Where We Belong (Alabama Summer #3.5) - Page 10/33

Out of all of us, Luke despised him the most. Luckily, when Luke surrendered that detective position and got his ass back to Ruxton to fix shit with my sister, Jacobs took the job and left, leaving CJ without a partner.

CJ doesn’t seem to mind his absence. No one does. Jacobs was a shit cop and a douchebag human being.

“I kinda miss that asshole,” Luke adds dryly, scratching the back of his buzzed head. “Remember how pissed he’d get when his lunch would go missing from the break room? His wife made the best chicken salad.”

“That was you?” CJ’s brow lifts to his hairline. He snorts, his hand falling heavy on the table. “Man, do you know how many times I was stuck listening to him bitch in the car about that? He was already annoying as shit.”

“Why did you all hate him?” Reed asks, looking between us.

“‘Cause he was a dick. Plain and fucking simple.”

I nod in agreement with CJ, taking another swig of my beer.

Luke rubs at his jaw, his eyes losing focus as if he’s remembering something. “Caught him checking out Tessa’s ass one time a few years ago.”

I slowly sit forward. The fuck? “What?”

What the hell? I didn’t know about this.

He lifts his gaze. “Yeah. It was right after she and I first met and she stopped by the precinct to visit you. But I think she was really just there wearing those damn cut-offs trying to bait me.”

I glare at him.

“With conversation,” he quickly adds, blinking away.

“Conversation?” Reed breathes a laugh, looking skeptically at Luke. “Yeah, right. I know what cut-offs you’re talking about. I watched her hack up a pair of old jeans to make them. She wasn’t there to talk, man.”

I cut Reed a look.

I’m not sure what’s pissing me off more, the fact that he probably watched my sister try those damn ass-hugging shorts on since the two of them are so fucking close, or the fact that he’s right.

My sister sure as hell wasn’t there to talk, to me or Luke.

I remember her stopping in that day. I remember wondering what the hell she was doing stopping in, since she never came by the precinct before. After giving me no more than two words, greeting me with a ‘sup bro?’, she immediately narrowed in on Luke and the two of them disappeared together.

That fucker came back inside twenty minutes later wearing the biggest, shit-eating grin on his face and begging me for Tessa’s number, telling me she was sorry she couldn’t stay and chat.

Yeah. I’m sure she was devastated.

Reed’s face drops all trace of humor when he absorbs my reaction. Clearing his throat, he lifts his beer and chugs half of it.

I look around the table.

I should line these idiots up and knock them out one at a time. Then I should go find Jacobs and bury him.

After mentioning it was Luke eating his sandwiches all those years. Be fucking awesome seeing him react to that news.

“Hey, guys.” Beth walks up to the table and places her hand on Reed’s shoulder, smiling at each of us before looking down at him. “Hey you.”

“Sweetheart,” he replies, reaching for her. “Come here.”

She shakes her head. “Can’t. My shift isn’t over.”

“I’ll handle that. Where’s Danny? I’ll threaten to start calling him Dad again.” Reed starts to get up.

“Reed,” she laughs, pushing against his arm until he lowers back into his seat. She bends down and drops her head next to his.

They share a moment, whispering with each other, Reed cupping her face and kissing her, looking more than ready to marry his girl.

It’s good to see. I’m happy for them. Really fucking happy for Reed.

Doesn’t mean I won’t give him shit about it while I can. What are friends for?

“You ready to marry this idiot?” I ask, my voice lifting as I stand and slip my phone away.

Reed narrows his eyes. I ignore it, smiling at Beth.

“It’s not too late to back out.”

She slides into Reed’s lap and wraps her arms around him, holding him possessively.

“I was born ready,” she declares, tilting her chin up, owning those words and saying them loud enough I’m sure a few tables around us hear her.

An emotion passes over Reed’s face, something I know I feel a thousand times a day when I think about Mia. He looks relieved, like he’s finally able to take a breath after going so long without it, his eyes going soft before he slowly closes them.

Dropping his head, he buries his face in Beth’s neck and pins her against him.

I take that as my cue, as do the other guys, who stand, leaving their beers on the table and reaching for their wallets.

I want to get home to Mia anyway. It’s been three hours since I left her in that dressing room looking like straight-up sin, begging and needing what I was offering her. I’m dying to see her.

Hold her.

Taste her.

Touch her.

Fuck her.

My groin throbs.

Fuck. Get home before you get hard.

After tossing out some cash to cover a tip, I walk out of McGill’s Pub with CJ and Luke, the two of them talking shit about Jacobs as I glance at the phone vibrating in my hand.

I hit ignore for the second time tonight.

“I PAID FOR MY MISTAKES, Ben. I know what I did was unforgivable . . . but he’s my son. I want to see him. I have every right to see him. You can’t keep Nolan from me. And ignoring my calls? Really? Answer your damn phone. This isn’t . . .”

“Ben?”

Hearing the voice behind me, I cut off my second listen of Angie’s voicemail and lower my hand, clutching my phone and keeping my back to Mia as I try and work this bullshit out in my head.

Truth is, I don’t want to work it out. I knew this day would come, and I’m not ready for it. I’ll never be ready for it.

I feel Mia’s tits press against my back. Her hands wrap around my waist.

“Babe?”

“Angie’s out. She wants to see Nolan.”

Mia tenses, the muscles in her arms going stiff. “What?” she whispers. Her hands slowly leave my body. “Why is she out already? I thought she was supposed to get four years?”

“Good behavior,” I mumble, spinning around.

I toss my phone on the bed behind Mia and rub at my face, my breath blowing hot against my palms.

“Good fucking behavior. It doesn’t matter that she could’ve killed Nolan. That she could’ve taken my son from me. No, she’s been playing nice with the guards and doing a real good job cleaning toilets. Let’s let her out early. She fucking deserves it.”

I start pacing the room.

That night three years ago when I got the call from Rollins plays back in my mind. It stings like a fresh wound, pitting deep in my chest. I’ll never forget it. I’ll never forget how scared I was for Nolan and the unforgiving rage I felt for his mother, seeing her in the back of that squad car crying and begging for compassion, spouting her excuses to me, trying to justify shit. I didn’t want to hear her fucked up reasoning for driving drunk and high with my son in the car—blaming me. Saying I gave up on us.

She could’ve killed Nolan, and she wanted my understanding? My empathy?

Fuck her. I will never forgive that bitch. She thinks she paid for her mistakes? She thinks I owe her time with my son? I don’t owe her shit.