Page 14 of The Sunny Side (Rojo 2nd Generation: Rojo Police Department #3)

C LANCY

Tansy and Darcy had finished the electrolyte-replenishing drinks that I had waiting when I picked them up and were quiet as we waited in the drive-thru for our coffee order.

Once they had time for a few sips, I said, “Do you guys remember hearing Dad or Collette say anything about getting a protective order?”

“Against us?” Darcy asked in confusion.

“No! It would have been right after I had my accident.”

“I don’t remember them mentioning anything about a protective order, but they did say that the guy who rescued you had become a problem. That’s part of why they moved you to the hospital in Denver.”

“I thought they moved me so I could be closer to home.”

“Why would they? We have . . . They have a house right outside of Colorado Springs,” Tansy reminded me.

“My memories are so fuzzy around that time. I was on a lot of pain meds after they did the surgery on my leg, so I’m not sure which memories are real and which ones aren’t. There are a few days that I don’t remember at all, to be honest.”

I pulled out of the parking lot onto the busy street and was trying to get to the middle lane when Darcy changed the subject and said, “While we reboot, tell us what happened last night.”

“Yeah,” Tansy agreed. “How’s your head?”

“The emergency room doctor said I have a slight concussion. I had a wound on my head from it bouncing on the concrete, but they were able to glue it closed and didn’t have to shave my head or anything.”

“Does it hurt?”

“I’ve got a slight headache, but . . .”

“We could always do this shopping trip another day,” Darcy suggested eagerly.

“I took some ibuprofen before I left, and it’s fine.”

“Shit,” I heard Tansy mumble from the back seat.

“A man named Heath Forrester showed up before they loaded me into the ambulance, and then he came to the hospital to give me a ride,” I explained.

“Heath. He sounds delicious,” Tansy said with a delighted hum.

Darcy agreed as she whispered, “Yum. Toffee.”

“He’s very handsome, but that’s not what I want to talk about,” I said to redirect them.

“Why were you asking about a restraining order? Is that the same thing as a protective order?” Darcy asked.

“I have no idea. I’ve never had a need for one, but the important part of all of this is that the knight in shining armor that rescued me lives in our neighborhood.”

“What?” Tansy and Darcy screeched at the same time.

“He was actually the one that hit me with the ball and then kept Cupcake while I was at the hospital.”

“So, he’s real? I thought you imagined him,” Tansy said skeptically.

“Well, somebody had to pull her out of the car, Tansy,” Darcy reminded her sarcastically.

“I wonder now if that kiss was real,” I interrupted before the hungover and cranky women started to argue. “Maybe all of those fuzzy moments I thought I dreamed really happened.”

“How old is this guy?”

“I hope he’s not too old since he was your first kiss and all,” Darcy said uncomfortably.

“I assume he’s close to our age. He didn’t seem older. I think Heath may be a little older than me, but I’m not sure.”

“What did this guy . . . What’s his name?”

“Brawley.”

“I like that,” Tansy murmured. “Sounds manly and lumberjacky.”

“Is that even a word?” I asked.

“It is now,” Tansy announced. “Does he look like that one guy on TikTok?”

“The dark-haired lumberjack?”

“Focus, ladies!” I snapped before I explained what Heath had told me. “I guess something happened while I was in the hospital with Brawley. Collette flipped out and filed a restraining order against him.”

“Bitch,” Tansy hissed.

“Why would she do that?” Darcy asked at the same time.

“Why does she do anything that she does?” I asked rhetorically.

Tansy scoffed before she said, “My guess is that she didn’t recognize him from the social ladder that she clings to like a lifeline, so she deemed him unworthy and blew him off, even though he saved your fucking life!”

“That’s exactly what I think happened,” I agreed.

“Can I borrow some money?” Darcy asked.

“Sure,” I agreed easily. I knew it was hard for either of my sisters to ask for a handout, so much so that they had insisted on a partnership contract before they allowed me to give them a single dime to go toward opening the business of their dreams. “How much do you need?”

“How much does it cost to hire a hitman?” Darcy asked.

“An even more important question is how would you find one?” Tansy asked thoughtfully. “On TV and in the movies, they’re a dime a dozen, but I’m not sure where to look in real life.”

“Stop it! We’re not going to have Collette killed. We’re going to let her live out her miserable life all alone with only our dear father for company.”

“That’s worse than death anyway,” Tansy muttered.

“I hope assassins aren’t easy to find, because if they are, I would bet that Brawley’s sister is meeting with one as we speak.”

“You met his sister?”

“Not officially,” I told them before I explained what happened when I went to pick up Cupcake.

“As much as I hate to admit it, I don’t really blame her for the chilly reception,” Darcy said. “I’d be pissed, too, if one of you had gone out of your way to help someone only to be slapped in the face with Collette’s bullshit and drama.”

“And he was just a kid, right? The guy you thought you dreamed up was your age, wasn’t he?”

“He was, and the man I saw last night looked to be about my age.”

“Is he hot?”

“I was a little out of it, Darcy,” I reminded her. I thought about how concerned he looked when he slipped my glasses on and I got a good look at him. “Yeah. He’s good looking.”

“I think you should find him and apologize for Collette’s fuckery and then kiss his hurt feelings all better,” Tansy said cheerfully. “We’ve gotta get you out of your bubble somehow, and if it takes you doing naughty things to some lumberjack hottie, then so be it.”

“Did I mention that he’s a K-9 officer?” I asked.

As we pulled into the parking lot of the mall, the girls went wild with speculation. My sisters were crazy in the best way and I loved them dearly, but I had to admit that their obsession with me getting out and making friends was really wearing on my nerves.

Maybe Tansy’s idea had merit - except for the part where I traded sexual favors for forgiveness on behalf of our stepmonster.

Then again, it had been a long time since I had been intimate with a man, and if I was being honest with myself, I’d never been as attracted to anyone as I was to my handsome rescuer.

It was definitely something to think about.

◆◆◆

brAWLEY

“Release,” I said as I unhooked Max’s leash. He took off toward the kitchen, and I heard my mom’s excited squeal when she saw him, which always made me smile. As I walked through the house, I called out, “Don’t feed him anything, Mom!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mom said as I walked around the corner to find Max chewing on something and Mom standing in front of the open refrigerator. When I frowned at her, she said, “I gave him a slice of cheese, Brawley. It’s not like I fed him cotton candy.”

“I should have paid attention to Dad all of those times when he griped about how you never listen . . .”

My voice trailed off when something hit me in the head hard enough to knock me a step forward. I realized my dad had slapped me when he said, “Fucking narc!”

“You bitch about me behind my back?” Mom asked. When Dad didn’t say anything, she did her impersonation of him and answered his question herself. “Of course not, sugar pie! I’d never do such a thing!”

Dad snorted and I burst out laughing at the thought of him ever uttering the words “sugar pie,” but then the conversation started all over again when Mom slipped Max another slice of cheese.

I knew there were never secrets in my family, so I wasn’t surprised when Mom slid a mug of coffee across the bar toward me and said, “So, dangerous stalker, what’s new in your world?”

That’s all it took for me to unleash. A torrent of words tumbled out of my mouth faster than I could control them, ending with, “And I’m not the fucking stalker, she is! That woman has been to my house four times since yesterday. Four!”

“What did she want?” Mom asked.

“I don’t know because I didn’t answer the door!

I hid in the kitchen until she went away.

This morning was the worst because she sat on my fucking porch like a gargoyle just waiting.

I’m not sure I’ll be able to get into my house this evening so I can sleep or even go outside when it’s time for work tomorrow without being accosted! ”

Dad cleared his throat, and when I looked over, I found that he was trying very hard not to laugh when he asked, “Did you ever consider opening the door and asking her what the hell she wants?”

“Hell no!”

“Of course he didn’t! We didn’t start calling him Little Bear because he’s furry!” Mom exclaimed. “Opening the door would require communication, something that he’s sorely lacking in, no thanks to your contribution of genes.”

“I can’t talk to her until I know for sure that stupid protective order isn’t in place. Marcus is going to look into it Monday, so I have to avoid her until then.”

“If it’s expired, are you going to talk to her then?” Mom asked.

“What is there to talk about?”

“Maybe you knocked some sense into her when you beaned her with that tennis ball, and she wants to apologize for being such a horrid little twat all those years ago,” Mom suggested.

When all of that went down, my dad was irritated that I’d been punished for doing a good deed and then trying to follow up to make sure the girl was okay.

Mom lost it, though. Shit went completely sideways when she found out that the girl and her family had gotten the courts involved to take measures against me.

It took quite a bit of convincing to get her to stay away from them so she didn’t end up with a legal battle of her own.

My parents were supportive of all their children.

I couldn’t think of a time they hadn’t had my back - whether it was yelling from the sidelines as I participated in sports or going toe to toe with an adult they thought wasn’t giving me a fair shake.

However, in this particular case, their support was very different.

Dad was a man of few words as always, and Mom was also her usual self - the direct opposite.

When she got her back up, she could shake the foundation of every building within a three-mile radius with just her voice alone.

She’d even been known to get physical on our behalf.

My seventh grade band teacher could attest to that.

She probably still had a bruise in the middle of her chest from my mom’s finger when she backed her up against a wall and chewed her ass at top volume for a good five minutes because she had accused me of lying in front of the entire class.

I couldn’t help but smile at that memory. Ms. Johnson didn’t know what sort of fire she’d started when she began picking on me, but by the time Mom got involved, she was definitely feeling the flames.

“I’m afraid to leave my house in case she’s perched in a tree somewhere ready for a sneak attack, so I’ve gotta hang out here today.”

“Do you want me to talk to her?” Mom asked.

At the same time, Dad and I yelled, “No!”

Mom raised her eyebrows and then sniffed before she said, “Fine then. Take care of it your damn self.”

Mom stomped out of the kitchen, but I knew she wasn’t finished by any means.

She was probably going to call some of her friends to gather up their torches and hunt Clarisse down so they could burn her at the stake.

Knowing them, they would be saddled up and ready to ride within minutes of getting the call.

“You’re gonna have to go talk her off the ledge, Dad.”

“Do I look stupid? I don’t have to do shit but pay taxes and die, and I’d rather do both of those things rather than cross your mom when she’s got her sights set on someone.

I’ve seen what that woman can do, and believe me, it’s a sight to behold but terrifying.

Besides, your mom promised she’d leave that girl alone until she hit eighteen because she’d rather go to jail for assault than child abuse. Who am I to deny her that closure?”

“Good grief.”