Page 15 of Salvation (Rising From the Ashes #3)

Campbell

T he Benton Falls police captain is staring at me like he could run through a brick wall—which, all things considered, he probably could. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at me with a stoic cynicism furrowing his brows and tightening his lips.

James Robert, better known as Cap, is a man worth knowing. He’s kind and fair, and he cares about this town. But he also doesn’t put up with any bull either. He’s stern when he needs to be, and from the way he’s looking at me, it’s obvious I’ve messed up. Bad.

I’ve been doing that a lot here lately, but that’s not even the problem. No, the problem is that I can’t bring myself to care.

It’s been a week since I found out I have a daughter, and since then, the numbness inside my chest has grown, the roots wrapping around my soul and taking hold until the voice inside my head screams at me to end it all.

“It’s the only way you’ll find peace,” it yells. “The only way you’ll right your wrongs—end the suffering you’ve caused others.”

And I’m tempted to listen to it, but first I have to settle this thing with our daughter. I owe Ivy that much.

“You want to explain to me what you were thinking today, Richards?”

Cap’s voice pulls me front and center. There’s more heat in it than I’ve ever heard, and I wince.

“Would you believe me if I said I tripped?” I ask, trying to joke this away, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, I wince again.

I’ve gotten so good at hiding behind my jokes that I don’t know when to stop. Nothing about today was a joke. I could’ve gotten someone killed. I wasn’t thinking. I just—lost it.

Hayes and I received a domestic violence call while we were out on patrol.

A place we’ve been called to a hundred times.

Every other time we responded to a call there, it was because the neighbors could hear yelling through the walls, but tonight it went beyond yelling.

Callie, a girl Hayes and I went to high school with, opened the door, and bruises covered her face.

She’s one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met, even though life has been hard for her.

As I took her in, tears streamed down her face, and despite a cut splitting her lip, she smiled at me.

The numbness dissipated, and all I could see was a red haze.

When her husband tried to walk out the door, I picked a fight—goading him into hitting me first—and when he did, I retaliated, tackling him to restrain him.

Unfortunately, he might have smacked his face against the ground in the process.

I put him in the back of the car with handcuffs around his wrist and blood running out of his nose.

I didn’t feel bad about that part, but when the moment was over, I realized what a stupid risk it’d been to goad the guy.

He could have had a weapon—could have pulled it on me—and maybe part of me was hoping he would.

But it just as easily could have been Hayes who was put in that situation—or Callie.

I messed up.

Cap shakes his head, the fluorescent lighting in his office doing nothing to hide the disappointment flaring in the depths of his silvery eyes.

“No, Campbell. I wouldn’t, and it’s not just today. You’ve been distracted lately. Are you okay?”

His voice deepens on the word okay, placing an emphasis on it that makes me want to laugh.

Am I okay? No, Cap. I haven’t been for a while, but no one seems to notice—that or they tell me to pray about it. But the prayers stopped working.

I don’t say any of that, though. Instead, I put on that stupid smile that saps the energy out of me and lie. “Yeah, Cap. Why wouldn’t I be?”

No one ever sees through that lie, so it’s no surprise when Cap doesn’t either.

“Okay, kid,” he says, scrubbing his hand down his face. “But what happened today can’t happen again? Are we clear?”

He’s looking at me like he trusts me, and suddenly, the pressure of this person I created is too heavy. Between one breath and the next, I let it melt away, leaving behind that version of me.

“Actually, Cap, I think I need to take a leave of absence.”

I think my pronouncement shocks him because he doesn’t say anything, just blinks, then blinks again.

“I have vacation time—a lot of it. I haven’t taken a vacation in all the time I’ve been on the force. I’ll use that.”

My rush of words must pull him out of his shock because he finally moves, holding up his hands to stop me. The words dry up on my tongue, and I curl my fingers into a fist. I’m crumbling, and I need to make it out of here before I do.

“Is this about today?” Another piece of me chips away.

“No, sir.”

“Are you going to explain to me what this is about?”

I shake my head. “No, sir.”

“Even if it means losing your job?”

My chest squeezes. This job is the only thing that has held me together over the years, but I can’t stay—not right now.

“If that’s what you feel you need to do, sir,” I say without an ounce of emotion in my voice.

Cap sighs, scrubbing his hand over his jaw again—but this time harder.

“Take the time you need. Your job will be here when you get back.”

Relief washes through me. “Thank you, sir.”

I push out of my seat to leave, but Cap’s voice stops me.

“And when you’re ready to talk, Campbell. I’ll be here.”

I nod at him, unable to say anything else, and walk out the door.

______________________

Hayes is leaning beside the door outside Cap’s office with his arms crossed over his chest. There’s a look of concern in his eyes, but I avoid looking. Instead, I try to keep walking, pretending I didn’t see him, but he’s faster. He steps in front of me, blocking my path.

“We need to talk.” He’s not asking, but I don’t care. This is where I should smile—maybe crack a joke—but I can’t bring myself to do it. There’s a monster clawing at my throat, infecting my veins with poisonous tips—something I’ve kept hidden for far too long—and he’s about to break free.

“Get out of my way, Hayes,” I say, the iciness of that poison dripping from my lips. I meet his gaze and watch him flinch. I’ve never spoken to him like that—never spoken to anyone like that—but I don’t have it in me to fake a smile and pretend anymore.

We stand in the hallway, staring each other down, and I send up a silent prayer, hoping he’ll let this go. But once again, my faith falls short. My best friend is twice as stubborn as I am, and he’s watching me like I’m going to break.

I am—of course—but I don’t want him to know that. I want to go home and shatter in solitude.

“No. Something’s going on with you. It has been for a while, but ever since Ivy came back to town—” His voice trails off, and his eyes flick away from mine for only a second, but it’s enough for me to see what he isn’t saying.

I’ve changed, but what he doesn’t know is that this is the real me. “I’m worried about you, man.”

That should make me feel better. Hell, part of me has been begging for someone to notice—screaming out for help even when I was hiding my pain—but it doesn’t make me feel better. It only adds to the ever-mounting pressure.

“Don’t be,” I snap. “I’m fine.”

I hate myself for the hurt that flashes behind his eyes—hate myself for a lot of things.

“Campbell,” Hayes pleads, but the walls are closing in, and I can’t stay here any longer.

“I’m fine, Hayes,” I say, this time with less vehemence. “I have to go.”

I don’t wait for him to argue. I spin around, ready to sprint, but before I do, I turn my head over my shoulder and look back at him, needing to say one more thing before I go. “You should find a new assistant coach. I need a break.”

Hayes’s eyes stay on my back as I walk away.