Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set

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Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set Page 114

by Lani Lynn Vale


  That spelled out permanent to her right there, and I was sure she was afraid to hope.

  As much as she loved me, I knew she wished for a mom to call her own.

  All of her friends had sleepovers, and their mothers were there to plan, shuttle, and party with them.

  Reagan, though, didn’t have that.

  It was inappropriate for a male to have that many little girls over at his place.

  “Oh, you really have my daughter pegged, don’t you?” Brock asked, wiping the corners of his eyes with a handkerchief that he’d withdrawn from his pocket.

  I smiled.

  “It definitely hurt her to stay yesterday. I could tell she wanted to go home. Reagan seems to be a sore spot for her. She likes her, but she also doesn’t want to stay over with Reagan there because she doesn’t want it to be ‘indecent’,” I said, air quoting with my fingers.

  He nodded. “We instilled the fear of God in our kids when they were teenagers, and I’m afraid that’s spilled over into their adult lives. No premarital sex. No sleeping, living with their significant others before marriage. You name it, we tried it. Our oldest, Denny, was an ‘oops’ baby for us. Since both of us were in the first two years of our residency, at the time, we really struggled. And we passed that wisdom down to our children. It was horribly hard, and something that we don’t recommend anyone to ever try. And we made sure they knew it, too.”

  I smiled. “I had Reagan when I was seventeen. I can concur that in no way, shape, or form was it ever easy. I joined the Navy when I was seventeen, having graduated early. Then found out, within three weeks of enlisting, that I was going to be a father. It was the hardest thing in the world to leave her, but I’d already been sworn in. I had no option. It’s a feeling that I’d never wish on my worst enemy, leaving your child thousands of miles away from you. Helpless doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

  Brock’s eyes went soft as he listened to me talk about my struggles. His going gray eyebrows lowered, and he looked down to contemplate his shoes.

  “You’re a good man, from what I hear. And I’m glad my daughter found you,” he said once I was done.

  I preened slightly at the compliment. “Thanks.”

  “Do you want another…” Brock asked, but trailed off when the front door slammed open, and a man thirty some odd years younger than Brock poured through the door.

  He was angry.

  That I could tell within moments of entering.

  He had a scowl on his face that could rival the very one I had on mine at the moment, and his eyes were narrowed on me.

  “Who’re you?” he rumbled.

  I raised my brow.

  “Bennett Alvarez. Who’re you?” I countered.

  I knew exactly who it was.

  I could tell not just because he was standing next to his father who looked like he could pass as the man’s brother, but also because he looked a lot like his sister.

  “Denny Jane,” he said, not offering me his hand.

  I gave him a nod but said no more.

  Brock, however, went about introducing us.

  “Denny,” Brock said. “This is Lennie’s boyfriend, Bennett. He’s a SWAT officer with the KPD. That’s his daughter with your mom and sister. She’s seven?”

  That last part was directed at me, and I nodded my head.

  “Eight,” I confirmed.

  “Lennie doesn’t have boyfriends,” he said after he studied me for a while. “She doesn’t like to be tied down.”

  I raised a brow at him. “Does she now?”

  Denny narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re saying I’m lying?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’m just saying she changed her mind.”

  Brock snorted. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were going out with Melanie tonight.”

  Denny crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Apparently, surprising her wasn’t the ‘right’ thing to do.” He let out a low breath. “Because when I surprised her that I had gotten off work early, I found her in our computer room Skyping some man halfway around the country. Not only that, but she was dressed up as a dominatrix, and giving dirty commands to some man who had his balls strapped into some medieval torture device.”

  Silence descended as we digested that information.

  “So… do you want a beer?” I asked him.

  He looked at me, then nodded his head. “Yeah. A beer would be fucking great.”

  Needless to say, I forgave his behavior.

  The man deserved much more than a beer.

  Chapter 11

  May the bridges I burn light the way.

  -Coffee Cup

  Lennox

  “I’m not staying with you. I’ve got a perfectly good house, with a perfectly good alarm system,” I said for the tenth time.

  Bennett narrowed his eyes at me.

  “Fine. But I want you to call me if you don’t feel safe. Call me day or night. Okay?” he ordered softly, touching the apple of my cheek with the very tips of his fingers.

  I nodded.

  I needed my meds, and I couldn’t take them with him here. Because with the ‘I have to take my meds’ explanation came a much more, ‘why do you have to take them’ explanation.

  One I didn’t want to have right then.

  “Yes, Bennett. I’ll call you if I need you,” I sighed.

  Paxton came out on the front stoop just as I was closing my front door, and I smiled, letting the door open wide to allow Cola and Paxton inside.

  “Thanks for taking care of her,” I said happily, bending down on my haunches to wrap my arms around Cola’s thick neck.

  She licked me happily, and I had to stand unless I wanted to be wearing a string of drool on my body from her excitement.

  Paxton snorted and pointed to my belly.

  I grimaced as I looked down at the wet spot.

  “At least I’m not going to work!” I managed.

  He nodded. “That you aren’t. Looks like things are serious,” he said, tilting his head in the direction of Bennett’s retreating truck.

  I nodded, then grimaced.

  “Yeah, I guess,” I hesitated. “I really like him. But you know how I am with guys. I don’t want to become dependent on him.”

  Paxton waited for me to continue, but when I didn’t, he shook his head.

  “Lennie,” he said, scooting closer to me and drawing me into a hug. “There’s no reason on this earth that you shouldn’t pursue this. So you’ve had a few bad turns. That’s no reason to write off every man. Especially that man.”

  I could hear the complete truthfulness in his voice and knew he was right.

  That still didn’t erase nearly ten years of bad dates, and sleepless nights of crying that I’d done over men just like him.

  “You could be right,” I admitted. “But I’m not ready to go any further than what I’m doing right now. I’ll stay the odd night with him, but I’m not giving him all of me until I’m certain that he’ll take care of it.”

  We both knew I was talking about my heart.

  It was a fragile thing.

  Full of cracks, chips, and breaks that’d been pasted back together by sheer stubbornness and pure determination not to become a simpering whiner who couldn’t function without a man.

  I knew there was something different about Bennett. However, I also knew that it’d probably be all the harder for him to bust through my shields to what was underneath.

  I wanted to be worth a man’s effort.

  And if Bennett was the one, he’d be able to break through those shields.

  I was already halfway in love with the man, but my protective instincts always had a way of freezing me in my tracks before I took that final leap.

  “So you’re seeing him again,” Paxton stated.

  And it was a statement.

  He knew I was going to see him again.

  It wasn’t a matter of if, it was
a matter of when.

  “Yeah, this Saturday. They’re having an Easter egg hunt at the place where I stayed last night. The Free compound out off of Highway 42. Have you heard of it?” I asked, moseying into my kitchen to make myself a sandwich.

  Dinner had been hours ago, and I was fairly sure I was wasting away.

  Or at least my stomach thought that.

  “I’ve seen it. Not really heard of it, though. Make me one,” he instructed as he took a seat at my bar and started flipping through my mail.

  Paxton had a problem.

  He couldn’t keep still without fiddling with something. Whether it be doodling on a piece of paper, flipping a pen around his fingers, or chewing his fingernails.

  He always had to have his hands busy.

  Which was why he’d found the bill for my new meds, and winced.

  “Oooouch.” He shuddered. “This the new stuff?”

  I nodded. “Yep.”

  While I was in the fridge, I went ahead and got my meds that I took before bedtime.

  “My numbers are perfect, though. Although they got a little out of whack last night because I didn’t take them,” I told him, removing the vial and walking over to the counter.

  I’d had to have my dad bring me my meds at lunch today, and he’d done so with only a tiny bit of annoyance.

  It helped that I’d been sopping wet thanks to that whore, Joslin.

  He’d only handed the stuff over and left, not wanting to deal with my mood.

  Paxton watched as I drew up my insulin, then injected it into my stomach.

  It was like breathing to me, now.

  It was something that I had to do, and I did no matter what.

  It was a part of me, and I’d never have a day in my life that I didn’t have to inject myself with insulin.

  I was type one diabetic and had been doing it since I was two years of age.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve brought it to you,” he said, chastising me gently.

  I shrugged. “I’d taken it right before I went over there, and I knew I’d be able to take my morning meds once I got my dad to bring them to me. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  Except Dad had been late, and I hadn’t noticed.

  “You’ll have to tell him if you plan to spend any amount of time with him,” he surmised, knowing exactly why I hadn’t taken my meds last night.

  I wrinkled my nose up at him.

  “That’s—”

  He interrupted me before I could voice my lie.

  “It’s not a disease that you’re dying from. It’s diabetes. And not even one that was caused by your diet or lack of exercise. It’s genetic. Something that you were born with,” Paxton said in exasperation.

  I stuck my tongue out at him.

  “He’ll know eventually if I deem it necessary,” I hedged.

  Paxton sighed.

  “He’s going to think you have a drug problem if you wait too long. If you spend more than three or four hours with him during the day, he’ll see you having to go to the bathroom. And insulin has to be refrigerated. You can’t just keep it all in your cooler and expect him not to notice it,” Paxton laughed.

  I flipped him off and went back to my sandwich.

  In fact, that’d been exactly what I’d had planned this morning, but in my haste to get over to Bennett’s, I’d completely forgotten my meds.

  It really wasn’t that big of a secret, either. It was just something that I’d found, over time, that men weren’t very comfortable with.

  They didn’t like that I was restricted to what I was allowed to eat. They also didn’t like that they couldn’t take me out to eat without me having to order something specially made that would allow me the carbohydrates I needed to keep my blood sugar from elevating or plummeting.

  It was all a delicate process, one I’d learned to get used to over time.

  And one that most men saw as a severe weakness, and over time, one that they didn’t really feel like handling since they didn’t have to.

  I was that ‘defective girl.’

  At least, that’s what my boyfriend who I’d been stood up for prom had said by way of explanation as to why he was standing me up.

  “He’s not Reggie. Bennett’s Bennett,” Paxton said softly.

  I glared at him as I tossed the sandwich I’d made down in front of him.

  Then picked up my own and bit into it viciously.

  “I know that!” I said around a mouthful of food.

  He grinned. “Do you?”

  I nodded.

  “Then act like it.”

  Chapter 12

  Dogs. Because sometimes talking to a man about your problem is too much effort when you have to tell them why they’re stupid in the middle of said explanation.

  -Fact of life

  Bennett

  “Daddy, are we going to see Lennox today?” Reagan asked as I walked her across the crosswalk with my sister in the lead, and me behind her.

  “I don’t know, baby. I hope so,” I said softly, circling my hand around her long ponytail and letting the length work through my fingers.

  She smiled up at me. “I like her.”

  I smiled back at her, heart warmed by my girl. “I know you do, baby girl. We’ll definitely see her tomorrow, though. She promised.”

  Reagan grinned and squeaked when Gabe and Ember’s, another couple that lived at the Free compound, son, Luca, kicked a rock at the back of Reagan’s feet.

  She whirled around and threw an accusing insult his way. “Stop it, you lecher.”

  I snorted. “Lecher?”

  She nodded solemnly. “Yeah, Aunt Payton used it this morning with Uncle Max when Uncle Max wouldn’t stop putting his hands…”

  I slapped my hand over Reagan’s mouth. “Baby, this is one of those times when you don’t repeat what you saw, okay?”

  Reagan grinned. “Yes, Daddy.”

  It’d been three long days since I’d seen Lennox and a day and a half since I’d spoken with her on the phone.

  She’d, of course, texted me back when I texted her, but it was as if she were taking a step back after that night I’d gone with her to dinner at her parent’s house.

  Something I allowed her to do because I knew she needed it.

  “I really want her to come to one of my softball games,” Reagan said excitedly. “I think she’ll bring me good luck.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  People coming to her games brought her ‘good luck.’

  Too bad Lennox wasn’t here to listen.

  “Let’s go, slowpokes!” Payton yelled loudly from the front of the line.

  I smiled down at Reagan, kissed her cheek, and then tugged her ponytail. “Be good, baby girl. And make sure you’re ready to go at five, as soon as I get there, okay?”

  Reagan smiled, then gave me a thumbs up before she disappeared around the corner.

  My walk back to my cruiser was unhurried and became even slower when my phone started to vibrate in my pocket.

  “Hello?” I answered the call without looking at it.

  “I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but I don’t like it,” a voice from my past hissed.

  I blinked.

  Then blinked again before coming to a halt.

  “Who is this?” I asked sharply.

  The woman on the other end of the line hissed, and it was in that moment that I realized who it was.

  Corrinne.

  I’d spoken to her about ten times over the span of Reagan’s life, and although it still sounded faintly like her, it definitely didn’t sound like she was seventeen anymore.

  She sounded like an old woman who smoked two packs a day.

  “It’s the mother of your child. The one you said wouldn’t owe you a fuckin’ dime, but then I get a letter in the mail that says I owe over twenty thousand dollars in back child support. Support for a child who was most definitely supposed to
be solely yours,” Corrinne hissed. “Or, at least, that was what I’d been led to believe, you lying bastard.”

  My eyebrows raised as I said, “I didn’t ask for any of your money, Corrinne. In fact, I’ll give them a call in the morning and tell them I refuse it.”

  Corrinne growled. “Yeah, you’ll do it right now. They took that money out of my checking account, and I don’t need Buck screaming at me about our money being gone. I need that money today. Now. So call right now.”

  I barely contained the urge to pull my hair out.

  Just two minutes on the phone with that woman had a headache screaming at the back of my temples.

  “I’ll call in the morning because I’m at work right now,” I said.

  “Benny…”

  When she started to protest, I cut her off.

  “It’s Bennett. And the answer is still no. I’ll deal with it in the morning,” I said stiffly.

  Corrinne growled. “Fine. Then I guess that, just maybe, I should try to see this kid of mine since I’m going to pay for it.”

  With that, she hung up, and I nearly crushed my phone in my hand.

  Yanking open my car door, I dropped down into it and slammed the door.

  “Fucking bitch!” I bellowed.

  Michael gave me a surprised look.

  “What’s going on, buddy?” Michael asked.

  I glared at him.

  “I don’t want to fuckin’ talk about it.”

  ***

  Three hours later

  “What the fuck crawled up your ass?” my sister asked as she stood next to me at the fence.

  I didn’t look at her.

  If I did, I just might yell at her, and she didn’t deserve that.

  The ref, however, did.

  “That was in the strike zone, you moron!” I yelled.

  I mean, even I could see that it was!

  What the fuck was he watching? The lightning bugs? The grass grow? Because it sure as fuck wasn’t the pitching.

  I felt rather than heard Payton walk away when I didn’t answer her.

  It was a good thing.

  I was in a very, very bad mood.

  After a very long conversation with my lawyer, I found that one single slip of paperwork had slipped through the cracks. That one single piece of paperwork being the one that signed complete custody of Reagan over to me.

 

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