I saw Alex shrug out of the corner of my eye, and his voice was casual when he said, “Yeah, well, I’m sure she deserved it.” And then he lifted his head to meet my eyes, clapping a hand onto my shoulder. “That lift gate saved your lives, man.” We held each other’s stares, and then he let out a laugh and turned away, lifting his arms at his sides to steady himself as he walked back across the pile of logs.
Chloe had been bitching when the paramedics rolled her into the hospital, whining about how she didn’t have to come to the hospital last time and the punch from Max was even worse. But the doctor was worried about the multiple head injuries she’d taken in the last few weeks, and wanted to keep her for at least a few hours for observation.
I lowered my voice as I told the nurse Chloe had averyhigh tolerance for pain meds, and because she seemed annoyed with Chloe’s incessant griping since we’d gotten settled in her room, the nurse gave me a knowing look. I’m pretty sure she gave her at least half an extra dose of medication to knock her the fuck out.
Finished with my report, I close the lid to my laptop and set it on the couch behind me, shifting my focus to the woman I’d thought wasso incredibly complicated and dangerous for so long. As I allow myself a moment to take her in completely in this new light, I realize she’s not complicated at all. Nor is she dangerous.
She’s committed. She’s dedicated to protecting the people she loves. She devotes her entire life to protecting people who may not yet be strong enough to protect themselves, because she knows what that feels like. And she knows that given the chance, those people may learn how to grow into someone they can be proud of. Someone who is both hardened and softened by their experiences. Someone who feels every emotion—anger, sadness, glee—just as strongly as the next.
Just like her.
Chloe Stark isn’t complicated. She never has been. I was just too afraid to peel all her layers back because I knew my own layers would be revealed in the process, and that was something I’d never felt ready to face.
Chloe just wanted to be loved, and I just wanted to love her.
My captain was right; law enforcement is complex work. It’s hard. It’s incredibly frustrating, especially when the bad guy gets away. When we walk away from the domestic violence shelter without any firm resolution for the families who depend on us to provide them with one. When the confines of the laws and codes that guide our work turn suffocating, and our hands are tied, and the people who need our protection don’t get it.
The process of coming to terms with having a badge and not exactly being all that virtuous has started for me.
Chloe and I, we both make the world a little bit safer in our own ways. And together, I really don’t see how we don’t conquer the world entirely.
Movement near the entrance to her room steals my attention, and I look up to see Captain Barrett quietly closing the door behind him, moving slowly in the direction of Chloe’s bed and staring down at her quiet, sleeping form.
“She’s not like this very often,” I joke, watching her.
“No,” he says quietly, letting a light laugh out. “She’s not.”
Silence engulfs the room as we stare at her. As we figure out how to navigate our own relationship with each other, as boss and subordinate, as Chloe’s partners in her chaotic crime sprees.
“I was so young,” he eventually says, his voice tight. “I wasn’t ready to be a father.”
I continue staring at her as he hesitates to go on, and I wonder who she’d be today if he’d never left.
Clearing his throat, he slips his hand into hers and she stirs at the touch, but doesn’t wake. “My own mother, when she found out Caroline was pregnant, she moved us away. She thought if we didn’t have to face it every day, then it would be like it didn’t exist. But I came back eventually, I had to.” His thumb moves aimlessly over the back of Chloe’s hand. “When it was just the two of them, they were thriving. So I just watched from afar. I didn’t want to disturb what they were building together. Caroline was successful, Chloe was happy…
“When her mother called after the first one. When she told me what that man had been doing to them. To her…” His voice cracks, but he hardens it, clearing his throat again and standing straighter. “I thanked whatever God may be above that Chloe hadn’t taken a knife to the man’s throat. That it ended up looking like a terrible accident.”
Captain Barrett’s eyes grow dark as he turns to me and admits, “I am the one who told Caroline to say it was an accident. To say neither of them had been in the backyard when he fell. It was the least I could do after not being there for them. It was my fault they’d ended up there to begin with. And a few years later when the next rotten man came along, she made that one look like an accident, too.”
“Captain—”
“Just listen, Colin,” he begs, so I do. “I couldn’t stop it. I’d rather those men be dead than continue to harm my girls. Chloe was doing what she hadto do, and I don’t fault her for it. I did what I could when the ME pulled that third report, but my hands were tied. Other people were noticing. Caroline and I, we made the decision that she’d take the fall for it until we could figure a way out for the both of them.”
I nod in understanding. I don’t have children. I don’t have a family that I left behind. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d been in the same situation. A leader in law enforcement with the capabilities of shifting investigations to protect my child. The child I thought I owed something to. A child I thought would have been safe had I made the brave but scary decision to stay.
I might have done the exact same thing as he did.
Hell, I basically am, but with the woman I love.
Pulling his hand from hers, Captain Barrett straightens again, clears his throat for the final time, and pulls his hand away from Chloe’s body, halting any tears that had been threatening to form.
“I’m sorry that you were impacted by my actions. Hurting you was never my intention, Colin. I…I love you. We’ve been working together for a long time. You’re sharp, you’re an incredible cop, and I’m so proud of you. I’m sorry that I never said that. I’m sorry you thought I never believed in you.”
I shake my head, attempting to shake my own tears away, but one burns a hot, wet path down my cheek. It’s been a long time since someone has told me they’re proud of me, and I didn’t realize how badly I wanted to hear it. How badly I needed to hear that I wasn’t out of my mind, that I was on the right track.
Captain Barrett extends his hand in my direction, and I stand, clapping mine into his.
“She’s not a bad person,” I tell him. “And neither are you.”
