Chapter 13 #3
Chambers clapped a hand on my shoulder, grounding me. “Then you tell her. Straight, no chaser. Just like you always do.”
I nodded once, heavy. Because no matter how much it would tear her, she deserved the whole truth. And I’d be right there to hold her together after it broke her.
Outside of Jonay’s house felt too bright, too sterile, like grief and fear didn’t belong in clean white light. Jonay sat small in one of those plastic chairs, arms folded tight across her chest, locs falling into her face like curtains she didn’t want to pull back.
When her eyes met mine, they widened—fear first, then relief, then that question that split my chest in two: what happened?
I dropped down in front of her, big frame folding low so I was eye-level. My hands cupped hers, warm against her trembling fingers. “Baby…” My voice cracked, so I steadied it. “It’s over. He won’t be able to hurt you or anybody else anymore.”
Her breath shuddered out, but she didn’t speak. Just searched my face, like she knew there was more and wasn’t sure she wanted it.
I held her hands tighter. “I need you to hear me on this. Straight, no filter. Kam—he confessed before he drew on me. He said he killed Taleah. He said she switched his meds, and he blamed her for y’all falling apart.
And then… then he said he was sorry. That he loved you.
That he knew I’d love you the way he couldn’t. ”
Her whole body stiffened, eyes glazing over fast. “Don’t…” She shook her head hard. “Don’t say that to me.”
I swallowed, my throat raw. “I have to. The cameras caught it all. IA’ll see it. Reports’ll spill it. You deserve to hear it from me first, not some cold ass transcript.”
Her lip trembled, tears finally slipping free. “Why he… Why he wait until now?”
“Because he was broken, gorgeous,” I said, voice thick, steadying her even as mine threatened to break.
“Sickness, lies, guilt. It all drowned him. And when he looked at me, he wasn’t asking to be saved.
He wanted me to carry his last words to you.
And I will. That’s the only part of him I’ll honor. ”
She pressed her forehead to mine, wet lashes brushing my skin. “I hate him for what he did to me. But I hate that part of me still cared.”
I kissed her knuckles, one by one, slowly. “You’re not weak for that. You’re human, baby. You loved him once, and love doesn’t just vanish so easily. But you have me now. All of me. And I’ll never put you through that kind of storm.”
Her breath hitched again, but this time, she let herself sink into me, sobbing into my chest. And I held her, strong as the walls I swore I’d always be for her.
The sirens swallowed the night. IA swarmed the house, tape went up, cameras blinked red, and Jonay’s home stopped being hers.
It was evidence now. They led her outside, wrapped in a blanket, while I gave my first clipped account under flashing lights.
I caught her eyes once before they put her in a cruiser to wait.
Fear. Relief. Love. And the unspoken question in both of us: What now?
The ride back to the precinct was dead silent.
Not the peaceful kind of silence. Not the kind that settled your spirit.
This was the kind that screamed in your chest and made your pulse feel like it was trying to escape your skin. Chambers drove. I rode shotgun with my fists clenched so tight, my fingernails left crescents in my palms.
I had just saved Jonay’s life.
But my soul still felt like it got dragged through broken glass and spat out the back of a funeral home.
When we pulled up to the IA office, it felt like a coffin with fluorescent lights, filled with gray walls, burnt-out coffee smell, and that damn red dot blinking on the recorder like an unblinking eye.
IA was already posted up in the conference room. Chief Milner stood at the edge of the hallway, arms folded, face unreadable, like he was trying to decide if he should thank me or fire me.
The precinct lights flickered like tired eyes. That overhead hum of busted fluorescents buzzed above us like a choir of petty demons. As soon as we walked in, the air thickened. I heard whispers. Felt stares.
They knew.
“Edmonds. In here. Now,” Milner said, voice tight.
I slowly stepped into the room. No fear in my bones. Just fury dressed in professionalism.
My badge was polished. My report was already drafted in my mind. Facts on lock. Intent clear.
“Officer-involved shooting. Explain,” Milner said.
Chambers leaned against the wall, arms folded, eyes locked on me with that look that said be calm. Be clear. Be undeniable.
So I did.
I sat with my badge on the table between us. It felt heavier than usual, like every stripe, every scar, every good deed I’d ever done was being weighed against the three bullets I put in Kameron Sweets.
Two investigators sat across from me, pressed suits, pens clicking.
The lead investigator cleared his throat, eyes flat. “Detective Edmonds. Walk us through what happened.”
I laced my hands together on the table, knuckles pale. My voice came steady, though my chest felt wrapped in barbed wire.
“At approximately 2300 hours, Chambers and I responded to a motion alarm at Detention Deputy Jonay Jacobson’s residence.
The rear entry had been forced open. We entered and cleared the first level, then proceeded upstairs.
The suspect, Kameron Sweets, was located in Deputy Jacobson’s bedroom, lying in wait for her to arrive home.
He was armed with a firearm. Rope was on the nightstand, and multiple controlled substances were scattered across the dresser. ”
The second investigator leaned forward. “What happened next?”
I exhaled slowly. “I issued verbal commands for the suspect to put the gun down. He did not comply. Instead, he began making threats toward Deputy Jacobson. He confessed to the murder of Taleah Carter, citing her interference with his medication regimen, and stated his intent to continue targeting Deputy Jacobson. His behavior was erratic, but his intent was clear.”
The lead investigator’s pen scratched across paper. “And then?”
“He raised his firearm and discharged a round in my direction,” I said, voice clipped. “At that point, I returned fire—three rounds, center mass. The suspect collapsed immediately. EMS confirmed DOA.”
Milner exhaled. “You have body cam?”
“Chambers does.”
Chambers nodded. “Already uploading to the secure drive.”
“Then it’s clean,” Milner said, rubbing his face. “Jesus Christ.”
I didn’t say anything. Just waited.
Milner finally looked me dead in the eye. “Go home. Take two days. Mandatory eval with Dr. Abrams. But off the record? Thank you. You saved that woman’s life tonight, Edmonds.”
The room went quiet except for the hum of the fluorescent bulbs. Then the lead investigator leaned back. “Bodycam footage confirms shots fired by both parties. However,”—he slid a transcript across the table—“the suspect made an emotional statement prior to his death. Did you hear it clearly?”
My stomach tightened. Kam’s words echoed in my skull, raw and jagged: Tell her I loved her. Tell her I know you’ll love her like I never could.
“Yes,” I answered evenly.
“And how do you interpret it?” the investigator pressed.
I kept my voice flat, cold, because I refused to let them twist it.
“Doesn’t change what he did. Doesn’t change that he refused my orders to drop his weapon.
Confession or apology, it doesn’t erase the rope, the pills, or the fact that he pulled a loaded gun on an officer. His words don’t negate his actions.”
Chief Milner nodded in agreement.
Chambers finally stepped forward, his voice sharp. “Clean shoot. I saw it. He raised first. Elias fired to stop the threat. Case closed.”
The investigator shut the folder, his tone clipped. “We’ll complete our review, but as it stands… your actions appear justified. You’re on standard administrative leave pending full review.”
Chief Milner, stated, annoyed at the theatrics, “I said that already, investigator. You’re dismissed, Edmonds. Go home.”
I stood, sliding my badge back into my palm. The weight burned against my skin. My voice stayed low but steady. “Do what you have to do. The facts don’t change.”
When I stepped out into the hallway, the air hit differently. Cooler. Freer. But my chest was still heavy, not with doubt, but with the words I couldn’t forget, words I’d already promised Jonay she’d hear from me, not from a transcript.
Tell her I loved her. Tell her I know you’ll love her like I never could.
I clenched my jaw and walked toward the exit. Protecting her meant carrying those words, standing tall in front of IA, and never letting them twist the truth of what went down.
But I didn’t go home. I went to her.
When I pulled up to her daddy’s house, Jonay was on the porch wrapped in one of those old HBCU blankets like it was a shield against the world. Her eyes were red. She looked up when she saw me, and I swore I damn near fell to my knees.
She slowly stood, like she didn’t know whether to run into my arms or run away from everything she felt.
“I killed him,” I said, barely above a whisper. “He pulled first. But I ended it.”
She didn’t speak. Just nodded, tears welling.
I walked up and wrapped my arms around her like I was tryna fuse our bones together. I held her so tight I could feel her heartbeat stuttering beneath my ribs.
“I’m here,” I murmured into her hair. “I got you. You ain’t gotta be scared no more. Ever.”
She trembled against me, her voice cracking. “You could’ve died, Elias.”
“But I didn’t.” I pulled back and cupped her face. “And even if I had, I would’ve done it a thousand times if it meant protecting you.”
Her daddy stepped out onto the porch with a nod. No words. Just the kind of look a father gave a man who proved he’d go to war behind his daughter.
He clapped my shoulder. “You need anything, son, you got it.”
“I already got everything I need,” I said, looking at Jonay.
And I meant that shit with every molecule in my body.