Sam

When I awake the next morning, Cooper’s gone, presumably to get an early start at the shooting range. He and Shane still have this ridiculous babysitting arrangement going between them. I’m so fucking tired of being treated like an invalid. Beth was right—we do have two dads. I don’t mind Cooper bossing me around in bed, but out of bed—hell no. And Shane—he might be my boss, but he’s not my daddy. I’ve really got to get my ass in gear and get back to work.

I lie here for a few minutes, thinking about last night. An actual dinner date, then a bit of mind-blowing sexy fun, followed by a shoot-’em-up, high-body-count movie. I could definitely get used to this.

After stretching and groaning like a bear coming out of hibernation, I hit the john, then throw on my workout clothes. I’ll grab a little bit to eat, some coffee, and hit the gym.

As I walk into the kitchen, Beth waves from her spot at the breakfast counter. She’s got a bowl of oatmeal in front of her, as well as her laptop.

I glance at the screen. “Doing schoolwork?”

“Yeah. I’ve got a management paper due today.”

I grab a bottle of orange juice from the fridge and pour myself a glass.

“Cooper left you a plate in the warmer,” she says, pointing.

I grab my juice and plate and sit beside her, and we eat in silence, as I don’t want to interrupt her school work.

I don’t know about her, but I’m really feeling the strain of being cooped up in the penthouse. I imagine she’s itching to get back to work, too. “Shane’s in his office?” I say.

She nods. “I overheard him telling Diane to reschedule all of his morning appointments this week because he’ll be working from home. Ugh. I’ve got cabin fever. I just want to get back to our old routine, you know? I want to be able to go out.”

“Yeah. This is getting old.”

She takes a sip of milk and looks at me pensively. “How much longer do you think it’ll be until you can get recertified for work? If you can come back to work, I’m sure Shane will let me leave the penthouse and go to Clancy’s. I miss Erin. And Mack. I miss my store.”

I lean over and kiss her cheek. “I miss them, too.”

After I finish my food, I rinse off my dishes and put them in the dishwasher. “I’m going to go work out. My leg feels good, and I think maybe I can really push myself to hit my targets today. At least I’ll give it my best shot.”

“Don’t overdo it!” she calls to me as I jog down the hallway toward the fitness room.

* * *

After a 20-minute warm up, I hit the treadmill. I take it easy the first mile, just letting my leg get reaccustomed to carrying my weight at a steady pace. The second mile, I jack up the speed a bit, and by the third mile, I increase the incline. I’m going for endurance right now. I need to rebuild my stamina to get back to peak performance.

I feel energized after yesterday. Cooper taking me out to dinner was pretty momentous for me. I know it was just a dinner, not a marriage proposal, but it signified something.

Beth joins me in the fitness center, listening to an audiobook as she walks on the treadmill beside mine, while I put myself through my paces. When I’m done, I wipe the sweat from my face with a hand towel. Then I drop down onto the mat and churn through an ungodly number of push-ups. I push myself, and then I push myself some more. I realize I’ve gotten lazy and far too complacent since the accident, almost seeing myself as an invalid. It’s way past time to get over that.

“Hey, will you come sit on my feet?” I ask Beth, after catching her attention. She shuts off the treadmill and obliges me by sitting crosslegged on my feet, clinging to my shins. This time, I actually hit my target spot on.

The next morning, I go to the shooting range with Cooper to do some serious target practice. After I squeeze off my third magazine into the paper targets suspended at the end of my shooting lane—having clearly decimated the head and chest regions of my imaginary foes—I remove my ear protection just in time to hear a low chuckle coming from behind me. I look back to see Cooper grinning at me.

He lays a warm hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Looks like you haven’t lost your edge, kid. Consider yourself recertified on weapons.”

Yes! One assessment down. Now I just have to pass the physical tests.

I grab an Uber ride back to the apartment building and head upstairs to the penthouse to put some more miles on the treadmill. When I walk through the foyer into the apartment, I see Beth seated at the breakfast bar doing her school work. 

“Hey, princess,” I say, tugging on her ponytail. “Study hard. I’ll be on the treadmill.”

She laughs. “You’re certainly in a good mood this morning.”

“I am. Cooper signed off on my weapons certification.”

“That quickly?”

I shrug. “What can I say? I have good aim. It’s like riding a bike—you never forget how.”

Shane walks into the kitchen carrying a coffee mug. “You never forget how to do what?”

“Sam got recertified on weapons this morning,” Beth says. “Now he just has to pass the physical assessment.”

Shane pours himself a fresh cup of coffee.

“That’s all?” Shane says, smirking at me.

“Hey, give me until the end of this week, and I’ll be there. I guarantee it.”

“Thank God,” Beth says. “I’m so bored staying home all the time. I want to go back to work.”

I bump Beth lightly with my hip. “Don’t worry, girlfriend, I got this.”

For the rest of the week, I train my ass off, sometimes with Beth’s helpful company, and sometimes without. I work hard all morning, and then I usually hang with Beth in the afternoon, watching movies or playing video games.

By Wednesday, I’ve got the upper body and core strength exercises mastered—the sit-ups, the push-ups, and the pull-ups. I’m still working on that run. Once I have that down, I can schedule with Liam for a physical assessment at the office.

On Thursday, Beth and I head downstairs to the building’s fitness room so I can do some serious running. With her cheering me on, I nail the run—a mile and a half in under ten minutes. My leg is finally on board again.

“Call Liam,” Beth says, handing me my phone. “If you can pass the physical assessment tomorrow, then I can go back to work on Monday.”

“You got it.” I call Liam and make the appointment to see him Friday morning. Then, the rest of Thursday morning and into the early afternoon, I run through the drills twice more, just to be sure I have the endurance to keep it up.

That evening at dinner, with the four of us seated at one end of the dining room table, I tell Cooper, “I have an appointment with Liam in the morning. I’m ready to pass my physical assessment.”

Cooper raises an eyebrow. “Really? You think you’re ready for that?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, he is,” Beth says.

Cooper’s phone chimes with an incoming call, and when he sees who’s on the line, he picks up immediately. “Jenny? What’s the news?”

“Jenny Murphy,” I whisper to Beth. “She’s the editor of The Sweetwater Gazette.”

At first, Cooper looks pensive as he listens to Jenny talk. Then his expression goes from skeptical to wary to relieved. “Really? He’s sure?” Pause. “He obtained a reliable visual sighting?” Pause. “And it’s the right vehicle?” Pause. “All right. Thank you. Please keep me posted.”

Cooper ends the call and lays his phone on the table. “I’m sure you picked up on the fact that was Jenny Murphy, from Sweetwater. She said the local authorities found Roger Stevens’ vehicle abandoned at the edge of a state forest. A local guy, an avid hunter who knows Stevens well, said he saw Roger Stevens in the woods yesterday. After a search, the feds found the remains of a campsite. They found physical evidence that Roger has been camping out in the woods for a few days.”

“If he’s still down near Sweetwater, then he can’t be in Chicago!” Beth says, grinning at me. “That means we’re no longer under house arrest.”

Shane looks far from happy when he frowns at Cooper. “But they don’t have him in custody?”

Cooper shakes his head, looking just as unhappy as Shane. “No.”

Beth looks from Cooper to Shane, and she frowns. “But someone spotted him down there, someone who knows him. Surely that’s enough evidence—”

Shane reaches for Beth’s hand and squeezes it. “Sweetheart, jumping to conclusions is a great way to get someone killed.” Then he picks up his phone and keys in a text message. “I asked Jake to meet us here.”

After we finish our meal, Cooper and Shane hole up with Jake in Shane’s office for a pow-wow. Beth and I clean up the dinner dishes. I’m feeling pretty damn good. I’m about to get the OK to go back to work, which means Beth and I can get out of the apartment. It looks like Roger Stevens’ escape from justice might have been a false alarm—maybe the guy just went on a walkabout in his own backyard, managing to avoid the authorities for the better part of a week. And I’m finally shacking up with my true love. “Hey, smile,” I say, bumping hips with Beth. “Life’s pretty damn good.”

She laughs. “Yes, it is. I can’t wait to call Erin and tell her the good news. She’ll be ecstatic.”