It’s been a quiet two weeks. Austin’s convinced the cops are going to show up in the middle of the night and arrest him. I’m not so sure. The autopsy showed that Damien had weakening in his aorta. Sure, it was likely the stress of getting the absolute shit beat out of him that caused it to rupture, but the doctors are pretty sure it would have happened anyway.
Eventually.
Ireach across the console, taking Austin’s hand in mine and bringing it to my lips to kiss his knuckles. I’ve done that a lot sincethatnight. His bruises—like my own—are healing. Our hearts? That may take a little time. Austin’s especially.
The waiting game is cruel, and there’s no way to know what the prosecutor will decide to do. I can’t imagine a world where Damien wins. Not even in death.Especiallynot in death.
I place another kiss on Austin’s healing hand, then cradle it between mine in my lap. There’s a tremble in it as we pull into the parking lot of the sheriff’s department, and it breaks my heart.
He shuts off the truck, then sits there for a second, staring at the doors to the station.
I study his profile. God, I’m so in love. And I don’t even care if it makes me sound like an awful human—knowing how far he went to protect me makes me love him even more.
“Are you ready to go inside?” I ask, running my thumb over the uninjured part of Austin’s hand.
He sighs. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
We step out of the truck and walk through the doors together. Sheriff Granger stands, then waves us over. “Let’s go in here to talk.”
It’s gotta be a good sign that they haven’t arrested either of us yet.
We follow him into the small conference room, sitting when he gestures to the seats across from him. My eyes fall to the desk where there’s a file sitting. It looks thick, and something in my gut sinks. If this is the case they have against Austin, maybe we won’t get off so easily after all.
The sheriff sits down, placing his hand over the file. “We’ll start with a talk, and if you choose to look in the folder, you can. I’ve gotten permission from the victim to show you.”
The victim?
“Austin, the state is not interested in pressing charges. Between your statement and Luca’s, we have no reason to pursue charges.”
I can practically feel Austin’s relief. It mirrors my own, something heavy dropping off my shoulders that I hadn’t even realized was there.
“It was a clear case of defense of another. You’re both wearing the evidence of that.”
I resist the urge to look away and cover the fading bruise around my eye. I have nothing to be ashamed of.
“Thank you,” Austin says, voice choked and raw. “I hate that this even had to happen at all.”
Sheriff Granger nods. “I know. You’re a good boy. Upstanding citizen. I’m proud to have you in our community and in our fire department.”
Austin reaches for my hand blindly, and I give it to him, letting him use it to try to quell his trembling. “Thank you, sir.”
“Now,” he says, leaning forward. “I’ve gotta warn you. These images are graphic.”
I’m confused but vaguely curious, so I nod. “I’d like to see them, please.”
Sheriff Granger pushes the folder across the table until it’s sitting in front of us. “Luca, were you aware that Damien had a previous marriage?”
What?I shake my head. “No. I had no idea.”
He hums. “They were married for six years. Got divorced just a hair over seven years ago.”
I glance at Austin to find him just as perplexed as me. “That was right before I moved in with him. I didn’t know he was married.”
Looking back at the folder, I sit forward, then open it.
The first photo is a mugshot with a younger Damien. Thecharges are listed under his name.
Aggravated assault
