Some risks were worth taking.
And Warren Beckford was worth every one of them.
So Jude kissed him again, laughter breaking through the tears.
“Now,” he whispered, tugging him close, “let me show you what they don’t teach in Physical Education.”
Epilogue
For What it’s Worth
Worthbridge had a way of softening in winter.
The wind still bit at the skin, sharp and salt-heavy off the channel, but the harbour glowed with borrowed warmth. Lanterns strung from railings, fairy lights looped across boat masts, and music drifted from the Dog and Duck terrace where locals crowded under outdoor heaters, faces red from drink and cold.
A brass band played something that might have beenAuld Lang Syneif you squinted and wished hard enough. The smell of hot cider and vinegar chips hung in the air, with Mandy fromOh My Cod!Handing out free samples. Somewhere, a child cried because they’d dropped their sparkler, and two others argued over who’d stolen the last churro.
It was chaos.
And, also, perfect.
Jude stood at the water’s edge, leaning into Warren’s side as the tide whispered against the shore. Every so often, Warren slipped his hand beneath Jude’s jacket, beneath the soft knit of his jumper, stroking his fingertips over the tattoo inked along Jude’s lower back. It had once been a mark of compliance. Now,it was something else entirely. Survival. Freedom. Reclamation. The moment he’d stopped being someone’s prisoner and started being his own man. And when Warren’s touch followed the line of the ink, either his fingers or his tongue, it reminded Jude that he wasn’t bound anymore. That he was still here.
Healing.
Jude leaned into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of Warren’s breath beside the rhythm of the sea, he knew wasn’t chained to his past anymore. He’d learned to live with it.
Warren was his calm. His sea.
Above them, the sky bruised into indigo and smoke, the air carrying the faint crackle of laughter from the crowd behind them. Hisotherpeople. The ones who had become his friends. His family. His home.
Nathan and Freddie were easy to spot, with Nathan towering above the crowd, his arm looped around Freddie’s shoulders while Tilly darted between them, sparkler fizzing gold in the cold air. Piper stood nearby with the baby bundled against her chest, and Collette, Freddie’s mum, handed out good spirits for the season in the form of handmade winter wreaths, of which she charged a price for. Then Jude noted Lily Roberts from his Year Ten history class, edging closer to Alfie by the railings. Alfie had his hood up, hands wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate, doing a terrible job of pretending he didn’t notice how close she’d come.
Jude smiled.
“Place scrubs up alright for a backwater,” Warren said, voice low against Jude’s hair. His breath came with that familiar warmth of spiced cider and mint gum. “Almost romantic.”
“Almost?” Jude turned his head, smiling up at him. “You saying the fairy lights aren’t doing it for you?”
“They’d do more if I wasn’t freezing my arse off.”
“City boy.” Jude smirked. “You’ve gone soft.”
“Correction.” Warren brushed his nose against Jude’s temple. “I’ve gone local.”
The fireworks crew on the pier shouted something about a two-minute countdown. Across the water, Reece stood with Trent tucked against his side, the two of them sharing one steaming cup between them. Trent rested his head on Reece’s shoulder, cheeks flushed with cold and quiet contentment, while their mates—Dev, Niko, and Rory—stood nearby, already three sheets to the wind. They were belting out some half-forgotten anthem, laughing between verses as they pointed toward the fire crew on standby. Reece, for once, was out of uniform and off duty, and by the look of him, perfectly happy to stay that way.
It felt as though Worthbridge had gathered every familiar face Jude had come to know and set them all here tonight, beneath the lights, to prove that after everything, they’d made it. Smiles and waves met him from every direction, small gestures landing with quiet weight. Reminders that he wasn’t alone anymore. That this little seaside town hadn’t turned its back on him when the truth came out. And it had. Not every part of it, but enough for people to look at him differently. Strangely, not as a failure, or a victim. But as a survivor. And that somehow, against the odds, he’d found something here feeling a lot like family.
“Feels strange,” Jude said quietly. “A month ago we were in courtrooms and police stations. Now everyone’s… normal again.”
Warren followed his gaze. “Normal’s a stretch. But it’s peace. We’ll take that.”
Jude tilted his head, studying him. “You still thinking about it?”
“Always.” Warren rubbed his thumb absently over Jude’s gloved knuckles.
Even after handing in his resignation was done, dusted and final, he was still tethered to the job. Those same steady handstouching Jude each night still had a finger in the SEROCU pie, feeding him quiet updates on the investigation and what came next.
