First Surrender (Chance Encounters #3)

Chapter Twenty

Jackson

“ W here have you been?” I ask the seething barista who saved my mom the other day.

“Will you ever leave me alone? I want to go one day without seeing your ugly mug.” Her insult doesn’t bug me because I know she doesn’t think it’s true. I think.

“I am being neutral toward you only to tell you that the judge will make his ruling tomorrow.” I don’t have to elaborate. She knows I’m referring to the decision that will mean Declan gets out of jail and back on the streets.

“Great. See you tomorrow. Bye.” She dismisses me but I don’t move my foot from the break. Instead, I put the SUV in park. She rolls her eyes at me.

“Where did you go after you left the hotel? It’s the third day I’ve wondered where you’re laying your pretty head at night.”

“Awh, you think I’m pretty,” she says sweetly, dripping with sarcasm.

“It was an expression.” I think she’s gorgeous but she does not need that fuel added to her fire. “I could call child services and ask that they provide me with your current whereabouts, assuming you’ve been checking in with them as Dec’s guardian.”

The look on her face is nothing short of murderous. That was a low blow on my part and I am aware. I’m also desperate to know where she’s been.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

I shrug in response but I wouldn’t. I think she’s doing a great job with Dec.

She turns her back to me momentarily when a machine behind her starts beeping incessantly and I grind my teeth together to stop from making any audible noises.

She’s wearing a pair of black spandex shorts that start at her waist and end midway down her ass. The rounded exposed skin is a reminder of what we did and will never do again. Though, I’ve thought about it every single day, multiple times a day since then.

I peel my eyes away just in time for her to turn around and hand me a coffee I didn’t ask for. “What is it this time?”

She snorts. “It’s black coffee. I only fucked with you last time because I thought you’d give it back and I’d get it for free.”

“You don’t get free drinks here?”

“No. Only the mistakes and stale leftovers.”

“Tell me where you’ve been the last few days and I’ll buy your drink for you.”

Her eyes narrow but she eyes my cup longingly. “I’ve been staying with a guy.”

“What?!” I sputter, almost spilling the hot coffee I had started to drink. “You moved Dec in with some random guy?” I’m suddenly disagreeing with my previous opinion of her caretaking abilities.

“He’s someone that I met casually online. Why is that a problem? You wanted us to move in with you and you’re some random guy, too.”

“I’m not random and I’m a cop. It’s different.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

The thought of her being with some strange guy makes my blood boil, especially with how her last date ended. “How could you do that to Dec?”

“Okay. You’re done. You are overstepping. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She waves a hand dismissively and turns around, ignoring me since I still haven’t moved.

“What’s his name? Let me at least run a background check on him.”

“No,” she says into the interior of the shack.

“Fine. Here’s your money.” I hand her a twenty.

“Would it make you feel better to know that he also started coming here regularly to harass me?” She pouts dramatically.

“So, he’s a stalker. Great. Real good role model for Dec.”

Her eyes narrow again, the same way they do every time I mention her brother.

“Fuck off, Sheriff.”

* * *

I planned to spend the day in the office. I didn’t want anything to keep me from the emergency hearing regarding Declan’s case. It’ll be dismissed, there’s no doubt in my mind but I want to be there to hear it myself.

Unfortunately, someone called in and requested a parole check on Second Chance Sanctuary and now I’m driving deep into the mountains on the other side of the county to waste my time.

Lochlan Dane, the owner of a black bear sanctuary, employs convicted felons but is nothing but above board. Each of these checks is time-consuming and unnecessary because he keeps his boys in line.

I pull through the gates to his property and the grizzly of a man greets my vehicle before I can put it in park. If I didn’t know better, someone like Lochlan would normally keep my spine locked and my defenses on alert, but the 6’6 giant of a man has been nothing but respectful toward me since I’ve had the badge. He’s had a rough history with law enforcement and I wouldn’t judge him for holding a grudge, but luckily, we’ve never had any issues.

“Mr. Dane, sorry to come out here and disturb your day. We had another anonymous call to check on the parolees.” I shake his hand, not bothering to waste any time with ego checks.

“I figured. The guys are in the barn.” He accompanies me down to one of the larger barns on the property and stands idle while I do what I need. Weapons checks, drug checks, the usual. As with each time, there are no issues, but checking their bunks and living spaces is time-consuming. It takes me half the afternoon.

“Thanks for your cooperation, as always. Hopefully, I won’t see you for a while.” I turn to get back in my cruiser, already calculating how fast I need to drive to make it back to the courthouse in time but he clears his throat, stopping me.

“We’ve had some issues with harassment, not sure it’s a problem but since you’re here.” He shrugs, not giving much of anything else away. He’s a man of few words but I understand his language.

“Violent?”

“Not yet.”

“What’s happened so far?”

“Hate mail. Garbage is being thrown over the fences. One night on the farther side of the property it sounded like someone was trying to pull one of the gates down with a tow chain. They were gone by the time we got there but they left the broken chain behind.”

“You have any idea who it is?”

“We aren’t short on enemies, Sheriff. Anyone who hates what we stand for has made it known.”

I look at him, slightly puzzled, because I wasn’t aware he was receiving any backlash. He rehabilitates felons and bears, it’s not exactly devious.

He notices my confusion and enlightens me. “People in town don’t like rubbing elbows with felons. They hate that I have the largest property in Langston and they don’t get to profit off of it. They hate that they can’t exploit the bears.”

“Ah. Well, you’re doing everything right in my eyes. I’ve got your back if things get worse. If anything else happens document it the best you can. Get some cameras if you don’t have any but call me if there’s a new incident. I’ll keep an official log and if the harassment becomes a bigger issue, we’ll nail down who is responsible.”

He seems surprised by my response. His eyes widen subtly but he quickly covers it and reaches out to shake my hand. “Appreciate it, Sheriff.”

By the time I make it back into town, I’ve broken multiple speed limits. After a quick pit stop in my office, I’m in the clear to get to the courthouse. To Natalie.

Not that she cares if I’m there, but I’ll feel better being there when she hears the bad news. I might have to stop her from hitting someone.

As I pull my office door closed and lock it, I immediately feel someone’s eyes on the back of my head.

“Sheriff, there you are!” The chipper voice belongs to one singular person and I am not in the mood for fake niceties.

“Mrs. Porter.” I acknowledge her with a nod but continue walking past her toward the elevator. I should take the stairs then I’d lose her quickly.

“I know you’re a busy man but I wanted to let you know some exciting news.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” She follows me into the elevator.

“My son is running for Mayor.”

“Of Lawson?” The current mayor is a long-timer who will probably be strong in his position for a few more years. It’d be a losing battle to run against him.

“No, no. Langston.”

“Ah. Okay.” It’s the smallest populated city in the county but has the largest land area. Langston is where I just was at the sanctuary, and Thomas Jameson’s farm was. They were practically neighbors, if you can call it that, with miles between them.

“I would love it if you could back him. Show your support since his daddy is no longer with us.”

We’ve made it outside the Sheriff’s Department building and I’m striding across the walkway to the courthouse when her statement stuns me immobile. Why she would think I would ever align myself with her late husband is beyond me.

“Mrs. Porter-”

“Vanessa, please.”

“Vanessa. No.” That’s the nicest way I could put it.

“What?” She gapes at me like a fish.

“I cannot back your son. I do not know him, nor do I care to get involved with politics. I will not be backing anyone’s campaign.”

She doesn’t like my answer, her shoulders square and her chest rises with displeasure. “Your position is an elected position. I hope you realize the impact this will make.”

That gets me moving again. “I don’t think it will and honestly, I don’t care,” I shout loud enough for her to hear because this time she doesn’t follow me. I have more important places to be.