Chapter 77
HARLAN - SOMETHING BETTER
The station wasn’t silent anymore.
Phones rang. Keyboards clacked. Voices called out across desks. It almost felt like it used to, before Erin Voss weaponized a badge and turned the department into a goddamn minefield.
But this time, something was different.
Because the ones still standing?
They were here for the right reasons.
It felt alive and vibrant with purpose; in a way it hadn't in a very long time.
I stepped to the front of the squad room and waited for the chatter to die.
Some of the officers stood. Others watched with wary, unreadable expressions. But they were here. Still showing up. Still giving a damn.
“We’ve come a long way,” I said. “Not so long ago, this department was on the brink. Officers turned against each other. Chains of command meant nothing. Victims were silenced. And predators were protected.”
I let that settle, raking my eyes across the room.
“But you chose better. You stood up. You stepped in. And it’s time that gets recognized.”
I looked toward the back row.
“Officer Reid. Front and center.”
He blinked like he thought he’d misheard me, then slowly rose and walked forward. Shoulders squared, chin high. The kid had grown up ten years in a few months.
“Some of you might remember a moment during this chaos when lines blurred, when orders didn’t feel right. When hesitation could’ve meant someone didn’t make it out alive.” I nodded toward him. “Reid didn’t hesitate.”
He swallowed hard as I stepped closer and pinned a new bar to his collar.
“Effective immediately, Reid is being promoted to sergeant. Not just for his actions, but for the integrity and damn backbone he’s shown ever since he set foot in this precinct.”
Applause broke out, loud and real. A few officers even whistled.
Reid flushed, but a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Try not to let it go to your head,” I muttered as I shook his hand.
“Too late,” he deadpanned.
Laughter rippled through the room.
I waited for it to settle before turning toward the side door, where Gray leaned with his arms crossed. No badge. No official tie to us, but he’d bled for this town, fought harder than most of the men sworn to protect it.
“I’ve got one more announcement,” I said. “We’ve got a vacancy for a sergeant.” I didn’t say Voss’s name. No one needed the reminder.
“I’ve spoken to the brass. And to IA. The contract’s drafted. Background’s been cleared. All that’s left is the signature.”
Gray raised a brow. “What are you offering me?”
“A real badge,” I said. “Permanent placement. No quotas, no politics. Just the job. The right way.”
He tilted his head. “You think this place can handle me in uniform?”
“God, I hope not.”
A pause. Then Gray pushed off the wall and strode forward. He didn’t smile. But he took the paperwork from my outstretched hand and tucked it under his arm.
“I’ll need my own office,” he said. “And at least one knife in my desk drawer.”
“Make it two,” I replied. “We’ll call it even.”
Chuckles echoed again. And just like that, it felt like we were finally turning the page.
After the announcements, I returned to my office. Closed the door. Let the weight sink in.
IA had followed through. Several officers were under federal investigation, a few already in custody. The press was running wild with the judge’s case. Erin’s name was toxic now; everyone around her was being looked at with a new clarity, and some were joining her stepfather in jail.
And Jack?
He’d disappeared into the political machine. Press conferences. City Hall appearances. There was talk of an early campaign announcement, rumours swirling that he’d be named the next DA by fall. I hadn’t heard from him since the cabin. Neither had Ava. Not really.
But every time I turned on the news, there he was. In a suit. On a podium. Fighting for the same justice he’d once whispered about in back rooms.
He was building something.
And so were we.
This station, this town, we weren’t what we used to be. We were raw. Wounded. But we were still here. Still trying.
I looked up at the photo on my shelf, Ava and I at the fundraiser. Her hand on my chest. My arm around her shoulders. We looked tired, even then. But we were smiling.
This past month had been hard; she had taken Remi's advice and was seeing a therapist whom she trusted. One who wouldn't question Ava's reason for her diagnosed PTSD, or how she reacted when she was around a gun.
She was working through her fears and memories with a strength I admired.
Ava had spoken to me a lot about how she felt like Remi never truly saw herself as others did, and I often wondered the same about the women who owned my heart.
She didn't see herself as I did or as Remi did.
Her heart, her fire, and her loyalty were just a few of the reasons why I knew without a doubt that I was going to marry her.
And maybe... if we were lucky... start something new.
Build something together.
Something better.
A legacy worth protecting.