Chapter 22
Sawyer
During my lunch break, I decide to swing by Alice’s house to check on her after what happened this morning with the tracker.
I know she usually goes home for lunch when she’s not at the coffee shop, and finding that device really shook her up.
Maybe I’m being overprotective, but something about this whole situation has my instincts on high alert.
I pull into her driveway and immediately notice Alice’s front door is standing wide open. That’s not right. Alice would never leave her door open, especially not after finding a tracker on her car this morning.
Something’s wrong.
I get out of my patrol car and approach the house carefully, my training kicking in. As I get closer, I can hear voices from inside. Alice’s voice, high and scared, and a man’s voice, angry and loud.
“You think you can just run away from me?" The voice is familiar—Lance. "Moving to a new town doesn't change anything. You're still mine.”
Son of a bitch.
I move quickly to the doorway and see them in the living room.
The sharp scent of fear cuts through the house's usual vanilla smell.
Alice is pressed back against her bookshelf, and Lance has her by the wrist, gripping it hard enough that I can see her wincing.
Her glasses are askew, and there are already books scattered on the floor.
“Let me go!” Alice shouts, trying to pull away.
“You’re mine, Alice. You will always be mine.” Lance tightens his grip, and I can see her face contort in pain. “And that tracker? You had no right to take that off. I have the right to know where you are at all times.”
That’s when I see him raise his other hand like he’s going to hit her.
Not on my watch. Not ever.
“Police! Let her go!”
Lance spins toward me, still holding Alice’s wrist. For a split second, I see genuine surprise cross his face, then rage. “Officer Edwards. How convenient.”
“It is when someone's breaking the law.” I step into the room, hand moving instinctively toward my weapon.
“What are you going to do?” Lance’s face is red with rage, but there’s calculation there too. “You’ll shoot me? Over her? Your career won’t survive that kind of scandal.”
Instead of letting go, he jerks Alice closer to him, making her stumble. She’s trying not to cry, but I can see the terror in her golden-brown eyes. God, the fear in her eyes. I should have done more to protect her. Should have seen this coming.
“Last warning,” I say, moving closer but keeping my voice level. “Let. Her. Go.”
Lance laughs, but it’s not a pleasant sound. “You think you can just take what’s mine? I know everywhere she goes, everyone she talks to. Including you, Sawyer. I can destroy your career before it even gets started. You’ll never be anything more than a patrol officer after I’m done with you.”
Part of me knows he could actually do it. The Carlstons have that kind of power. Everything I've worked for could disappear. But looking at Alice pressed against that bookshelf, terrified—none of that matters.
He shoves Alice away from him so hard she hits the bookshelf. Books tumble to the floor around her, and she slides down, cradling her wrist.
That’s it.
I move fast, grabbing Lance’s arm and spinning him around before he can react. “Lance Carlston, you’re under arrest for assault, stalking, and breaking and entering.”
“Get your hands off me!” Lance tries to pull away, but I’m stronger and I have training. I force his arm behind his back, applying just enough pressure to control him without causing injury.
I key my radio. "Dispatch, this is Edwards. I need backup at 337 Maple Street. One in custody, assault and B&E.”
“You have the right to remain silent,” I start, but Lance isn’t done fighting.
He tries to elbow me in the ribs, so I press him firmly against the wall to control him. His cheek scrapes the surface. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
“Alice, tell him to stop! Tell him we were just talking!” Lance shouts.
I get the first cuff on him, but he’s still struggling. “You have the right to an attorney…”
“I’ll destroy you,” Lance snarls at me over his shoulder. “Both of you. My family has connections in this county you can’t even imagine.”
I get the second cuff locked and step back, breathing hard. The metallic click echoes in the quiet house. Lance's cheek is red where it pressed against the wall, but I don't feel an ounce of sympathy for him.
“If I were you, I’d worry less about making threats and more about getting a good lawyer,” I tell him.
I turn to check on Alice. She’s sitting on the floor next to the bookshelf, rubbing her wrist where Lance grabbed her. Her glasses are crooked, and there are tears in her eyes she’s trying to hold back.
“Are you hurt?” I ask, kneeling down beside her.
“My wrist hurts, but I think I’m okay.” Her voice is shaky.
“I need to document your injuries. Can you show me your wrist?”
She extends her arm, and I can see red marks already turning purple where Lance grabbed her. I take photos with my phone for the report.
“How did you know to come?”
“I wanted to check on you after this morning. Good thing I did.”
If I'd been five minutes later… Five minutes and he could have—
No.
I'm not going there. She's safe. That's what matters.
Lance is still ranting from where I have him positioned against the wall. “This won’t stick. You can’t prove anything. It’s her word against mine, and everyone knows she’s unstable.”
“Actually,” I say, standing up, “I witnessed you assault her and force entry into her home. That’s more than enough.”
I grab Lance by the cuffs and guide him toward the door. He tries to resist, dragging his feet like a child, but I’m done being patient.
“Alice,” he calls over his shoulder as I force him outside, “this isn’t over. You know you belong with me. You know no one else will ever want you.”
“The only place you belong is in a cell,” I tell him, opening the back door of my patrol car.
He tries to resist getting in, so I have to use my hand on his head to guide him down into the seat. Standard procedure, but Lance acts like I’m trying to kill him.
“I’m going to file a complaint!”
“File all the complaints you want,” I shut the door and turn back to Alice, who’s followed us outside. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She nods, but she’s still shaking. “I can’t believe he was in my house. I locked the door when I got home, I know I did.”
“How did he get in?”
“He knocked, and when I opened the door with the chain still on, he forced his way through.” She looks at her front door. “He broke the chain right off the frame. The door too.”
I look at the damaged door and feel my anger spike again. This wasn’t just harassment or even simple assault. Lance broke into her home, destroyed her property, and physically attacked her. In my town. In my jurisdiction.
“I need to take him in and process him,” I tell Alice. “But you probably shouldn’t be alone tonight. Do you have somewhere safe to stay?”
Protocol says she should stay with friends or family.
“Yeah, I’ll call Madison.”
She's pale, still shaking. Her wrist is already swelling. But there's something else in her expression now—not just fear. Relief, maybe. Or the beginning of it.
As I get in my patrol car, Lance is still talking from the back seat. His voice grates against my last nerve.
“You have no idea who you’re messing with, Edwards. My family owns half this county. Real estate, businesses, politicians. You’re just some small-town cop.”
I catch his eyes in the rearview mirror. “And you're just another abuser who thinks he's above the law. We'll see what the judge thinks.”
The look he gives me is pure hatred, but there’s something else there too. A promise that this is far from over. He’s not the type to give up just because he’s been arrested.
Let him try. I'll be ready for whatever comes next.
By the time we get Lance processed and into a cell, word is already spreading through town. Small towns are like that—someone saw my patrol car at Alice's house, and now everyone's talking. The arrest is public record. If Lance has other victims out there, they'll hear about this.
Alice isn't just someone I'm interested in anymore. After what I witnessed today, after seeing the terror in her eyes and the bruises forming on her wrist—after hearing her scream—this isn't just personal anymore. This is everything.
Lance Carlston just made the biggest mistake of his life.