Chapter 85
HARLAN - COUNTING EVERY SECOND
The air smelled like mud, ash, and diesel.
The kind of mix that lingered after a fire burned too fast to take down the whole structure, but hot enough to leave its mark. What was left of the barn was still smouldering, the corrugated roof buckled in on itself like a broken ribcage.
Gray stood beside me, hands on his hips, jaw tight.
“Wasn’t an accident,” he said.
“Nope.”
We didn’t say anything for a moment, just listened. A low, pained whinny echoed from behind the ruin, weak and ragged.
That was why I’d called Cole.
We followed the sound around what was left of the fence line, and there she was, skinny, trembling, eyes too wide and wild. A pale mare with burn scars across her side and blood on her haunches.
“Jesus,” Gray muttered.
“Cole’s already on his way.”
“He’ll fix her up,” Gray said with a nod. “He’s good at that now.”
He didn’t say he used to be good at breaking things, but we were both thinking it.
I glanced toward the dirt road where Cole’s truck would pull up any minute and felt something settle in my chest. The man who once led a chapter that glorified pain now ran a ranch that rescued those who were broken.
It wasn’t redemption exactly, but it was damn close.
Maybe Spike can turn it around too, I thought. Maybe Remi’s right.
I still didn’t trust the guy, not fully. I had been staying away, so I didn't say something I couldn't take back and screw up my relationship with Remi. Remi seemed to be doing the same; holidays were now separate, a strain I knew we all felt.
It still gnawed at me, the way she’d said, “I’m happy. Let me be happy.” The way her voice had cracked. The way she smiled now, like she didn’t think she had to apologize for it.
People changed. Hell, I was living proof.
Cole’s headlights cut through the gloom, and I waved him in. The mare tried to back away, but she didn’t have it in her.
“You’ll be alright, sweetheart,” I murmured as Cole approached with that quiet calm he carried these days. “He’s got you.”
He met my eyes over her back, nodded once. No words needed.
As we loaded the horse into his trailer, Gray lingered beside me.
“You ever think about what comes next?” he asked.
I raised a brow. “Comes next after what?”
“This.” He gestured to the scene around us, the smoke, the scorched timber, the weight we both carried. “We got out of the fire. Now, what do we build?”
I thought of the house Ava, and I were making into a home. The porch swing I hadn’t hung yet. The way she curled into me at night like it was muscle memory.
“I want it all,” I said. “The quiet. The mess. The noise of a life that doesn’t revolve around crime scenes.”
Gray gave a rare smile. “You ever think about what kind of dad you’d be?”
I snorted. “Strict.”
He laughed.
“Terrified,” I admitted. “But I’d show up. I’d show up every day.”
Gray nodded slowly. “That’s what matters.”
Before I could respond, my phone buzzed. Unknown number, but with a local area code.
“Harlan Gray,” I answered.
“Chief Gray, this is Captain Black over at Brockton. I just wanted to let you know, your reforms made the state circuit. We’re starting a restructuring next quarter and... well, your precinct’s the model.”
I blinked. “You serious?”
“As a heart attack. You’re not just turning this town around, sir. You’re making everyone take a hard look at the whole damn system.”
We exchanged a few more details, and when I hung up, Gray gave me a look.
“Good news?”
“Better than good.”
He grinned. “Damn right it is.”
That night, back at the house, Ava was sitting on the kitchen counter when I walked in, barefoot, hair messy from the wind, a half-finished bowl of cereal in her lap.
She looked up with those tired eyes that still lit me up every time they landed on me.
“Hey,” I said, dropping my keys. “How was your day?”
She shrugged. “Uneventful.”
I stepped closer and kissed her forehead. She leaned into it, like always.
Then she pulled back slightly, studying my face.
“I’m late.”
I blinked. “Work?”
She rolled her eyes. “No. My period.”
I stared at her.
A slow grin started to pull at the edge of my mouth. “You think?”
She gave a half-smile, uncertain. “Maybe.”
I didn’t say anything right away. Just reached for her hand and held it against my chest, over the place that still felt like I couldn’t believe any of this was real.
My girl. Our house. Maybe a baby.
The clock was ticking, and for once, I wasn’t afraid of the time we had left. I was counting every second of it.