“He does, and while it’ll be some time before all of this make sense to him, he wanted me to tell you that you’re still his hero. His dream of becoming a cop so he can care for people like you do hasn’t changed.”
My eyes stung, and I managed a nod.
Mary hugged me again, and tears slid down both of our cheeks when she offered me a trembling smile before turning to leave.
After another grueling few hours, the sheriff sent me home for the next week while he and his men took care of business. I was instructed to see a therapist in Berlin who dealt with all local law enforcement issues.
I expected PTSD would be my newest companion, but weariness clung to me like a dense fog, confusing and numbing, allowing me to make it home in the middle of the night without breaking down.
Dex met me at the door, dark eyes empathetic and concerned. He threw his arms around me and held me tight, and I gave over to the need for someone else to be my strength for a change.
I’d informed him of what I could without breaking the law, and he’d texted that he’d been keeping up on the town gossip via various sources.
“You did the right thing,” he stated calmly and with authority while I sagged against him.
“I would do it again,” I murmured.
He clapped my back and stepped away, eyeing me. “You good?”
I blew out a slow exhale that did nothing to ease the tiredness I felt clear down to my bones. “Probably not, but I’m too damned exhausted to face this shit tonight. Is Jimmy still sleeping?”
“Yep. Haven’t heard a peep out of him all evening. He got up to use the bathroom once, came down for a glass of water, and disappeared again.”
“He say anything to you about Darla?”
“Nope.”
“You and I need to talk about what you’ve been up to,” I said, “but not now.”
Dex nodded, clasping my shoulder once more. “I’m fine— we’re fine.”
“You and Christian?”
He shrugged. “No need to worry about me and my love life.”
“Love?”
A grimace marred his face. “Obsession? Possessiveness? Need for ownership? I have no fucking clue what to call whatever this is with Cole, but it’s hot as fuck.
Twisted and probably a little toxic.” He shrugged again and turned away to grab his shoes and coat.
“If you need an ear, I’ll always be here for you, Sutton.
And take care of that boy—he needs you just as much as you need him, Chief.
I’m happy for you. Hope this shit gets settled soon. ”
“Thanks.” I saw Dex out, locked up for the night, and trudged upstairs.
The various showerheads in the master bathroom called my name, but I didn’t want to disturb Jimmy if he was out cold. Peeking into my bedroom revealed he slept like an angel, lips parted and forehead smoothed as though nothing from the day’s events lingered in his brain.
I made do with the guest bedroom’s single showerhead, noting the used towel hanging on the rack and wet washcloth folded over the tub’s edge.
Like Dex had told me, Darla’s car had been gone when I’d pulled up, and I’d never known such relief.
Hot water pelted my shoulders, and I hung my head, allowing the floodgates of grief to open.
Tears slid down from my face, and I bit my tongue, swallowing against sobs that would wake my love from much-needed rest. While Mary’s forgiveness and understanding went a long way toward easing my guilt for taking her son from her—ripping DJ’s dad from his life—I feared the future.
Having studied about PTSD when it came to cops and the choices they had to make in the line of duty, I knew rough days were ahead of me.
Jimmy would no longer be my sole focus, since I would have trauma of my own.
But we would hold each other’s hands and hopefully find the healing we needed to find lasting peace.
Once I drained myself of tears, I got out of the shower and dried off, anxious to join Jimmy in our bed.
The sight of him sleeping like an angel—breathing life into his lungs—tightened my throat again, and I crawled beneath the covers, desperate to have his warm skin against mine.
Snuggling against his backside was like coming home. I soaked in the heat of his lax body, breathing in his natural sweet scent that clung to his skin.
His panties separated his ass cheeks from my bare groin, but my dick couldn’t be bothered to stir—not one single twitch of interest over the plump cheeks it snuggled against.
Jimmy laced his fingers through mine atop his stomach with a shuddered sigh. “You’re here.”
“Mmm.”
“Are you okay?” he whispered, concern lacing his words.
“Were you able to rest?” I asked rather than answer.
“Yeah, but I woke up a couple hours ago and couldn’t get back to sleep because I was worried about you.” He rolled, rubbing his face against my chest, fingers clutching at me. “It was awful.”
“It was,” I rasped, having to swallow hard again.
“You’re not okay.” Jimmy didn’t ask a question.
I exhaled heavily. “I will be,” I assured him.
“I’m here for you, Sutton—even if you can’t or aren’t allowed to discuss it, I’m here.”
“I know, baby boy.” I smoothed my hands down his spine as he slung his leg over my waist as though needing to get closer when we already pressed as tightly against each other as possible.
He shuddered. “Can I talk about just one thing before we try to sleep?”
“Anything you need,” I whispered.
“I’m broken, Sutton.” His voice cracked, and I tilted his head away from my chest so I could see his eyes in the light filtering through the door I’d left propped open.
“Will you let me hold you while you get help gluing the pieces back together?” I asked rather than argue or attempt to lessen his trauma. His past was real, and I would never invalidate his emotions that often took control over critical thinking.
“Will you let me do the same for you?” he asked, blue eyes wet and imploring.
“Yes.” My answer confirmed how very not okay I was.
Jimmy tried for a smile, hugging me tighter. “You’re too good to me.”
“You’re perfect for me,” I insisted, tugging him higher so I could kiss his soft lips. “I thought I’d lost you when Jamie came storming in this morning and told me you’d left. Then I feared you would be ripped away from me by a bullet.” I blinked away threatening tears.
“I need you so damned much, Sutton.” Jimmy whispered words that fulfilled me, something Darla had never once declared in all our time together.
My sweet boy was nothing like my ex-wife—I didn’t have to fear him following in the footsteps of the woman who had manipulated me for years with selfish intent.
Jimmy might know what he wanted, might be driven to fulfill his desires with whatever wily tactics he had up his sleeves, but he would never intentionally hurt me.
“Please don’t leave me,” I croaked.
He stilled. “You want to keep me?”
“For as long as you’ll stay,” I assured him, my voice wavering.