Tomorrow we’re leaving for Western Europe for a month-long honeymoon, the trip we never took all those years ago. But tonight, we’re celebrating in the house we’re making a home. An old house that looked like it was well past salvaging, but underneath it all, the foundation was solid.
With my wife by my side, I look around the room at the deputies and staff happily chatting. Gone is the dark cloud that plagued the department in the aftermath of Ryker’s crimes. Instead, there’s a sense of excitement—of new beginnings.
Six months ago, I wouldn't have believed this moment was possible.
Ryker’s arrest shattered Red Mountain, and putting the pieces back together has been slow, painful work. People were left feeling betrayed and confused. Beneath the polished exterior he presented, there was a closet overflowing with skeletons. According to information from the FBI and a few psychiatric evaluations, they believe Claire leaving him was his breaking point. When the illusion of his perfect life began to unravel, something in him fractured.
A part of me had always known Ryker harbored feelings for Ellie, but I never could’ve imagined the depths of his fixation or the darkness it would unleash. When he lost both Claire and Victoria, his long buried obsession with her worsened. The investigation is ongoing, but Claire and Victoria’s resemblance to Ellie doesn’t feel like a coincidence.
It’s been hard not to feel some level of blame. There were signs, and I failed to see them until it was too late.
Ellie’s been drowning in guilt ever since everything cameto light, blaming herself for Victoria’s death. For that reason alone, I wish I’d just killed him.
She has nothing to feel guilty about. Ryker was sick. This was his fault—his alone. I don’t know if she’ll ever fully move past the trauma he inflicted. But I’ll be by her side, every step of the way. We started therapy, both separately and together. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure this doesn’t consume her.
And through all of it, crime didn’t stop. Clore County still needed a sheriff. The Board of County Commissioners appointed Doyle as interim sheriff, but with his retirement around the corner, he had no interest in keeping the job long term. To my surprise, he encouraged me to run. So I did, not thinking I’d actually win.
I didn’t take into account how the media would spin things, making me look like the hero who took down a sheriff who’d gone off the rails.
When the emergency special election was held, I ran unopposed. Today, we’re celebrating. And while it feels strange to celebrate something I was practically handed, I’m trying to embrace it and show up with the kind of presence this role deserves.
Ellie, still wrapped around me, pulls back slightly, her grin fading when she notices my expression. “You don't look like you're having fun.”
“It’s uncomfortable,” I admit. “Hard to celebrate something when it doesn’t feel like I truly earned it.”
“Hey,” she protests. “You absolutely deserve it.” Her voice softens, and there’s warmth in her eyes that makes my chest tighten. “Look at everyone here, happily celebrating your big win. They're proud of you.”
“Maybe.” I let my hands slide from her waist and step back, though it takes more willpower than I’d like to admit. “But right now, I’d rather be celebrating with you—alone.”
She doesn't need more encouragement.
Taking my hand, she tugs me toward the hallway.
“Where are we going?” I ask, even though I have a pretty good idea.
“You'll see.”
We slip out the back, the noise from the party fading as we step into my new office.
She shuts the door behind us, locking it with an audible click.
The old me would not be down for this, but Ellie’s impulsive streak has started to rub off on me.
Sneaking away with my wife on my first day on the job, is probably a terrible idea. But if there’s anyone worth breaking rules for—even laws—it’s her.
“You know, this is how rumors start.” I lean against my desk as she eats up the distance between us.
Her fingers toy with the new, shiny badge pinned to my chest. “Let them talk.”
“You say that now?—”
She silences me with a kiss, her hands tangling in my hair. It's slow and teasing, just enough to drive me wild without giving me what I really want.
“This is criminal behavior,” I say under my breath as she pulls away.
Her brow arches, lips curling into a smile. “Maybe you should do something about it.”
Fuck, this woman. A goddamn dream girl.
