Cop Tales an Anthology for a Cause

by T. R. Cupak

  I reach for her hand after we exit the patrol car. It’s my way of letting her know I’m here for her, and that she’s not alone. But I’ve gotta say, I love how her small, dainty hand feels wrapped in mine. Is it wrong that I’m constantly looking for ways to touch her? I’m not totally insensitive; I know she’s not ready for anything serious, and my intentions are completely honourable. But I’d love to have the chance one day to show her how she’s supposed to be treated.

  “I’m not going to have to see him?” she asks as soon as Matt leaves after seating us in one of the interview rooms.

  “No. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “Thank you,” she says, giving me a half-hearted smile. I hate that she has to go through this, but it’s necessary.

  She can’t seem to sit still in her seat, and the longer we wait, the more agitated she becomes. “I’m going to see what’s taking so long.” I stand. The sooner I can get her out of here, the better.

  “Don’t leave me here alone. Can I come with you?” The vulnerability I see in her eyes hits me straight in the chest.

  “Sure.”

  We only make it into the hall when we are approached. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I was just going over the evidence you brought with you.” His gaze moves to Morgan, giving her a sympathetic look.

  “That’s fine,” I say.

  “Oh, sorry… I’m Sebastian, the police prosecutor.”

  “I’m Ryan, and this is Morgan.”

  After shaking both our hands, he gestures toward the room we just came from. “Shall we?”

  He places the folder he was carrying down on the table. “Mr Henderson is a bit of character,” he says. “A Jekyll and Hyde. I sat in on his interview earlier. He came across very cool, calm and collected—a real charmer.”

  “He’s far from charming,” I retort, annoyed.

  “That’s what I mean. Just watching him during the interview, you’d never guess he has a rap sheet as long as my arm. I’ve been in this job for a long time. As you know,” he says, focusing his attention on me, “you can usually see through the lies, or at the very least, the body language doesn’t quite match up with what they’re saying. If I didn’t know any better you’d think we had the wrong guy.”

  “He’s a master manipulator,” Morgan says.

  “I’ve worked that one out. Sometimes the psychotic ones can be the most calculating. You did the right thing by getting away from him. He’s bad news. He had his first brush with the law when he was only fourteen years old. He spent a year in juvenile detention for stabbing his younger brother with a pair of scissors while he slept.”

  “Jesus,” I say, and I notice Morgan doesn’t respond, but the colour drains from her face. I reach for her hand under the table. “So, where do we go from here?”

  “He’ll stay in the cells for another night, and will face the magistrate first thing in the morning. I’m hoping to get bail denied, but depending on the judge we get, it could go either way.” I know that story all too well. “I’ll also be requesting a temporary domestic violence order effective immediately, just until we can get something more permanent in place.”

  “What does that mean?” Morgan asks.

  “It means he won’t be able contact or come near you,” I say. But at the end of the day, it’s only a piece of paper, it’s no guarantee. I don’t tell her that part though. Hopefully he gets locked up and for the interim, there’ll be no cause to worry.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Morgan

  It’s just after 1 a.m. when our plane lands at Williamstown airport in Newcastle. It’s been a very long day for us both, and I’m pretty sure Ryan is just as exhausted as I am.

  We walk in silence towards the parking bay. I’m too tired to even talk.

  He stops at the pay machine, pulling the ticket out of his pocket and inserting it.

  “Let me pay for the parking,” I plead, reaching for my backpack that is slung over his shoulder. He insisted on carrying both our bags when we disembarked the plane. I’m not used to his thoughtfulness. Sure, I’ve had other boyfriends before Wade came into my life, but they were nothing serious. Wade was the first person I actually lived with, and quite possibly the last. “You haven’t let me pay for anything today.”

  “I can claim it all through work.”

  “Even the food you refused to let me pay for earlier?”

  He chuckles at my response. “No, that comes out of my own pocket.”

  “Ryan, I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I’m not a freeloader. I’ve always paid my own way in life.”

  “I know,” he says, reaching for the parking ticket and receipt once the machine spits them back out. “Come, let’s get you home. You need some sleep.”

  Home? “I don’t have a home,” I remind him.

  “You have a home in Paterson. Mum said you’re welcome to stay with her for as long as you want, until you find something more permanent.” He drapes his arm over my shoulder, tucking me neatly into his side as we head to his car. It’s a simple gesture, but I love when he does things like that. This will probably sound pathetic, but he makes me feel special. “There’s also a spare room at my place that you’re welcome to use.”

  “That’s really sweet, but I’ve disrupted your life enough.”

  “I feel like you’ve enriched my life more than disrupted it,” he says.

  I look up at him and see a touch of hurt in his eyes. It makes me feel bad. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt him.

  “Thank you,” I say when he opens the passenger side door for me.

  “You’re welcome.” He gives me one of his beautiful smiles before closing my door.

  I swear he has the kind of smile that could melt your panties right off. He’s not only sinfully good-looking, but kind, loyal, and hard working—all the attributes I’d want in a man. It makes me wonder why he’s single. My eyes follow him as he walks around the front of the car, before climbing into the driver’s side.

  He’s watching me intently as he pulls his seatbelt over his shoulder, so my gaze moves down to my lap. I don’t want to see his reaction when I say this. “It’s probably just best for everyone if I move on, Ryan.”

  “Move on to where, Morgan?”

  “My original plan, Tasmania, I guess,” I say with a shrug. In my heart I already know that I’ll never find the happiness I’ve found since being here.

  “What’s waiting for you in Tasmania?”

  “A fresh start.”

  “You can get a fresh start anywhere. You can have a fresh start in Paterson.”

  “The further away I am from my old life, the better.”

  I still can’t bring myself to look at him. I know if I do, it will be my undoing. I’m fighting so hard to leave, when my heart is screaming for me to stay.

  “Your old life is always going to be a part of you, no matter where you are. Memories are one thing you can’t run from. Trust me, I know.”

  I exhale a large breath because I know he’s right.

  “Look at me, Morgan,” he says, placing his finger under my chin and turning my face to meet his. His touch is just as gentle as it was the first day we met. “Stay.” There’s a pleading look in his beautiful blue eyes as they lock with mine. “Please. I don’t want you to leave. I know we’ve only known each other a few days, but I honestly do care about what happens to you.”

  Tears sting my eyes because my self-loathing won’t let me believe I’m worthy of someone as beautiful and as kind as him.

  “I’m not your responsibility, Ryan.”

  “I know that. I want to keep you safe, but that’s not the only reason I want you to stay. I like having you around.”

  “I like having you around too,” I admit.

  “Then don’t go. You have a place to stay, a job if you want it, friends. You have nothing in Tasmania except the bitter cold. I’ve heard it’s freezing down there.”

  His words make me laugh. “I’m really not a fan of the cold weat
her.”

  I see the corners of his lips turn up into a smile. “It snows in Tasmania too. I can’t believe you’d consider a place like that over the beautiful sunny countryside.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, Officer Mitchell.”

  “What can I say, Miss Abraham. I’ll stoop to any level to get what I want, and what I want is for you to stay.”

  “Do I really have a choice? If I say no, you’re liable to fabricate more issues with my car so you can slap another defect on it.”

  He throws back his head and laughs. “In my defence, your tyres were bald, but I reckon if I look hard enough, I’m bound to find more problems.”

  Reaching across the centre console, I playfully slap his leg. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Try me,” he says, but I can hear the humour in his voice. He places the key in the ignition, starting the engine. “So, it’s settled, you’re staying right?”

  “I guess I am.”

  “Good.”

  I’m pretty sure the smile on his face matches mine as he reaches for my hand, interlocking our fingers together. He usually holds my hand for comfort or reassurance, but this time it’s different—more intimate. It makes my stomach do a flip-flop. I don’t know where things are going between us, but I’m actually excited at the prospect of sticking around to find out. I’m not ready to jump into another relationship—I need to heal from my last one first—but in time, I hope something can become of this.

  Although I’d never want to relive my time with Wade, in a strange way he did me a favour. Without his actions, I never would’ve ended up in this town, and I never would’ve found my saviour, and what I hope may one day lead me to my happily ever after.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Morgan

  Three months later …

  “What’s going on between you two?” Sally asks, the moment Ryan leaves the café.

  “Nothing. He was just here for lunch.” She gives me an inquisitive look, like I’m hiding something.

  “Every time you have a shift, he comes in to eat. I never see him on your days off.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, trying to hide my amusement.

  “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.” She playfully pushes my arm. “Come on, spill.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.” I pick up the plate from the table where Ryan was just sitting, walking past her into the kitchen. I can hear her footsteps behind me, so I know she’s following me. I love her to death, but one thing I’ve noticed since working here is she thrives on gossip. She’s always in everybody’s business.

  My phone dings in my pocket, and my heart starts to race. Ryan is the only one who sends me messages. I really look forward to them. Staying here in Paterson is the best decision I’ve ever made. I’ve never been so happy. There’s something special blossoming between Ryan and me, but I’m not about to tell Sally that.

  I’m smiling as I pull my phone out, but become puzzled when I see it’s from an unknown number.

  I’m coming for you, bitch!

  About J.L. Perry

  This short story was written for this anthology, and even though I exceeded my allocated word count, I feel like there is still so much more of Ryan and Morgan’s story to tell. I plan on extending Saviour and releasing the full version in the near future. I hope you enjoyed my words, and if you’d like to keep up to date on any of my previous or future releases, you can follow me here.

  * * *

  I was born and have lived in Sydney, Australia for most of my life. Earlier this year decided on a tree change, buying acreage in the Hunter Valley region, wine country, where I now live with my husband and son. Paterson, where this story is set, is a picturesque little country town not far from where I’m now living.

  * * *

  I currently have ten published books, five self-published, and five novels published through publishing giants, Hachette. My last six releases have all been #1 bestsellers, and my novel, Nineteen Letters, won the 2018 Ruby Award, for Romantic Book of the Year. A number of my stories have also been translated into different languages, including French, German, Hungarian and Hebrew.

  * * *

  Readers Group

  Goodreads Jodi Perry

  BROTHER | S. Cole

  Chapter One

  Present

  “How was your day, baby?” Raven asked her husband as he walked through the front door.

  She already had a pretty good idea, considering the picture hanging beside the door of their small starter home almost fell off the wall when Beau slammed the door shut behind him.

  “It sucked,” he mumbled as he plopped down next to the brunette sitting on the couch.

  Raven tucked her hair behind her ears after placing the magazine she was reading on the coffee table in front of her.

  “Tell me about it. What happened?”

  Something about her soft, southern drawl always calmed him down. He took a deep breath and released a sigh of frustration. When he parted his lips to speak, Raven leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his cheek. She stood up from the couch.

  “Come on. You can tell me while I make you some food for dinner.” She reached out her freckled arm to her husband. She wanted to distract him from his vexation, if only for a moment. Distracting him with food and the touch of her skin. “Come sit in here at one of the bar stools and talk to me while I fix you some food.”

  An appreciative grin grew on Beau’s face. “I love you. You know that?” His blue eyes met her warm browns and just for a moment, he forgot about the terrible day he’d just had. He grabbed her hand with his own and grazed his lips across her frail fingers before standing up. She smiled briefly and turned to walk toward the kitchen, her long, brown hair cascading down her back. Beau followed her willingly and took his seat at the kitchen bar as she continued to the fridge.

  “Beer or wine, baby?” she asked.

  “Mmmm,” he sighed, “You know what? I was craving a beer, but I think I’ll take a glass of wine. I need something light after the heavy shit I had to deal with today.”

  “So that rules out pizza for dinner.” Raven turned around with two bottles, merlot in one hand and moscato in the other. “Red or white?” She lifted each bottle respectively and tilted her head as she waited for her beautiful husband to answer.

  “Red. Save the Moscato for a night when I’m not gonna eat dessert in bed.” He winked at her, his grin growing sensual.

  She giggled, and a light crimson blush formed on her cheeks.

  “Merlot it is then.” She turned and placed the moscato back in the fridge. “We’ve got some roasted chicken in here that would go well with the wine. Is that okay?” she asked over her shoulder.

  Beau ran his thick fingers through his blonde hair. “Yeah, that’ll be fine.” All sense of lightheartedness and humor had escaped his mind and his face as quickly as it had appeared.

  Raven pulled the chicken out of the refrigerator and placed it on the counter. She grabbed two stemless glasses out of a cabinet and put them down in front of Beau before uncorking the bottle and pouring a glass for her man.

  He was exhausted, and she could see pain all over his face.

  “Okay.” She scooted the glass closer to him before pouring her own. “Tell me what happened.”

  Beau grabbed the glass and brought it up to his lips, taking a small sip before telling his story. Raven waited patiently as she took a few sips of her own.

  “A kid was murdered.” Beau placed the glass down softly though he wanted to shatter it.

  “Oh no, baby, that’s terrible.” Raven’s hands trembled slightly as she put her wine glass down next to Beau’s. “How old?”

  Beau shook his head and closed his eyes. He shouldn’t have because as soon as he did, he saw the bloody scene as if he was standing in the room again. The metallic smell of blood refilled his nostrils. He quickly reopened his eyes and swallowed the bile that had begun to crawl up his throat.


  “He was fourteen . . .” Beau reluctantly grabbed the glass off the counter, needing something to do with his hands.

  The cool liquid filled his mouth and slinked down his throat, removing the stinging sensation of the vomit that had wracked his body seconds before.

  Raven stood and waited silently for Beau to continue. She knew he had more to say but knew there was no way she was going to break the silence. He would carry on when he was good and ready.

  “Liam Roberts. Shot and stabbed by his own father . . .” Beau finally looked up from watching his hands trace the lip of the glass. “. . . allegedly.” His eyes met Raven’s as he choked on the word, a single tear escaping and falling down his cheek.

  Beau didn’t have to say a word for Raven to know he was thinking about his own brother.

  Chapter Two

  Eight years ago . . .

  “You ready, Rook?” Corporal John Murphy threw his patrol bag in the back of the Crown Vic. He waited to slam the trunk shut until Beau had put his bag alongside his.

  “As ready as I’m going to be.” With bright eyes and a huge smile, Beau placed his bag in the back of the vehicle and headed toward the driver’s side door.

  “What’re you doing, Callahan?” Corporal Murphy shut the trunk and crossed his arms, watching his new trainee.

  “Getting in the car.” Beau smiled slightly.

  Murphy uncrossed his arms and wagged his finger. “First day on the job. I’m not letting you drive.” He shook his head. “No way, sir-ee. Uh uh. Not happening.”

  Disappointment must have shown all over Beau’s face. Murphy shoved past him. “Look, I know you passed that driving class in basic and all of that other shit, but you’re here now and you need to learn the roads. And you’re gonna do that from the passenger seat, so you can focus on that and that only while we’re in this car. Knowing your locations is just as important as catching the bad guys.” Standing uncomfortably close, he looked Beau straight in the eyes. “Cause if you don’t know where you’re going, how’re you gonna get there to catch ‘em?”