Page 17 of Chasing Honor

“Yeah.”

We spent the next two hours processing the scene and three more at the station doing paperwork. By the time four o’clock rolled around, and my shift was over, I was fucking done. I wanted nothing more than to pick up Carson, grab a pizza, go home, and sit out on the deck in silence.

Talk about a clusterfuck of a Saturday.

On my way to my parents’ house I called the captain to check on Mike. He was out of surgery. Luckily, the doctor was able to repair the damage before he’d bled to death, and he’d make a full recovery. Thank the good Lord.

* * *

“Daddy!” Carson came running toward me at full speed as soon as I walked into my parents’ house.

“Hey, little Squirt.” I picked her up and spun in a circle before hugging her close.

“Ouch, Daddy. Your stuff is poking me,” she complained.

My stuff being my vest and utility belt I still hadn’t taken off.

“Sorry, baby. You ready to head home? I’m tired today.”

“All ready. Gran packed up some of the cookies we made so Honor can try them.”

Fuck. Honor.

How could I have forgotten about her? A burglary, an officer shot, and after-action reports from hell was how I’d forgotten about my sexy, new roommate.

“That was nice of you and Gran. I’m sure she’ll like them. Go grab them.”

Carson ran to the kitchen where I knew my mom was because there was loud clanking coming from that direction.

“What’s Mom doing?”

“Cleaning out the cabinets.” My dad rolled his eyes. There was no need to clean anything in my mom’s kitchen. It was spotless. “What’s wrong?”

Leave it to my dad to pick up on my demeanor.

“Officer was shot today. Mike Collins. He’s recovering.”

“The suspect?”

“At large. Fled on foot. Two officers gave chase, but they lost him.”

“Another liquor store?”

“Yep.”

“What is that five or six?” he asked.

“Five,” I confirmed.

“Fuck. When’s your next shift?”

“Monday.” I hated how worried my dad look and I was quick to add, “I’m always safe.”

My father’s green eyes, the same color as mine, pinned me in place. My reminder did nothing to ease the worry etched into his face. He had the same apprehensive look when my brother was home. He’d always told us from a young age he’d support any career choice we made, from being a garbage man to any branch of the military. What he never wanted was for either of us to feel obligated to join the Army like he had. He’d always said he’d answered the call enough for both of us, but it would be our choice.

Carter had set his sights on the Naval Academy and accomplished just that. After he was commissioned, he answered another challenge and left for San Diego to go to BUD/s. Six months later he’d graduated and was pinned with a shiny, gold Trident. My brother was one tough son of a bitch.

When I’d left school to raise Carson, I’d also left behind ROTC and my plans to join the Army. Even though the military was no longer an option, I still had the deep-seated need to serve my community, so I became a cop. Now I wondered if my desire to follow my dreams was selfish.