CHAPTER TEN

Garret

“Shut up, Brody. My dance moves did not scare her off.” I slap my brother on the back of his head, but he just chuckles and skirts around the kitchen island. Hanging out at my place after a work shift, I’m trying to get Brody's opinion on what I did wrong with Nacole, but the fucker can’t stop giving me shit. He’s about to get his ass kicked if he doesn’t watch it.

“Chill out, bro. I’m just messing with you. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“Brody….”

“But really, man. Two weeks since the concert and you’ve barely spoken to her. Yep, definitely your dance moves. Fo sho.” Brody ducks when I take a swing at his head and laughs again, stepping onto my back porch with a beer in hand. Groaning, I grab my own and head out after him.

“What are you, fucking fifteen? And who the hell even says ‘fo sho’ anymore?”

“Your amazing brother does, obviously.” He folds over in a bow and I roll my eyes.

“Well, amazing brother, tell me. How awesome would it have felt if Lindsey stiffed you the first time y’all went out?”

Brody’s eyes narrow at me as he takes a pull from the bottle. “Screw off, man.”

“Exactly. It would've sucked. So either shut the hell up or help me, because at this point, I’m ready to throw her a bone and get down on my knees.”

Brody chokes on his beer with laughter, and I think back on my words. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, man. Grow the fuck up.”

Turning on my heel, I go back inside while I finish my beer, heading right for the fridge to grab another. When I shut the door, my brother is behind me.

“Sorry. I’m being a dick, and that’s not fair. I had to fight for Linds, in more than one way, and I can’t imagine her not being by my side. I’m sorry. I wish I could help, or had some insight into Nacole, but if I’m being honest, even though she’s worked for me the past couple months, I know boo about her.”

“Yeah, I know, man. I just don’t get what happened. I like her, and I thought maybe we could’ve been good together. I’ve spent the last decade on my career, working my ass off to make something of myself, and now I’m a month away from the detective’s exam. I don’t know. Maybe I’m pathetic, but I really like her.”

“So call her. Pretty simple thing to do, if you ask me.”

“Yeah, maybe. Now let’s go fire up the Xbox so I can kick your ass in Call of Duty.”

Brody finishes his beer and drops it in the trash. “You’re on.”

I follow him into the living room, his words ringing loudly in my head. I’ve spent weeks just letting her slip through my fingers, not that I have any control over it. If she doesn’t like me, she doesn’t. I’m a thirty-three-year-old man, not a teenager who can’t handle rejection. But I also need to grow a set and find out once and for all.

§

“Nashville PD. Open up!” Slamming my fist against the door, I lean toward it, trying to hear any commotion inside. Jace stands next to me, trying to look in one of the windows. We received the call only a few minutes ago for a reported domestic disturbance, but the apartment is silent, and nobody is answering.

“What do you think?” Jace asks, and I shrug, leaning my ear against the door. The sound of something crashing perks us both up, and I resume my pounding on the door. A woman cries out, and I jump into action. Stepping back, I don’t waste a second before I kick the door in, the thin wood cracking open easily. Keeping a hand on top of my secured gun, I head straight for the commotion, shouting to announce our presence.

A young man is in the tiny kitchen, his hand wrapped around a woman’s neck, her face littered with cuts and bruises. Jace shoves past and grabs him, wrestling him down to the ground. Helping the woman out of the area, I radio for them to roll an ambulance and have her sit on the couch. She’s crying and frantically trying to pull her ripped shirt over her body.

“Ma’am, I’m Officer Walker. What's your name?”

“I’m… I’m Alison Grady.”

“Miss Grady, can you tell me what happened?”

She looks over her shoulder as Jace hauls the man from the apartment, reading him his rights as they go.

“He’s my boyfriend, Lance. I don’t know why he was so mad.” She buries her face in her hands and I gently pat her on the shoulder as I kneel in front of her. She tearfully gives me the rest of her statement, and I fight not to blow my cool the entire while. I hate nothing more than pieces of shit who beat on women. Scum of the earth. I’m glad Jace got to him first.

The paramedics arrive a few minutes later, and I step aside while they check her out. Helping her out to the ambulance, I tell her Jace and I will be by later to check on her. With a tearful smile, she reaches up and hugs me hard.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“Only doing my job, ma’am.”

Tucking my notepad in my pocket, I head over to the squad car where Jace is waiting, the piece of shit cuffed in the back seat.

“She okay?” Jace asks, and I shrug, tapping the roof of the car.

“She will be. Let’s get him to the station.”

“Roger that.”

Moving around the hood of the car, I climb into the passenger side and Jace cranks the engine. The ambulance pulls out ahead of us and we make the drive downtown in silence.

When we arrive fifteen minutes later, Jace goes around back and grabs the perp, leading him inside. I follow after, and as I’m stepping into the bullpen, my phone vibrates with a text.

Nacole: Hey. Are you busy this weekend?

Garret: Well hey, stranger.

Nacole: Sorry, been super busy with work.

Garret: I’m supposed to help my dad this weekend. Why?

Nacole: Well, I have some free time and I was hoping we could talk.

Garret: I’m free tonight.

Nacole: I can’t.

Garret: Big plans.

Nacole: Garret, this weekend. I need to go.

Garret: Fine.

Locking my phone, I shove it back in my pocket and head over to my desk, mulling over the last thirty seconds. Nacole seemed testy in those messages, and if she needs to talk to me so badly, why can't she do it tonight? I’ve been strung along since before the concert. Or have I?

Maybe she really only wanted to be friends all along. Maybe I pushed her.

Fuck.

I don’t care. I’m done waiting around for her to keep doing circles around me. I need answers, and I sure as fuck am not waiting four days. No, we’re talking.

Tonight.

Decision made, I begin the necessary paperwork for the arrest, making a note to let Jace know I told the woman that we would check in on her later tonight. Blowing out a deep breath, I focus on the job at hand. And knowing that tonight I’ll hopefully have the answers I need, I find it easy to get it done.

§

“Hey, bro, got a quick question?” Climbing into my Jeep, I tuck my phone against my ear as I talk to my brother.

“What’s up, man?” Brody asks. I can hear the loud noise of the bar in the background.

“Is she working tonight?”

“Who, Linds? Nah, she’s on shift at—"

“Brody….”

“Chill, Garret. No, Nacole isn’t working tonight. Requested the rest of the week off, as a matter of fact. Why?”

“No reason. Thanks, little bro.”

“Go get her, tiger.”

Tossing my phone in the cup holder, I crank the engine, laughing when Blake Shelton blasts through the radio. I take off, heading for Nacole’s place. I know I should call her first, but I don’t want to give her an opportunity to run from me.

The drive doesn’t take long, and before I know it, I’m turning into her driveway. Killing the ignition, I pull the keys out and climb down from my vehicle.

Shoving my keys in my pocket, I stride up her walkway and onto her front porch. Taking a deep breath, I reach out and push the doorbell, my hands in my back pockets as I rock on my heels. After a few moments, I reach out to knock on the door when it’s yanked open, revealing a shocked and disheveled Nacole.

“Garret?”

Her eyes and nose are red, hair down in a tangled mess. She looks like she’s been crying, and when she folds her arms over her chest, I see a tissue in one of her hands.

“Hey, Brody said you weren’t working tonight, and you said you wanted to talk.”

“I said this weekend, Garret. I told you no for tonight. What do you want from me?” Her voice is shaky. I motion to come inside, and without looking me in the eye, she waves me in, huffing out a breath in annoyance.

“I’m sorry, but you’ve just been so distant lately, and I’ve been worried about you.”

“Well, clearly I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you look wonderful,” I snap, and her eyes widen, filling with tears at the harshness of my voice. She drops her head and buries her face in her hands, shoulders shaking while she cries. I’m half tempted to search the room for cameras, someone waiting to shout, "Gotcha!"

“Nacole—”

“Please, Garret. Just leave me be. Today isn’t a good day.”

“Yeah, sorry to say, but that isn’t happening. There is no way I’m leaving you this upset. Please talk to me. I hate seeing you like this.”

Nacole takes a couple deep breaths and wipes her tears, trying to get control of herself. My hands itch to reach out and hold her, but she doesn’t seem to want that.

“Today is my mom’s birthday.”

“Okay.”

“She died in January. This is her first one since.”

“Shit.”

Nacole tries to put on a brave face, but I can see the pain etched in every muscle. Tears cascade down her cheeks as her bottom lip trembles.

“Come here,” I say, holding my arms out, and she walks straight into my embrace, face buried in my sweatshirt as she cries. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” I mumble, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I miss her so much,” she whispers.

I walk us backward until we sit on the couch, and she turns so she can wrap her arms around my neck. Rubbing my hands up and down her back, I gently run my fingers through her soft hair. After a few minutes, I pull back and brush her tears away, placing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do, okay?”

Nacole gives me a questioning look, and I give her a small smile.

“I’m gonna go in the kitchen and make you something for dinner. Then you’re gonna tell me all about your beautiful mother, and you can either cry or not cry, but I’m gonna be here for you no matter what, okay?”

“How do you know my mom was beautiful?”

“Do you look like her?” I ask.

“Yeah, I look almost exactly like her.”

“Then that makes her the second most beautiful woman in the entire world. Only second to her daughter, that is.”

Nacole bites her bottom lip and then nods, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Thank you, Garret.”

“Of course. I’m always here.”

Squeezing her hand, I stand from the couch and head into her kitchen, searching the cabinets to find something to make for dinner. I’m pulling a box of pancake mix from the cabinet when I turn and find her standing in the doorway, a small smile on her face. Giving her a wink, I turn back around and busy myself with taking care of my girl.

Wait. My girl?

Shit. I’m screwed.