Sullivan (Laurel Springs Emergency Response Team Book 5)

by Laramie Briscoe

  He chuckles, picking the glasses up and taking them to my living room. We’ve eaten together enough not to have any pretenses about me sitting at the kitchen table. I always eat on the coffee table in the living room. He sets them down, along with napkins and silverware.

  “Is this enough for you?” I scoop the broccoli onto his plate.

  “Perfect.” He grins. “I’m surprised you had anything of the green variety in here.”

  “Once or twice I’ve thought about losing this extra ten pounds I’m carrying. Never got around to making that shit though.” I point to the green stems on his plate.

  “Don’t.” He grabs hold of my finger.

  “Don’t what?”

  “You’re perfect the way you are, Shelby. Don’t try to fit into someone’s asinine idea of what a woman should look like.” He reaches down, his fingers circling around my hips. “I like something to hold on to.”

  “You never answered my question.” I put my hands on his chest, wanting nothing more than to pull him closer. Instead, I settle for feeling his heart beat.

  “What question was that?”

  He tilts his head to the side, coming in for a kiss. This one is different from all the others. There’s no edge of passion and lust to it. It speaks of comfort and ease. A gentle melding of two lives. When he pulls back, I reach up, wiping the moisture off his bottom lip.

  “Did you play basketball in high school?”

  “Oh.” He tosses his head back slightly. “I did.”

  “Where you any good?”

  He lets go of my hips, putting a hand over his heart. “You wound me. How can you ask me if I was any good? I mean shouldn’t you assume I am?”

  We grab our plates, walking to the living room. “If there’s anything I’ve learned since becoming a lawyer, it’s that I shouldn’t make any kind of assumption. More times than not, it’s going to be wrong.”

  “This chicken is phenomenal. What did you marinate it in?”

  “It’s a secret. My own recipe.” I take a bite of the rice. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

  “Alright, alright. I was captain my senior year, lettered, and even went to the state championship game. We didn’t win.”

  “You still sound bummed about it.”

  “We had some shitty referees; they didn’t like us because we were from a small town. They made some shoddy calls and they cost us the game by three points.”

  A thought runs through my head, and I have to say it out loud. “I bet you had plenty of girls offering to make it better for you afterward.”

  He coughs loudly on his drink of tea. “I can’t believe you would think so low of me, Counselor.”

  “Oh give me a break.”

  We’re quiet for a few minutes as we get busy eating. It isn’t until I’m almost done and he is done that he leans back on the couch, holding his stomach, that he answers me. “It wasn’t afterward. I had to ride the bus with my teammates. It was a few hours later in my Dodge with a bench seat. Head cheerleader.”

  “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

  “Because I was captain and she was the head cheerleader?”

  I nod.

  “Shoulda listened to the other guys on the team who’d been with her. She gave sloppy head, like almost bit my dick off. I’m sitting there trying to get it out of her mouth and she’s clamped down. Worst experience of my life.”

  A snort works its way out of my nose as I imagine a high school aged Sullivan trying to get his dick out of some girl’s mouth.

  “You laugh, but I was scared to death.”

  “Of what?” I giggle.

  “I had fuckin’ teeth marks. Teeth. Marks. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to get it up again. That’s dangerous for a seventeen-year-old guy who’d only had sex three times at that point.”

  “Poor thing.”

  “Yeah, poor me. I didn’t let another girl go down on me for two years after that.”

  “You had blowjob PTSD?”

  “Fuck yeah, I did.”

  We’re both done with our meals, so I gather the plates, still giggling as I get up.

  “What are you doing, Shelby?”

  “Cleaning up our mess and then we can watch some mindless TV?”

  “Uh uh.” He shakes his head. “You cooked, I clean.”

  “I invited you, not so that you’d clean up, but so you could keep me company. I have a dishwasher.”

  “Then I’ll gladly put these in the dishwasher. You go on over there and find us something to watch.”

  Instead of following him to the kitchen, I go back to the couch and grab the remote before sitting down again. Turning on the TV, I click the correct button for Netflix, and shuffle through the shows I’ve been watching. There, hidden at the end, is the one we’ve been binging.

  It’s our little secret.

  We still have a few episodes to go and I can’t wait to see how this show ends.

  Sullivan comes back over, grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch, and lies down, holding his arms open for me. “C’mon in here. I gotta find out if Carole really killed her husband or not.”

  I giggle as I drop down beside him, snuggling up to his chest. He pulls the TV remote off the coffee table and goes to press play, but right before he does, I giggle-whisper. “Killed her husband, whacked him.”

  He laughs along with me, and as I press myself fully into his body, I let my mind imagine.

  That this is we’ll be years from now. After spending time like this with Sullivan, I can’t imagine ever letting him go.

  Chapter 17

  Sullivan

  “We were out at the Gentry’s again last night.” Ransom throws some paperwork onto my desk the next morning.

  “Did she press charges?”

  He gives me a look. “What do you think? She’s scared to death of that prick, and he fucking gets off on it.”

  “This is the part I hate about being a cop.” I pick up the papers he dropped. “You can want to help people all day long, but until they’re ready to accept it there’s not a goddamn thing you can do.”

  “I know, it’s a bitch.”

  “Is this for the auction?” I’m flipping through what looks to be a consent form.

  “Yeah, Whitney was over at the house yesterday, and apparently my job in helping with this fundraiser is doing all her paperwork delivery.”

  “I mean she does watch your kid,” I remind him.

  “She does, but she’s the grandparent. It should be her honor.”

  A laugh-sigh breaks through my mouth. “You think real highly of yourself, don’t you?”

  “Hey, if I don’t, who else will? Be sure to fill that out, stick it in my box, and I’ll take it back to her.”

  “I’ll stick it somewhere,” I mumble.

  “I heard that. You’re the one who agreed to do this.”

  “I wouldn’t say I agreed, so much as I didn’t say anything and it was taken as agreement.”

  “Ole Shelby steam-rolled you like an asphalt paver. Welcome to my world, where all the women tell me what to do and I ask no questions. Questions get you in trouble. The best thing to do is just nod and smile.”

  “Is that famous Ransom advice?”

  “It’s Ransom advice, not sure I’d call it famous. Anywho, we’re out.” He makes a noise for Rambo, who gets up immediately to follow him.

  “Be safe.” I wave after them.

  Turning my attention back to the packet of paper, I shake my head. There’s a damn questionnaire. Do people really need to know this much shit about us? I stop reading when I hear someone clear their throat over me. Glancing up, I grin. “Sis, what are you doing here?”

  I’m always excited to see Rowan, but she doesn’t visit me on the job too often.

  “Made apple pie for Cutter, and thought I’d bring you a piece.”

  My stomach growls loudly as I look down at the saran-wrapped plate she carries. “Oh my God, thank you.”

  “I
have to admit, it’s slightly to see how you’re doing too, since you haven’t answered my last three texts.”

  “I’ve been busy,” I defend.

  “With Shelby, I’m sure.”

  I can’t deny it. “We’ve been spending time together.”

  “I’m happy for you, Sully, so happy, but please remember to let me know you’re alright. I worry.”

  Standing up, I open my arms, pulling her into a tight hug. “Remember I’m older, I should be the one worrying about you.”

  “Age has nothing to do with it,” she mumbles into my chest. “I’ll always be scared when I know you’re out protecting the people of Laurel Springs.”

  “You don’t need to.”

  “But I will.”

  I let her go. “I wish I could stay here and chat, but I have to hit the street. Come see me soon?”

  She rolls her eyes. “I’m the one who showed up here, you can come see me.”

  “Sassy as always.”

  “Love you, bro.”

  “Love you too.”

  Shelby

  “Now, Mrs. Haley, I need to verify this is what you definitely want. There’s some paperwork for you to go over and sign. This basically says you are of sound mine and no one is forcing you to make these changes.”

  She leans forward, grabbing hold of the pen I’ve set down for her. Alert eyes skim the pages, before she signs her signature with a flourish.

  “How will Montana know, once I’m gone?” Her voice cracks as she asks the question.

  No one likes to think of their mortality, and given how frail Mrs. Haley is, she’s not too far from the end of her journey.

  “That’s my job. If anything happens to you, I probate the will. You don’t have to worry about it. I’ll make sure your wishes are carried out.”

  She sighs, almost with a touch of relief. “I’ve worried about this since they found the cancer. I can’t tell you how much this means to me, Shelby.”

  “It’s what I’m here for,” I remind her.

  “Either way,” - she reaches into her pocket book - “I brought something for you. I want you to know I went to five lawyer’s offices before coming to yours. None of them believed me to be of sound mind and tried to talk me out of changing my will. I know it’s because of their connections with Frank.”

  She’s given an opening I’ve always wanted to ask about. “What exactly does Frank do?”

  Her tone is weary. “He does many things. He’s on the city council, is on the board of directors at the bank, and at this moment he’s blindly running Haley Corporation into the ground. I can’t do anything about what he’s doing with the bank or city council, but I can stop him from bankrupting our family business.”

  “No one stops him?”

  “Back when my husband made his will, there wasn’t thought to give businesses to the women of the family. We didn’t have a son, so our grandson seemed like the obvious choice.” She shrugs. “But he’s grown too comfortable in his position. Instead of increasing our net worth, it’s dropping. The money I’m giving Montana is money that was put in a trust; Frank’s never been able to touch it. Which is why he’s going to be angry when he finds out I’ve willed it to her.”

  “I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with this.”

  Her eyes are defeated, like she knows this is a last-ditch effort to make things right in her life before she goes. I can’t imagine being this close to death and trying to wrap up pieces of a life I spent years creating, praying that I’m able to keep my accomplishments out of the Devil’s hands.

  “I should’ve dealt with it before now, but I wasn’t strong enough. I refuse to give him what he wants. Not after I’ve seen how Montana has suffered. She deserves better, and I can give her that. If it’s the last thing I do, she will be taken care of.”

  There’s a part of me that almost tells her it’s probably going to be the last thing. Mrs. Haley is frail, her voice husky and hoarse at the same time, and her eyes aren’t bright. They’re resigned.

  She knows this is her Hail Mary.

  “I’ll make sure all your wishes are kept, Mrs. Haley.”

  “I know you will, which is why I want to give you this.”

  I reach forward to grab what she’s holding out to me. It’s a check for ten thousand dollars. “Mrs. Haley, this is too much,” I protest, looking down at it.

  “You were the only one to believe I knew my own mind, Shelby. It’s my way of saying thank you.”

  “The words are good enough for me.”

  “Not for me.” She reaches in, covering my hand with one of hers. “I lost my husband, my daughter, and in some aspects, I’ve lost my grandson. He’s not the man he should be, and he’s never going to live up to the expectations we’ve had for him. The best I can do is take care of Montana and thank you properly for what you’ve done. Please accept this gift, Shelby. It pleases me to be able to give it to you.”

  I don’t know what to say or how to respond, so I smile. Lord knows I need the money and it’d be foolish of me not to bank this for the real hard times that may be coming up. “Thank you, Mrs. Haley. It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

  “You too.” She puts her purse in her lap. “Now that I’m sure all of this is taken care of.” She points to the papers in front of me.

  “It’ll be filed with the courthouse as soon as I leave here,” I assure her.

  “Good, good. I must let you know, I’m going into Hospice care in the morning.”

  My heart drops.

  “Oh, Mrs. Haley, I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be, you’ve given me peace of mind no one else could. It’s everything I wanted before I leave this earth. I can go with my conscience clear.”

  I’m more emotional than I should be. As she stands, I get up and go around the desk. On impulse I envelop her in a hug. She holds me back tightly.

  “If you need anything, Mrs. Haley, please let me know.”

  “I will, Shelby. Thank you for making this so easy on me.”

  I want to say more, but I’m at a loss with what words to use. What do you tell someone whose about to enter the last stages of their life?

  “Will you make sure someone tells me.” I fight back tears. “When it happens? Not because I need to know for probate reasons, but because I think of you as a friend.”

  She smiles graciously. “I sure will.”

  When she turns to leave, I don’t know what else to say. What is there to say? Walking with her to the door, I open it for her, and watch as she makes her way to her car. Mrs. Haley is the only person I know who has a driver.

  He gets out when he sees her coming. I look as he opens the door for her, escorting her inside. When he glances over at me, I give him a wave. He gives me one back, and even from where I stand, I can see the sadness in his eyes.

  Both of us know.

  She doesn’t have much time left.

  Chapter 18

  Shelby

  When I get home, I don’t see Sully’s patrol SUV, which means he’s probably still on-shift. Until right now, I didn’t realize how much I look forward to seeing him at the end of a stressful day.

  Reaching in, I grab my briefcase and drag myself up the stairs to my apartment. Going into an empty living room is not what I want to do, but it’s the life I have right now.

  It’s nights like these I wish I had the life of most of the friends I’ve made here in Laurel Springs. Everyone is married with kids, or fixing to get married.

  They’re settled.

  And I’m not.

  All the plans I had for myself seem to have never come to fruition, except being a lawyer. I love my job and I’m incredibly proud of what I’ve done, but none of my personal goals have been achieved.

  I’m not married, no kids, not even a prospect. Granted, Sully and I are getting closer, but who knows how close we’ll get. Who knows how far it’ll go – it’s just as likely we’ll burn hot and fizzle out - as is it we’ll stick it out for the long haul.
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br />   After I turn on the lights, I look around.

  Damn, I don’t want to be here.

  But what can I do? Where can I go?

  Picking up my phone, I log onto Facebook to see what the people in my old life are doing when I’m hit with a targeted ad for the bar in town. According to it, tonight’s ladies’ night, and just like that, I know exactly what I’m going to do.

  Sullivan

  “Are you gonna tell me those aren’t your pants?” I ask the teenager in cuffs as I search his jeans. I’ve already found paraphernalia, and I’m pretty sure I’ll find more.

  “Swear to you. They aren’t mine.”

  If only I had a dollar for every time someone lied about their clothes. I wouldn’t be doing this job anymore. I’d be living on some deserted island in the Caribbean.

  “The problem is they’re in your possession.”

  “Come on, man, my mom is going to kill me.”

  There are people I wish I could cut a break, then there are people who I can instantly tell will never change. I’m not sure who this kid is yet, but I do know if we take the chance to scare him now, we might be able to set him on a better path.

  “Are your parents home?” I ask, taking his wallet out of his back pocket.

  When I shake it, nothing falls out, which is good for him. I grab his ID. He’s only sixteen.

  “She’s at work,” he mumbles.

  “She work the night shift?” I was supposed to have gotten off at four, but here it is, eight and I’m still on.

  “Yeah, at the factory over in Calvert City.”

  Chances are they’re working overtime, and this kid has been left on his own while they try to get as much money as they can to make ends meet. I hate to bring trouble to their doorstep, but kids make bad choices and sometimes parents have to pay for it.

  “We’ll have someone call them when we get to the station. Put your hands behind your back like you’re praying.”

  “I don’t wanna go to jail,” he argues, tensing up.

  Truth is, I don’t wanna take him to jail, but I have no choice. There are times when what I have to do can be a fork in the road for their futures. I’m praying this one makes the right decision.