One morning after their shift was over, he met her outside the department.
“I have something I need to go and do this morning,” he said. “I’ll meet you at the loft in about an hour, okay?”
Rhiannon nodded. She had her own key to his loft; he’d given it to her that first day they’d made love. He leaned down and kissed her quickly on the lips, then turned and went to his car.
True to his word, he was at the loft an hour later. Rhiannon was sitting at the kitchen table, wearing only her shirt and socks. Her legs were tucked under her as she drank tea and read the paper. Jason walked over and leaned against the table, next to where she was sitting. When Rhiannon looked up, she saw that his face was serious.
“What’s up?” she asked, worried.
“Nothing,” he said calmly. “I was just looking at you—is that okay?” he asked with a grin.
“Yeah, it’s okay,” she replied, giving him a sour look, then smiled.
He took her hand, pulling her out of the chair and up against him. He leaned down and kissed her softly, then led her over to the couch. He sat, and she lay down with her head in his lap, something they often did in the mornings. They talked for a few minutes, about work as usual, reviewing the night’s shift. Then they moved on to other topics.
During the course of the conversation they started talking about how being a cop made them so different from other people. How cops tended to have only other cops as friends.
“Cops understand other cops,” Rhiannon said, shrugging. “That’s what my dad always said, and I think it’s true. Don’t you?”
Jason shrugged. “It is true for the most part, but it can be a bad thing too.”
“How?” she asked, sitting up and facing him.
Not wanting to lose physical contact with her, he reached out and pulled her onto his lap. She sat straddling him.
“I just think when you limit yourself to other cops, you end up only talking about work all the time, and it can become more negative than positive.”
Rhiannon looked thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe. But you also don’t run into the conflicts you can with people who aren’t cops.”
“Like what?”
“Like people who don’t believe drugs should be illegal, or that drinking and driving is okay, or whatever other laws people don’t like. It becomes a hindrance for a cop, because we have a conflict between doing our job and having friends.”
Jason thought about that, appreciating the fact that she looked at everything, not just accepting someone else’s opinion. He nodded. “You could be right. So what about marriage?” he asked. “Do you think cops should marry other cops?”
“I think it’s easier.”
“Easier? How?”
“Well, other cops understand the odd hours, the stress, the stuff we go through.”
“So, you’d marry a cop?”
“Yes.”
He grinned. “Wanna marry me?”
Rhiannon laughed. “If you’re lucky,” she said, smiling broadly.
He reached into his jacket, smiling. “Maybe this will give me luck,” he said, and pulled out a small box. He handed it to her.
Rhiannon’s smile faded, her eyes widening as she looked from the box to his face. “Jason…” she said, trailing off as he opened the box. Nestled inside was a diamond ring. He was definitely not playing around here.
“I love you, Rhiannon, and I want you here with me all the time.” He kissed her softly on the lips. “Marry me.”
She stared back into his eyes. He could see she was trying to come to grips with what he was saying. He prayed silently that he hadn’t overestimated her feelings for him. All he knew was that he wanted to be with her all the time; when she wasn’t around he couldn’t stop thinking about her. She had captured his heart so quickly and so thoroughly, he thought he’d die if he couldn’t have her as his forever.
“Rhian?” he said, his voice soft but holding a note of worry.
She blinked a few times, shaking her head as if to clear it. “Jason. Jason, God, I’m sorry,” she said, making him feel suddenly sick. So much so that he almost missed what she said after that. “Yes, I want to marry you. I’m sorry, I was just so surprised that you felt like I do, I never dreamed that I could be that lucky.”
“Lucky?” he managed to stammer, even as his heart soared.
“Yes, that you love me too.”
“You do?” he said, realizing that he sounded like an idiot and not caring one bit.
Rhiannon looked at him for a long moment, a tender little smile on her face. “Yes, Jason Templeton. I love you, and I would be honored to be your wife.”
Jason pulled her into his arms, hugging her so tight she couldn’t breathe. She laughed, realizing that her dreams had indeed just come true. She knew she’d been in love with him from the time he came to see her when she was sick. She had seen in him the gentleness and caring that was so rare in men, especially men in their profession. It had taken her aback to realize she was in love with him, and she had told herself sternly that she needed to keep things professional. It hadn’t worked, but she hadn’t been the one to give in. Now to find out that he loved her, that he wanted to marry her, was just beyond comprehension. She was happier than she’d ever thought possible.
That day, she took Jason to meet her mother and her younger sister, Stevie. They went to her mother’s house first. She was very pleasant to Jason. She wasn’t overly enthusiastic about Rhiannon marrying another police officer, but Rhiannon understood that. MaryAnne O’Neil had lost her husband of nineteen years because he was a police officer; she didn’t wish that same fate on her daughters.
They left her mother’s house and drove over to the high school to meet Stevie when she got out of class. They waited out front, leaning against Jason’s car. Jason found that he couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot, and whenever he looked down at Rhiannon she was doing the same. It was pretty fun, this being in love thing.
Stevie came out of the school and spotted the cool black ’56 Chevy with the flames right away, then noticed that it was her sister and some really nice-looking cop-type standing next to it. She walked over, for all intents and purposes looking like the classic rebel, with her faded jeans, black T-shirt, jean jacket, and tennis shoes. Her hair, a couple of shades lighter than Rhiannon’s deep auburn, was pulled back in a long braid. She looked the car over as she said, “Heya, Rhi.” Then she looked directly at Jason. “Who’re you?”
Jason glanced at Rhiannon and grinned. “Cop’s kids,” he said, then turned back to Stevie and extended his hand. “I’m Jason Templeton.”
Stevie looked at his hand and nodded, making no move to take it. “You’re her FTO,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Yes, I am,” he replied, dropping his hand and moving it to scratch at the small of his back, where his off-duty weapon rested.
“So why are you here now?” Stevie asked, her ever-suspicious mind not missing a thing.
“Stevie!” Rhiannon snapped. “Don’t be such a snot, okay?”
Stevie grinned, enjoying that she’d made her sister lose her patience. Rhiannon was always the sweet, angelic sister; Stevie strove to be the exact opposite.
“So…” Stevie said, moving to look the car over more thoroughly, running her hand along the body, talking casually over her shoulder. “You two are a thing, huh?”
“A thing?” Rhiannon repeated, wondering why she’d thought this would be a good idea.
“Yeah,” Stevie said, looking inside the open passenger window. “You know, fucking and all that.”
“You kiss Mom with that mouth?” Rhiannon said, embarrassed that her sister was being so rude.
“I kiss lots of people with this mouth,” Stevie countered. She straightened, smiling up at Jason. “So, you staying or just passing through?”
“I’m staying,” Jason said, not put off one bit by Stevie’s audacious behavior.
Stevie looked thoughtful for a moment, nodding as if making some
sort of decision within her own mind. She extended her hand.
“I’m Stevie, and you’re pretty much stuck with me too.”
Jason took her hand and smiled down at the younger O’Neil sister. This girl was going to be trouble for any guy that tried to deal with her. He was glad he’d apparently passed whatever test she’d been giving him.
From that day forward, Stevie and Jason were like brother and sister. He was forever rescuing her from some trouble she was in, a job previously handled by her older sister. They’d get calls in the middle of the night from MaryAnne, worried because Stevie hadn’t come home; it was Jason that would find her and take her back to her mother’s house, or back to his and Rhiannon’s home if she was drunk, because Rhiannon was adamant about their mother not seeing her youngest daughter inebriated. Jason would be the final say on whether a guy Stevie was dating was a slime or not; if Jason didn’t like him, he didn’t get very far. Stevie put her faith in Jason’s judgment. He became the father she’d lost and the older brother she’d never had.
If Jason had disapproved of something Stevie was doing, she would stop doing it. But because he’d admired her spirit, he was careful to never say anything negative unless what she was doing was going to cause her harm.
Stevie had been almost as devastated when Jason was killed as Rhiannon had been. But Stevie had taken her anguish and turned it into a rage that she’d controlled and focused on getting revenge for her brother-in-law’s killer. The fact that she finally had made it easier to breathe. That night Stevie lay in her bed, thinking about what had come to pass. She fell asleep hoping that next she could manage to get her sister to live again.
That same night, Rick and Midnight were sleeping when the phone rang. Rick groaned, reaching out automatically to pick it up.
“’lo,” he said, barely awake.
“Señor Debenshire?” queried a heavily accented voice.
“Yes?” Rick replied, coming further awake as his sixth sense started to tingle.
“Is Señora Debenshire in?”
“She’s right here,” Rick said. He knew this was not going to be a good phone call, sure that he recognized the voice of the Mexican police chief. He nudged Midnight gently. “Night, it’s for you.”
Midnight turned over, taking the phone.
She spoke for a few minutes while Rick waited anxiously, then reached over and hung up.
“What?” he asked, his nerves already on edge.
Midnight took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. He wasn’t going to like what she was about to tell him. “Julio Martinez escaped from the Mexican prison tonight.”
Rick was sure his heart stopped. “He what?” Rick was praying he hadn’t heard right. That he hadn’t just heard that the man who had almost succeeding in killing Midnight three years ago was now out of prison.
“He escaped. Moncarro called me as soon as he’d set every cop he had available on his trail.”
“Jesus…” Rick breathed.
“I know, I know,” Midnight said, her mind already working.
“He’s coming here,” Rick said. It wasn’t a question.
Midnight looked at him, then closed her eyes, nodding slowly. “They don’t know for sure which direction he ran in, but Moncarro told me he wanted to make sure I knew.”
Rick nodded. “He’ll be gunning for you again.”
“I know,” Midnight said. “And he’ll be looking to take his son. We can’t let him get ahold of Ricardo.”
“We can’t let him get near either one of you,” Rick said as he reached for the phone, his voice stronger now.
“What are you doing?”
“Putting out an APB on the son of a bitch. If he crosses the border anywhere populated I want him caught or shot, preferably the latter.”
Midnight nodded, swallowing convulsively. She was more worried about Ricardo than she was for herself. Things could get really bad—but that’s what happens when the past catches up to the present.
You can find more information about the author and series here:
www.sherrylhancock.com
www.facebook.com/SherrylDHancock
www.vulpine-press.com/midknight-blue-series
Also by Sherryl D. Hancock:
The WeHo series follows a group of women from Los Angeles as they navigate the ups and downs of love, life, work, and everything in between.
www.vulpine-press.com/we-ho
The Wild Irish Silence series. Escape into the world of BJ Sparks and discover how he went from the small-town boy to the world-famous rock star.
www.vulpine-press.com/wild-irish-silence-series
Past in the Present (MidKnight Blue Book 9) Page 21