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“Hey, bud.” I sit up, and Miranda starts to wake. “What happened?”
“I had a scary dream.” He crawls onto the bed from the end, walks toward me, and falls into my arms.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Miranda asks, and I look down at her as she reaches over to rub his back.
He rolls his face across my chest to look at his mom. “No.”
“Okay, lovie,” she replies quietly. “Do you want to have a cuddle?” He nods, and she tosses back the covers so he can climb in between us.
“You stayed the night?” He looks up at me once his head is on the pillow.
“Is that okay with you?” Miranda asks him.
He gives a shrug before curling his tiny body into hers, looking at me over his shoulder. “Can we haf a sleepover at your house ?”
“Yeah, we can do that.” I settle back against the headboard and watch the two of them. The moment is so fucking simple, but my chest fucking aches just experiencing it. I wish my sister, Arya, had been able to have this. If she had, maybe she wouldn’t have gone down the path she did, and maybe she’d still be around today.
“What are you thinking about?” Miranda asks quietly, and I focus on her before looking at Kingston, who’s fallen back asleep and is now lightly snoring.
“My foster sister, Arya.” I smooth my fingers across her forehead, and her face gets soft.
‘Tell me about her.”
“She was already living with the Patricks when I moved in with them, and even though she was younger than us, I think we all kind of felt like she was the mom we never had.” I let out a breath. “She was funny and always breaking up fights between Miles, Dalton, Clay, and me.” She smiles at that. “She was also bossy. She made us do our homework every night and would tell us that we had to get good grades, because without graduating from school, we wouldn’t amount to shit. And those were her exact words.” I laugh.
“Where is she now?”
“She died of a drug overdose while partying in Vegas with a group of guys who paid for her to be there.”
“Tucker.”
“This world is fucked up, baby,” I remind her quietly, and tears fill her eyes. “She’s the reason Miles and I joined the FBI, why Dalton became a lawyer, and why Clay has worked his ass off to help women who might be trapped in a life they don’t think they can get out of.”
“So, she’s living on through all of you,” she says softly, and my throat gets tight.
“I never thought about it like that, but yeah, I guess she kind of is.”
“I’m sorry you lost her.” She reaches up to touch my cheek, and I grab her hand and kiss her palm.
“Me too,” I whisper, and she gets a strange look on her face, then her eyes widen. “What?”
“He… he just peed on me,” she mumbles, squeezing her eyes closed.
“What?” I frown.
“He just peed on me.”
“Oh no,” Kingston whispers, lifting his head, and Miranda laughs.
“It’s okay, lovie. It’s just an accident,” she assures him, and I laugh, getting off the bed, and then I lift a still sleepy Kingston off his mom.
And just like, another morning of chaos ensues, one that includes getting Kingston into the shower, changing the sheets on the bed, and all of us having breakfast before the three of us get ready to leave for the day. And throughout all of it, not once do I wish I were anywhere else.
“Beckett, Thatcher, I need to speak with the two of you in my office!” Deputy Chief Stedman hollers from his office, and Miles and I look at each other before getting up.
“Do you know what this is about?” Miles asks, and I shake my head as we walk to the door across the room.
“Close it behind you,” he orders, and I pull the door in and stand with my arms at my sides, while Miles takes a seat across from him. Folding his arms across his large stomach, his gaze moves between the two of us. “I just got a call from Pastor Green,” he says, and my hackles rise. “He’s concerned, and so am I.”
“Chief—”
“Do you have evidence to support the allegations you’ve made?”
“We haven’t made any allegations. We’re in the process of investigating a murder. We have reason to believe Pastor Green’s nephew, Steven Green, has information that could be helpful in closing the case, but he immediately lawyered up when we asked him to come down to the station,” Miles says, and Stedman’s face starts to turn red.
“Until you have evidence that he has done something wrong, I expect you two to stand down,” he bites out, and I clench my teeth together. “I’ve known Pastor Green and his family for years. They are good, wholesome people who do great things for the community and this city. They don’t need the mark your presence could leave on them and the church.”
