I Do With You (Maple Creek)

Chapter 20 BEN

Chapter 20

B EN

I’ve gone through the gamut of emotions—starting with anger, looping around to resolve, making a pass through indignation, and even having a short stay in petty revenge. But now boredom has officially set in.

The floor got cold, so I’m perched on the too-narrow bench, and as I thought, my handcuffed hands are smashed against the wall. But if anyone’s curious, there are 83,147 spots in the drop ceiling acoustic tiles over the holding cell.

“Taylor!” a deep voice shouts from somewhere up front, and though I can’t see the yeller, I know who it is: Hope sent the calvary in the form of her dad.

Unless he’s here to do the unofficial Maple Creek greeting himself, bruises included free of charge. But I don’t think so.

When we had lunch with the Barlowes, he was understandably wary of me and concerned about Hope, but he seemed certain that she has a good head on her shoulders and a too-big heart in her chest. When he told me to take extra care with both, I answered that I fully intended to, and I was being completely honest. It was a sort of no-handshake deal I made—not with the devil, but with someone much more dangerous: a father who’ll protect his little girl, no matter how old she gets.

“Back here, Mr. Barlowe!” I answer, smiling in relief. A county holding cell isn’t exactly the big house, but it’s been a while since I’ve been locked up, and I’m having some unpleasant flashbacks of juvie, so I’m ready to make bail before Sheriff Laurier comes back to do a cavity search.

Mr. Barlowe’s head pops around the corner first, followed by his booted feet as he comes into the open area of deputies’ desks. “Told you that you can call me Jim. You been processed or anything?”

I shake my head. “Nope. Got thrown in here with an added gravity check by Sheriff Laurier, and it’s been radio silence ever since.”

A muscle in Jim’s cheek twitches. “Sonofabitch. That guy’s such an asshole.” He doesn’t even look around to see who might hear him insult the much-feared sheriff. That’s how solid Jim is. Not because he’s the biggest, burliest, scariest man in any room either. He’s just made of integrity and righteousness, with a belief system that good always triumphs eventually, and if it hasn’t, the battle’s not over. And to him, the fact is ... Sheriff Laurier is an asshole, so saying it aloud shouldn’t be an issue. “What about Roy?”

“Leeson told Eli that he’d bring him in, but I haven’t seen them. His daddy went storming out of here about two hours ago, though.”

Shepherd comes up behind Jim, his face buried in his phone as he says, “Word is, they’re at the hospital in Glendale, getting Roy’s nose checked out. You totally broke it.” He comes forward to fist-bump me through the bars, but I show him my handcuffs.

“Gravity checks don’t work as well if you can put your hands out,” I explain, and I watch realization dawn on Jim’s face.

“You okay, son?” he says, low and hard. He makes it clear my answer is important to him.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just ready to get out of here and back to Hope. Is she all right?”

Shepherd answers, “She’s spiraling. Short version—she told Roy off, chased after you, broke down in tears, filled us in on what happened, proclaimed her undying love for you, and then declared that she was marching down here to rescue you and nobody could stop her. We barely managed to hold her off by coming ourselves. Mostly because she would’ve come in guns a’blazing and gotten herself arrested too. Would’ve been right there, tapping her toe and demanding to speak to Judge Silverthorn herself.” He points to the bench, looking downright giddy at that imagery. I think he probably wishes he could’ve seen that.

Wait. Did he say ... Hope loves me?

There’s no way that’s what she said. We only met days ago, and she’s been through so much. I know there’s something huge and intense between us, but she’s not a woman who throws around her heart that easily. And more importantly, she wouldn’t entrust someone like me with it for anything more than a rebound.

That’s what she called it. Called me. And I can be that for her. Or a vacation fling, if she still wants to come to California.

But I’d sure as fuck like to be more. A lot more. I’d love to be her everything.

Confessions of a sinner, unworthy, unloved, abused. Never enough for anyone. Until you.

“She said ...?” I question, wanting to be sure I didn’t imagine that.

Jim clears his throat and glares at Shepherd, backhanding him in the gut. “That’s between the two of you. Shut up, son.” And then he looks around, getting back to the business at hand. “Let me find someone to get you out of here.” Cupping his hand to his mouth, he bellows, “Hellooooo?”

A door opens somewhere, and then Deputy Eli reappears. “Can I help you?” he asks Jim, who lifts his brows sharply and points at me with a dead stare.

“Yeah, you can let him out. Now.”

Eli sighs, holding his hands out wide. “Jim, I wish I could. But the sheriff said to hold him the full twenty-four.”

Shepherd holds up his phone, waving it back and forth tauntingly. From what I can see, it’s a frozen image of the place where Hope and I had lunch. “Might want to check in on that order because the whole town’s seen Roy start that shit. If word gets out that you’re holding a tourist on falsified charges to hide the fact that the sheriff’s wittle baby boy has anger management issues that seem to come straight from his daddy’s teat, given he stone-cold tripped my friend here, well ... I’d hate to have my name attached to that lawsuit.” Snapping his fingers like he just remembered something, he adds, “Hey, Ben, didn’t you say you’ve got some fancy-schmancy LA lawyer that handles your business stuff?”

I said no such thing. Shepherd’s making shit up on the fly, including a big assumption that if I’m a business consultant, I must have a lawyer. Although the truth is, I do have one who reviews contracts for me. Like the one with AMM Records, which he assured me was a standard contract that needed no addendums, changes, or pushback. I believed him then. I don’t now, and wouldn’t hire him to read a magazine for me. He also wouldn’t bother with something like this, but I bet he has a criminal lawyer pal who would. For me, especially.

I don’t think that’s going to be necessary, though, because Deputy Eli looks downright green. “I know,” he hisses, scanning the room like someone might hear him speak out against his boss. “You think I haven’t seen the video? Marcus told me about it before we even got to the station.”

That must’ve been the phone call he took in the car. I wonder how he knows the boat-tour operator, but in small towns, it’s probably a case of everyone knowing everyone or being one degree of Kevin Bacon away from knowing them.

“Yeah, Deputy Eli,” I say conversationally, “how do I go about pressing charges against Roy Laurier for assault? Oh, and of course, Sheriff Laurier, Deputy Leeson, you, and the entirety of the Wilson County Sheriff’s Department for conspiracy to kidnap, false imprisonment, and excessive use of force.” I let every bit of darkness I possess bleed into that threat as I dramatically overstate the severity of everything that’s happened.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath.

Am I going to do any such thing? No. But I could, which gets me back to the trash-talking. Don’t write checks you can’t cash, and while I don’t want to go to the bank, I will if I have to so that I can get the fuck out of here and back to Hope.

We have some things beyond a trip to California to discuss. Like if she loves me. And what my job actually is, because it’s sure as fuck not business consulting.

I can see the war raging in Eli’s eyes. He doesn’t agree with what the sheriff did or is doing, but he also doesn’t want to lose his job. Finally, his own morals win out. “If I lose my badge for this, I’m coming at you, Barlowe.”

Jim nods tersely, taking that challenge, and offers Eli a handshake. About ten seconds later, I’m free, from the cell and the handcuffs.

“I’m pretty sure my lawyer helped you understand the possible ramifications here, and you did a good job looking out for the department’s—and the sheriff’s—best interests,” I tell Eli as I shake his hand, too, adding a hint of hard asshole to my tone. I was never offered a phone call, but it’ll help him to have a cover story if shit hits the fan with Laurier.

We walk straight out the front door, and I take a big breath of fresh air. I’ve never been outdoorsy, but I’m feeling like outside is exactly where I want to be. A bit of sunshine, freedom, and a woman I need to see ... right now.

“You really gonna do any of that?” Jim asks me, his eyes narrowed as he takes my measure.

“What? Sue?” I clarify. When he nods, I say, “No, just offering a different perspective for Deputy Eli.”

I decide to interpret his answering grunt as approval.

“If you went after Shep and showed him up the way you did Roy, I can’t honestly say that I wouldn’t have done a whole lot more than a gravity check on you.” His lips twitch as he fights off a grin.

I think that’s Jim’s way of telling me good job on knocking Roy down a peg or two.

Shepherd makes a noise of disbelief. “Pssshaw, you wouldn’t have shown me up.” He does some fancy footwork with his fists lifted into a guard position. “I got skills and thrills, make the girls go—”

“Ill?” I interrupt to suggest, and he whips his head my way. His anger at the insult is quickly replaced by a good-natured laugh when I remind him, “Hockey’s different than street fighting, as we’ve established.”

“Man, that shit with Roy wasn’t even a street fight. Did you see his punch?” Shepherd slow-motion mimes the horrible punch, complete with sci-fi-esque sound effects and his thumb tucked into his fist like some sort of catfight punch-slap. In Shepherd’s mind, that’s probably one of the worst, most serious insults he can give, but Roy wasn’t quite that bad. Not much better, but he did at least have his thumb on the outside of his fist.

“What about Roy?” Jim asks, sticking with facts rather than insults.

I think about that for a second. The younger me would’ve hunted him down, fucked him up, and made sure he knew not to come around again. I’d like to think I’m not only older but also wiser. Plus, I have significantly more to lose now. I’m not a broke-ass kid with a too-busy mom who can spend a few months in juvie and be out.

I have a life, one I don’t want to fuck up, especially right as it’s getting so much better.

“That’s up to Hope. I don’t have any issues with Roy beyond her, and it sounds like she’s handling herself just fine. I’m happy to be her backup support system and let her lead on this. If she needs me to step in, I will.”

“Good answer, son. That’s pretty much what I’ve been doing my whole life, with Lorie and then with the kids,” Jim shares as he claps me on the back.

It takes my breath away, not because he put any power behind the slap, but because I’m struck with a loss I never even realized I experienced. It was always me and Mom, and I never gave my absentee father a second thought. Why would I when he didn’t give me one? But right here, in front of the sheriff’s department where Jim Barlowe went to bat for me, a virtual stranger, because his daughter feels some type of way about me, I figure out what a father is supposed to be.

Maybe what a man is supposed to be.

I don’t know if Hope realizes just how lucky she is, but I do. And I’ll not only protect her, I’ll protect the Barlowes ... even if it’s from me.