Page 5 of Too Far

“We’ll get through this,” he says into the silence. “Any time you want to go out on the lake, say the word. I’ll drop what I’m doing if it means giving you what you need.”

I glance up into his onyx eyes, desperate to see something real. His gaze is a solemn vow. There’s enough determination there to make me believe that this could all be okay.

“Promise?”

“With everything I am.”

Chapter 3

Kendrick

Iknowit’shimfrom the cadence of his stride. Each step is authoritative, purposeful. Formidable without wielding the kind of overzealous power stereotypical of law enforcement.

The cell door swings open, but I don’t lift my head until he’s seated beside me. It takes that long to garner the courage to face him.

His deep brown eyes flecked with gold are full of nothing but warmth and concern. The man sitting beside me isn’t the Lake Chapel sheriff. This is my Pops.

He regards me, one eyebrow raised. “I raised you to be loyal, son. Not sacrificial.”

He knows there isn’t an impulsive, reckless bone in my body. There can’t be. I’m a two-hundred-and-thirty-pound running back hoping to go pro. One indiscretion could ruin my career.

Damn if this wouldn’t have been a hell of a lot easier if I was a nobody in this town. But I’m not, and I made a deliberate choice. One he doesn’t agree with, if the disappointment on his face is any indication.

“You raised me to take care of my own, Pops. So that’s what I did.”

He frowns as he surveys me, the wrinkles in his forehead creasing deeply. “It wasn’t for Decker,” he declares after another moment’s appraisal.

I roll my shoulders out in a shrug. “You don’t know that.”

I’m going for nonchalant, not disrespectful.

He’s caught the lie before I even close my mouth.

“Maybe not. But here’s what I do know.” He drops his elbows to his knees. “We get a call from the Crusade isle. Reports of aggravated assault by a tattooed hulk of a man wearing a red Crusaders cutout.”

Tilting his head, he makes a show of examining my long-sleeve fitted performance T.

I don’t wear cutouts. Especially during the day. I can’t risk exposing that much skin. He’s been buying long-sleeve shirts like this for me since I was diagnosed with lupus more than ten years ago.

“The call is from a panicked out-of-towner who’s making substantial claims and insisting he’s got the whole thing on video. All this went down at the place where my son lives with his friends, where my baby girls go on the regular to visit their big brother.”

He lifts one brow in a way that’s always made my stomach sink. He’s a fair man, but he’s got high expectations of me. Especially when it comes to my sisters.

“I stay back at the station, conflict of interest and all that, and send Rodriguez as my eyes and ears. I sit in my office panicking, worried about one of my son’s best friends, and down three cups of coffee in the process.”

With his fingers steepled in front of him, he’s the epitome of calm, even though he’s raging on the inside.

“When Rodriguez returns, she doesn’t have Nicholas Lockewood in custody. Nor has she obtained video footage or evidence. Because it’s gone. Poof. Inaccessible. Corrupted. Wiped. Whatever it is Kylian does to make things disappear.”

He watches me, waiting for me to argue or counter his assessment.

I don’t. What’s the point? He’s not wrong.

Though I have no intention of admitting the truth or dragging my friends into this now that I’ve stepped up to take the heat.

“Aggravated assault. Potential evidence tampering. Obstruction of justice. You sure you know what you’re doing, son?”

The question hits as intended.