Fucking Ross. Taking over my girl’s dreams, scaring her. Yeah, I know it’s not voodoo. He isn’t doing this. Octavia’s mind is.

Still. Ross is a goddamn bully, and I got this thing against bullies. They’re psychopaths. They’re incurable. Fucking unforgivable. All the tearjerker stories you can tell me about Ross’s father, about his bad childhood and the reasons why, I can’t forget he hurt my girl.

But it looks like I’ll have to push my anger to the backburner for now. After all, we’re only gonna pick Ross up, drive him home, and be on our way. No forgiving and no bonding will take place, not if I have anything to say about it.

End Octavia’s nightmares and get home. That’s the plan.

Meanwhile, though, I check on Evan, and take Melissa to some neighbor friends of hers to play. I leave her there and drive on.

To the police station in the next town over.

Evan says he’ll move away, but hasn’t said when, or where he’s thinking of going, so I need to ask some questions about Jasper.

And okay, also about Ross.

I park my pickup on the street and march into the station, not sure who to ask, and itching to call Octavia, and then my kids, to make sure everyone’s okay.

They are, I tell myself.

Take a breath. Do what you came here to do. Then go.

I walk into the front office determined to be quick. Just fire off a few questions, tell someone my concerns, maybe, if possible, see about getting a restraining order where Evan is concerned, and see if the cops could keep an eye on Jasper’s Garage, make sure he isn’t mistreating his other employees.

Or his son.

No, not going there. This is just Octavia’s weird nightmare fears rubbing off on me. I mean, I love my girl, but pregnancy hormones… yeah, not going there. Fucking alien things.

Right.

A super-serious-looking cop is sitting behind a computer screen at a desk as I enter, and I make a beeline for him. I’m opening my mouth to ask who I should talk to, when someone calls out my name.

“Matt? Matt Hansen?”

I turn to face a tall, Hispanic-looking guy, his dark hair cropped close to his scalp, formally dressed in pressed pants, shirt and tie. He looks familiar, but my mind goes blank for a second.

“I can’t believe my eyes.” He grabs my hand and shakes it, beaming, his grin blinding white. “What are you doing here?”

“John,” I say slowly. “John Elba.” The detective in charge of the case of the insane motherfucker who went after my kids and Octavia two years ago. “Didn’t know you were still in town.”

“Me? I’m always here. You’re the one who left.”

“You blame me?”

“Not at all.” He steps back, stares at me. “Holy shit.”

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

“Shut up. It’s not every day you stand in the presence of a happy ending, a good ending to an ugly tale. Let’s go, I’m buying coffee.”

“You’re nuts.” But now I’m grinning, too. Sure, John Elba is tied to some of my fucking worst memories in this world, but he’s right. It was a happy ending, and he was part of it. He was there, he helped, and hey, he’s police. Just the sort of guy I came to see. “Lead the way.”

* * *

“So is life kinder to you these days?” he asks over a cup of bitter, godawful coffee. “Everything going your way over in St. Louis?”

“It’s been okay,” I concede, pushing my coffee away, and then have to correct myself, because I feel I owe this guy the truth. “It’s been great.”

“You and Octavia are still going strong?”

“We got married. Got a kid on the way.” I can’t stop a grin from spreading on my face. “It’s good, man.”

“Rumor has it you opened your own garage.”

“Rumor, huh?”

“Evan told me. I ran into him the other day.” He sighs, pushes away his mug. “This coffee sucks. No idea why I keep coming back here.”

“Because it’s right next to the station?”

He grins at me. “Right.”

“You heard about Evan’s accident?”

“Sure did.”

“Then maybe you also heard the rumors about Jasper Jones?”

He nods, his grin slipping. “He’s been getting worse. He always was a jackass. You could see it in the way he treated everybody, including his own wife. No wonder she split soon after Ross was born.”

“She skipped town?”

“Oh yeah, and left no return address. Can’t really blame her, though I felt for Ross back then. Stuck with a father like Jasper, and no other family, everyone avoiding them because Jasper was such an ass… that can’t have been easy.”

You don’t say? I scowl, pissed that I feel a twinge of sympathy for Ross. “Yeah, well, Jasper had three more kids in town and never lifted a finger to help them. Worse still, he let Ross pick on them every chance he got. Life for Octavia’s family wasn’t easy, either.”

“Never said it was.” John shoots me a curious look. “Why are you here, Matt? Is something wrong?”

“What?” I’m so caught up in my unease and confused anger, it takes me a moment to remember that yes, I came here for a reason. “Oh right. Here’s the thing: I’m back in town with Octavia to help Evan out until he gets his feet under him. And Jasper showed up yesterday with two of his thugs, making threats.”

“That where you got that black eye?”

I shrug. “You don’t need to know that.”

“You’re right. I don’t.” He sighs. “You think he’d have had his men beat Evan up if you hadn’t been there?”

“I dunno. What I know is that he told Evan he’s not allowed to leave town or quit his job at the garage. Why would he need his thugs to deliver a threat?”

“For intimidation purposes?” John heaves a disgusted sigh. “That bastard, I swear… God knows how many calls we got to go break up a bloody fight between him and one of his mechanics. Every single time I was glad you moved away from that place.”

I nod, mulling all this over. “Well, I came to ask you to keep an eye on Jasper. Make sure he doesn’t get anywhere near Evan again. Can he get a restraining order?”

“He’d have to file it himself,” John says, leaning back in his chair. “You really think Jasper would go after Evan for quitting?”

“Finding good mechanics around here is hard, and if he’s losing men at a steady pace…”

“Yeah, I see your point. Dammit.”

My mouth twists in a wry grin. I wouldn’t want to be in John’s polished shoes. I’m not even sure he can protect Evan. Hell, he couldn’t protect my family when that son of a bitch Jeff Adams went after them.

Speaking of whom… “What about Adams?”

John winces as if the name physically stings. I know exactly how he feels. “Locked up.”

“And his family? Is anyone related to him around?”

“Not at all. Why are you asking me this?” His eyes narrow. “Anything I should know about?”

“Nah, I dunno.” I rake my hand through my hair. “He’s a psycho. Such things run in families.”

“I doubt that.”

“But you’re not sure.”

“Matt. Stop that.”

“Look, I still fucking panic when Octavia or my kids are not in my immediate line of sight. Asking if the guy who kidnapped and tried to kill them is behind bars is within my rights.”

“I know. He’s staying in prison until he rots. You got nothing to worry about, okay?” He places a hand over his heart, his dark eyes serious. “He, his sister, and anyone who has ever known him won’t take a shit without me knowing, and I swear you’ll be the first to know if they move your way. I got your back, man.”

I look away, so fucking touched I’m at a loss for words. “Thanks, Johnny,” I choke out. “I appreciate that.”

“It’s Detective Elba to you,” he mutters, and snickers when I turn to glare at him. “I should be getting back to work. I’ll talk to Evan, see if he wants to file a restraining order against Jasper Jones.”

I push my chair back to get up. “One last thing. What about Ross?”

“What about him? He was in prison, last I heard.”

“Is he dangerous?”

John freezes, half-out of his plastic chair, brows lifted. “Dangerous? Mind clarifying that for me? Dangerous in what way?” He sinks back down. “He’s an asshole. A bully. He likes shoving people’s faces into the dirt and pick fights for no good reason.”

“I see.” Same old Ross. Nothing’s changed.

“However, he’s never hit a woman, as far as I know. Why the sudden interest?”

“He’s getting released from prison tomorrow morning, and we’re gonna pick him up. Octavia… she wants to talk to him.”

“About?”

“Yeah, good question. She’s got this idea that he’s… good, I guess, underneath the asshole exterior. And that he needs her help. She’s been having nightmares about him dying.”

John doesn’t bat an eye at this, which reminds me why I respect the hell out of him. “I see why you’re concerned. I doubt Ross will hurt Octavia, not physically anyway. If she thinks she can take the usual verbal abuse he likes to dish out, then you should be safe.”

Right. But that means Octavia is wrong. “So he hasn’t changed at all over the years since we left Destiny?”

“Hard for me to say. He’s drinking more. Seems to be following right in his old man’s footsteps.”

Damn. “I’ll talk to Octavia again, convince her not to go get him tomorrow, to forget about him.”

“However…” John stands up, straightens his tie. He seems to like the word. “What if she’s right?”

“Come again?” I squint up at him. He’s outlined in the light coming through the diner windows, like an apparition, or an angel. “What do you mean?”

“Just this: you never know what’s in someone’s heart,” he says, ruining his wise-man act, and winks at me before walking out.

Is he for real?