Chapter 34 Luke
Luke
Luke steered Eli straight past the front desk. Grace walked at Luke's other side, her hand in his.
Luke Bennett, walking openly through the station, flanked by Harts.
Eli moved stiffly, jaw locked, his weight uneven as he favored his left side.
“EMT’s on their way,” Luke said quietly.
Eli lowered himself onto the bench in the small exam room with a careful hiss of breath. He leaned forward, forearms braced on his knees, and let his head drop for a moment.
“The police station,” he muttered, not looking up, “is usually where things go bad for me.”
Grace’s grip tightened. Luke squeezed her hand in answer.
“Not tonight,” he said to Eli.
A knock sounded on the half-open door.
“Evening,” a voice called. “Heard somebody decided to test their ribs.”
Evan Roberts stepped in, EMT bag slung over one shoulder. He wore navy uniform pants and a fire department T-shirt. Tall. Broad through the shoulders. Calm in that way first responders either learned or were born with.
“Roberts,” Luke acknowledged with a nod.
“Bennett.” Evan’s gaze shifted to Eli. “You’re my problem tonight?”
Eli gave him a crooked look. “Depends. You gentle?”
Evan snorted softly. “Not especially. But I’m efficient.”
Evan set his bag down and crouched in front of Eli. “Alright. Tell me what hurts.”
“Ribs,” Eli muttered.
“Yeah, I gathered that.” Evan’s hands moved with practiced confidence, pressing carefully along Eli’s side.
Grace hovered near the wall. Luke stayed beside her. When Eli flinched, her fingers curled tighter around Luke’s hand. He didn’t move. Didn’t look away.
Eventually Evan stepped back. “Nothing feels broken. You’ve got some solid bruising, though. You’re going to hate tomorrow.”
When they were alone again, Eli leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, the tension bleeding slowly out of his shoulders.
Luke turned to Grace.
“We need to take his statement now,” he said. “You can’t be here for that.”
Her mouth tightened immediately. “I don’t want to leave—”
“You’re not leaving,” he said, softer now. “Just… you’ll have to wait out here.”
He squeezed her hand and guided her back into the main area of the station.
Luke stopped at his desk. The chair he spent most of his waking hours in.
He pulled it out for her. “Sit.”
Grace lowered herself into it. She looked small there. Wrapped too tight in her coat. Her shoulders still drawn up like she was bracing for impact.
Seeing her in his chair—his space—did something sharp and protective in his chest.
Luke grabbed his mug, then headed down the hall to the break area. The machine whirred and clanked like it always did, spitting out the hot chocolate. Bad hot chocolate. Too sweet. But at least it would be hot.
He brought it back and set the mug in front of her. Watched her hands close around it. Watched her shoulders ease, her breath deepen, just a little.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Luke said.
Grace looked up at him then.
She nodded once. “Okay.”
Luke stood there for a beat longer than necessary, then turned back toward the hallway.
He had work to do.
Sullivan took the chair across from Eli and set the recorder on the table. Luke stayed leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, presence quiet but unmistakable.
Eli talked.
He’d worked for a group out of the city. Low-level. Driving, deliveries, being where he was told to be. He hadn’t asked too many questions. Hadn’t wanted to know the answers.
“I was useful,” Eli said. “That’s about it.”
“And you decided to quit,” Sullivan prompted.
Eli nodded once. “Yeah.”
“You tell them where you were headed?”
“No,” Eli said. “Just that I was done.”
Sullivan scribbled something down, then looked up. “And they didn’t take that well.”
Eli gave a humorless snort. “No.”
Luke pushed off the wall then and stepped closer to the table.
“There’s some old stuff on you here,” he said. “Crystal Lake. Years back.”
Eli’s jaw tightened. “Figures.”
“Petty,” Luke went on. “Trespassing. A theft charge that never got resolved. Some unpaid fines.”
Eli winced. “Yeah. I figured that’d catch up with me eventually.”
“It is,” Luke said evenly. “But not the way you think.”
He let that hang for a moment.
"We can put you under probation for the old charges," Luke continued. "Local. You stay in Crystal Lake. Mandatory check-ins. You follow the rules, keep your head down."
Silence settled over the room.
“This keeps you here,” Luke added. “Under our jurisdiction.”
Officially, accountability. Unofficially, it meant protection.
“They don’t come here,” Luke said. “If they do, they get arrested.”
Eli stared at him for a long moment, searching his face like he was trying to figure out the angle.
Luke held his gaze. “This keeps Grace safe.”
That did it.
Eli swallowed and nodded. “Then yeah. I’m in.”
Luke straightened. “Good.”
He stepped back toward the door. He wasn’t done yet.
He’d make the call. He’d have a quiet word with Rourke. Make sure the message landed exactly where it needed to.
Then—
He stepped back toward the door.
He needed to get back to Grace.
She was still at his desk, hands wrapped around the mug he’d given her. Watching him. Waiting.
He held her gaze.
I’ve got this, he hoped she could read there. I’ve got you.
He turned and stepped into an empty office, shutting the door behind him. The hum of the fluorescent light filled the silence as he pulled the number Eli had given him.
It rang twice before it was answered.
“Yeah?” a man answered, sounding annoyed. “Who is this?”
“Officer Luke Bennett,” Luke said. “Crystal Lake Police.”
There was a pause on the line.
“Eli Hart is in my town,” he continued. “He’s on probation. Under active supervision.”
Another beat.
“That makes him my jurisdiction,” Luke said. “Any of your people step foot in Crystal Lake, they get picked up. I don’t care who they are or what they think they’re doing.”
The man exhaled slowly, like he was already weighing the math.
Luke went on. “If someone comes looking for him, it becomes my problem. And I don’t drop problems.”
Silence stretched. Long enough that Luke imagined the man picturing court dates. Paper trails. Attention he didn’t want.
He imagined Grace’s front porch, her locked door, the way her shoulders had finally eased when Luke had said I’ll handle it.
“He’s not worth the heat,” Luke said, steady. “You know that.”
Another pause.
Then a faint click of tongue against teeth. “Fine,” the man said at last. “He’s done. We’re done.”
“Good,” Luke replied.
The line went dead.
Luke lowered the phone and stood there for a moment longer than necessary, listening to the empty office settle back into quiet.
Luke stepped into view in front of the holding cell.
“Rourke.”
The man looked up slowly, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “Officer.”
“Your boss just cut Eli loose,” Luke said.
Rourke leaned back against the bench, cuffs clinking softly. “That so?”
Luke stepped closer to the bars.
Not rushed. Not angry. Deliberate.
“You touched Grace Hart,” Luke said. “On her porch.”
Rourke’s smile flickered—just barely.
Luke closed the distance until the bars were inches from his face.
“Let me be very clear,” he said quietly. “You don’t go anywhere near her. Not her house. Not her job. Not her street. Not her town.”
Rourke’s eyes sharpened, something calculating sliding into place.
“If I see you again,” Luke continued, voice even and controlled, “it won’t be a warning. It won’t be a conversation. I will bury you in charges so deep you won’t see daylight for a very long time.”
The smile didn’t disappear—but it thinned. Tightened.
“You’re awful sure of yourself for a small-town cop,” Rourke said.
Luke straightened.
“I’m sure of one thing,” he replied. “You don’t get to touch her again.”
Silence stretched between them—tight, electric.
“You’ll be arraigned in the morning,” Luke added over his shoulder as he turned away. “And when you make bail, you’re leaving Crystal Lake.”
He didn’t look back.
He’d done everything by the book.
Grace was safe. Eli was safe. The threat was contained.