Blake crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes at me. “You’re seriously going to leave me behind?”
“Blake.”
She holds up her hand for me to stop. “Don’t.”
I sigh. “Walker and Santiago need my help.”
Blake drops her hand. “I know.” Her eyes fall to her boots. “I just don’t want to sit here when I could be of help.”
Stepping closer, I brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “This isn’t because we don’t trust you.”
She snorts. “Could’ve fooled me.”
A sad smile barely curves my mouth. “It’s because we need to be sure that you’re safe.”
“You can bemybabysitter,” Javier interjects.
Blake and I slowly look toward him.
Javier shrugs. “I’ve been told I’m very easy to babysit.”
Blake cracks a laugh, her smile taking over her face. When she stops, her attention returns to me. “Tell Santiago and Walker that you three owe me big time for this.”
“I will happily pay on my knees,” I say with a wink.
Blake playfully shoves my shoulder. “You’re a shameless flirt, Levi Harding.”
I kiss her forehead, then watch as Javier leads Blake inside with Bear following right behind them.
Every instinct tells me to stay and spend the rest of the night making tea, wrapping her in blankets, and convincing myself she's alright.
But Walker and Santiago need me.
And right now, I’m only going because Blake is breathing.
I arrive at the police station swiftly. The parking lot is overflowing with news station vans. Each news reporter and their cameramen mill about, waiting for the opportunity to pounce.
I park my truck in the back, avoiding the mob out front.
Inside, Ridge nods, acknowledging my arrival. Jolene sits at her desk, her eyes rimmed red from crying. She’s probably worrying over Tessa, who is still at the hospital getting checked.
Walker and Santiago wait for me at the end of the hall that leads to the interrogation room.
Walker notices my presence first. “Blake okay?”
“Javier’s with her,” I answer.
Walker and Santiago nod.
I move to go down the hall to the observation room, but Walker steps in my way. “I want you in there.”
My head pulls back an inch. “Why?”
Walker gives me a look. “You know him.”
He has a point. I’m the person most likely to get Abbott to talk.
I’m still struggling to reconcile the fact that the man I worked with every day for the last several years is the same man who pulled out a rifle at Silver Pines today.
