22. Henry
Henry
Sitting my ass in a jail cell isn’t exactly how I planned to spend my day. Then again, I also didn’t plan on punching Dane Jacobs in the face, but here we are.
I lean back against the cool concrete wall of the cell, arms crossed over my chest, boot tapping out a restless rhythm against the floor. The station is quiet, the kind of silence that makes a man think too much.
I hate waiting.
Hate sitting still.
But most of all, I hate that I’ve got nothing to do but replay the expression I believe would be on Emily’s face when she learns of what I’d done—I can imagine her voice sharp with anger, frustration simmering in her eyes.
She doesn’t like violent men. And that’s exactly why I need to let her go.
Because no one is as violent as I am—unless whenever I’m next to her, being close to her makes me want to be calm, always to be the cool rock-like boulder she can rest on until someone crosses her, and then I want to tear them apart.
The thought burns like whiskey going down too fast.
Footsteps echo down the hall, breaking the quiet.
I don’t have to look up to know who it is.
Chief Tom.
"Back again?" I say, keeping my voice light. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you locked me in here just to keep seeing me, Chief."
Chief Tom leans against the bars, sipping from a coffee cup. "Oh yeah, Walker. This is exactly how I wanna spend my final days until retirement—checking in on your sorry ass in lockup."
I smirk, but it’s half-hearted at best. "Are you here to tell me someone’s finally decided to bail me out?"
Tom shrugs. "I called Sarah and Emily. Figured one of them would take pity on you soon enough."
Something tightens in my chest.
Emily now knows I’m here.
And yet…
I school my features into indifference. "And if neither shows?"
Tom gives me a long, measured look. "Then I guess you’ll be getting comfortable in there for a while."
I snort. "Wouldn’t be the worst thing."
"Yeah?" Tom lifts a brow. "Then why do you keep checking the damn door?"
I don’t respond.
Tom sighs. "You’re running again, Henry."
My jaw clenches. "I don’t run."
He scoffs. "That’s all you do. You ran from this town after your father died. Ran from your sister when she needed you. You ran into the military to get yourself killed on foreign soil. And now? You’re running from Emily."
I glare at him, but he doesn’t back down.
"You think pushing her away will protect her? That making her hate you will save her?" He shakes his head. "You don’t get to decide what’s best for her. That’s not how love works."
I look away. "It’s not love."
Tom laughs, but there’s no humor in it. "Then why are you sitting in that cell looking like a damn kicked dog because you knocked the lights out of the man who used to date her?"
I don’t have an answer.
Because deep down, I know the truth.
And it terrifies me.
After Tom leaves, I lean forward, elbows resting on my knees, staring at the scuffed floor.
The memories come fast, relentless.
My mother—gone before I ever had a chance to know her. My father—dead after years of struggling to raise two kids alone. Aubrey—bleeding out in my arms, her life slipping away too damn fast.
The pattern is clear.
People who I love are soon lost. And if I let myself love Emily—if I admit what I already know in my gut—she’ll end up the same way.
It’s safer this way.
Safer if she hates me. Safer if she lets me go first.
But then why does the thought of losing her make my chest feel like it’s caving in?
I curse under my breath, dragging my hands through my hair.
Sixty minutes pass. Then another hour. Then another two.
Plenty of time for Emily to get here. And yet…she’s not here. Maybe she’s not coming. A bitter laugh escapes me. Maybe she’s finally seen me for what I am.
A coward. A lost cause. A man who only knows how to run.
I’ve stopped counting the time when the young deputy walks in, fumbling with his keys. “You’re free to go.”
It’s hard to get a hold of the mix of ridiculous hope and excitement clawing its way up my chest. But when I lift my head, it’s not Emily waiting for me. It’s Sarah.
Disappointment punches me in the gut, but I shove it down fast.
I stand quickly, masking the sudden weight in my chest. "Didn’t expect you."
Sarah leans against the doorway, arms crossed. "I was at a conference when Tom called," she says. "Then Emily left me a message asking me to bail you out."
My stomach knots.
So Emily did know. And she sent Sarah instead.
"She didn’t come," I mutter, more to myself than her.
Sarah shrugs. "Guess not."
The young deputy unlocks the cell, stepping back to let me through. I move stiffly, muscles tight, but Sarah watches me closely.
"You okay?" she asks.
I force a smirk. "A little banged up. But I’ll live."
She rolls her eyes. "Always the tough guy."
We step outside into the cool night air and Sarah crosses her arms. “Stupid of you to get in that fight with Dane Henry. I thought you were smarter.”
My eyebrows lift. “Are you saying that as the sister of the man who beat someone up or the wife of the man whose sponsor was knocked out?”
Sarah’s eyes narrow. “You don't get to play that card, little brother.” She crosses her arms and takes a threatening step towards me, forcing me to step back instinctively and raise my hands.
“I agree. It’s stupid.”
"Good. Now you want me to take you home or to Emily’s?"
I hesitate. Emily didn’t come. Didn’t call. Didn’t check in. It can either mean she’s done with me or she might be in danger. I need to see her now.
"Second option," I say, voice rough. "Take me to Emily’s."
We climb into the car, leaving a trail of dust behind as she zooms away from the police station. The ride is quiet, but Sarah keeps glancing at me. I keep my eyes on the road ahead and pretend I didn’t see her.
Finally, she sighs.
"You’re in love with her."
My hands tighten into fists.
"I—"
"Don’t even try to deny it," she says, shaking her head. "You look like a damn lost puppy."
I scowl. "Drive faster."
Sarah just laughs. But when she speaks again, her voice is softer. "You deserve to be happy, Henry."
I let out a sharp breath. "That’s not—"
"Don’t," she cuts me off. "I know what you’re gonna say. You think you don’t deserve it. You think if you let yourself have something good, it’ll be taken from you."
I say nothing.
Sarah grips the wheel tighter. "We all lose people, Henry. That’s life. But we also find people. And if you keep running, you’re gonna wake up one day and realize you’ve lost everything before you even had the chance to fight for it."
My throat is tight. I don’t have a response because she’s right.
The car slows as we approach Emily’s house. Sarah pulls up to the curb, but I’m already out before she can put the car in park. She watches me go, shaking her head.
"Try not to screw it up this time, big brother," she mutters as she zooms away into the night.
The second I step onto the porch, something feels off.
A shadow moves inside. Then another.
I go completely still, instincts firing like a loaded gun. Someone’s in there with her.
Dane.
Or worse—someone from Black Talon.
Everything inside me snaps into combat mode. My training kicks in, shutting out rational thought, shutting out emotion. Only action remains.
I throw the door open so hard it bangs against the wall.
Emily gasps.
A man—tall, broad, unfamiliar—whirls around from where he stands near her, his eyes wide.
I don’t think. I move.
In two strides, I grab him, wrenching his arm behind his back and locking him in a chokehold. His body jerks against mine, struggling, but I tighten my grip.
“Who the hell are you?” My voice is lethal, low, vibrating with danger.
“Henry—STOP!”
Emily’s scream rips through the air.
I barely register it.
The man wheezes, clawing at my arm, and I press harder.
“Henry, LET HIM GO!”
She shoves at my chest, but it’s like a butterfly trying to move a boulder.
“He’s trying to hurt you,” I grit out, adjusting my hold. The guy’s seconds away from going unconscious.
“NO, HE’S NOT!” she yells, voice shaking with fury. “YOU ARE!”
That—more than the shouting, more than the panic in her voice—makes me freeze.
She’s looking at me like I’m the real threat.
Like I’m the danger.
I loosen my grip, and the guy stumbles away, gasping. He doesn’t even hesitate—just bolts for the door and vanishes into the night.
My heart is pounding so fast it feels like a caged animal trying to break free.
Emily stands in front of me, chest heaving, eyes blazing.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!”
I rake a hand through my hair, forcing in a breath. “Who was that?”
“MY FATHER!” she shouts.
Everything inside me short-circuits.
“What?”
Emily’s hands tremble, but her voice is steady, razor-sharp with rage. “My father, Henry. The man you just tried to strangle? The one I haven’t seen in years? The one I just let back into my life for five damn minutes before you nearly killed him?”
A hollow weight drops into my stomach.
No.
Shit.
I open my mouth, but she’s already barreling forward.
“And that’s the problem with you, Henry! You don’t think. You just react. With your fists, with your damn Navy SEAL instincts. Always violence. Always control. You act like the whole world is one big battlefield and you’re the only one who can win the war.”
My pulse roars in my ears.
“That’s not what this was,” I manage, my voice hoarse.
She lets out a bitter laugh. “No? Then what was it?”
I exhale, fighting the storm inside me. “I was protecting you.”
Emily takes a step closer, anger radiating from her in waves.
“From what, Henry? From the first decent conversation I’ve had with my father in YEARS?
From a man trying to tell his daughter that he’s been watching over her since he got out of prison?
From someone who, for the first time in my life, actually tried to keep me safe? ”
Something cracks inside me.
Because I know what she’s saying.
And I know she’s right.
Emily shakes her head, eyes filled with something like despair. “You’re not at war, Henry.” Her voice softens, but somehow, it cuts deeper. “At least, not with anyone but yourself.”
The air feels heavy, suffocating.
Then, she grabs something from the table—a stack of mail—and hurls it at me.
The letters scatter to the floor, but one stands out.
A crisp, white envelope. My name is printed in bold, black ink.
I don’t have to open it to know what it says.
Orders.
Deployment.
The words seem to glow, taunting me, confirming every awful thing she’s about to say.
She crosses her arms, her entire body vibrating with anger and something else—something fragile and broken. “You were leaving.”
I swallow hard.
She laughs, but it’s a cold, humorless sound. “And you didn’t tell me.”
“Emily—”
She throws up a hand, cutting me off. “No. Don’t bother.”
Her eyes burn into mine. “I meant nothing to you, did I?”
I feel it like a blade to the gut. “That’s not true.”
She lets out a slow, shaky breath, as if she’s trying to hold herself together. “You know what’s funny?” Her lips tremble into a smile that isn’t a smile. “I was actually starting to think this was real.”
I want to tell her it was.
I want to tell her that nothing has ever felt more real in my entire goddamn life.
But I don’t.
Because I’m a coward.
Emily lets out a choked laugh and wipes at her eyes. “You’re a liar, Henry Walker.”
She turns toward the stairs.
I take a step forward. “Emily—”
She whirls around so fast I almost collide with her.
“You don’t get to say my name like that.” Her voice shakes, but her eyes are wildfire. “Not after this. Not after you decided for both of us that this meant nothing.”
Her breathing is shallow, erratic. “I am done with men like you. Men who only know how to fight. Men who leave.” She jabs a finger at my chest. “And I am DONE with you.”
Pain slams through me, an invisible punch to the ribs.
She storms past me, heading toward the stairs, but I can’t let her leave like this.
“Emily, please—”
She whips around, eyes wet but burning. “You promised to protect me, Henry. But you were the first to break your word.”
I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until she disappears into the bedroom and slams the door.
The sound reverberates through the house.
I stand there, staring at the empty space where she was. I’ve survived firefights. Explosions. Watching people I love die in my arms.
But nothing has ever hurt like this. Feels like my soul is being torn out of me, piece by piece and every piece causing me to die inside.