She nodded, closed the door to release the chain, then opened it again. “What’s this about?” she asked, but deep down, she knew. She’d grown up with cops. Her father had been a detective, and her brother had followed in his footsteps. Even without introductions, she recognized the captain’s insignia and the chaplain’s collar. There was only one thing that would bring them to a family member’s door this late.
“This isn’t a good time.” She waved toward the kitchen. “I’ve got something in the oven.”
It was a lie, but she’d say anything to make them go away.
“We’ll only be a few minutes,” the captain assured her. “May we come in?”
Short of refusing and slamming the door in their faces, she opened it wider and waved them inside.
“I’m Chaplain Roberts,” the older of the two said. “You may not remember me. It’s been a while, and the circumstances weren’t good. It is with sincere regret that circumstances have me knocking on your door once again.”
Memory slammed into her. Twenty-two months earlier, the same man, with the same chaplain’s patch on his sleeve, had delivered the news of her parents’ deaths. She swayed, bracing against the door.
“It’s Ethan,” she stated, wasting no time with a question his grim-faced expression and all the other clues had already answered.
The captain nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
Her world tilted. “What happened?” she whispered.
“We’re still investigating,” he explained, clearly hedging. “He stumbled upon a drug cache. His actions prevented millions’ worth from reaching the streets—”
“Specifically,” Emily cut in. “What happened to him?”
The chaplain’s mouth tightened. “I don’t think it’s necessary—”
“It is,” she insisted. “I need to know.”
He hesitated, eyes flicking to the captain. When the man gave a slight nod, he relented. “Your brother was shot in the chest. By the time help arrived… I’m sorry.”
That Ethan died bravely while protecting his community wasn’t surprising but brought her little consolation. She couldn’t pick up the phone and call a dead hero or turn to him for support on the upcoming anniversary of their parents’ death. No more holidays, none of the cream-filled puffedpastries he loved on his birthday, no brother in the crowd on her graduation day, and her future children would never know their amazing uncle.
His selfless sacrifice didn’t bring her any comfort. If anything, it pissed her the hell off because it robbed her of her only remaining family.
The crushing weight of sorrow caused her knees to wobble. Over the pounding of her heart, she heard a car door slam. Heavy footsteps thudded on the sidewalk. She didn’t bother looking up; they didn’t belong to Ethan. He was gone.
“What the hell, Cap? I left you a message asking you to wait until I got here.”
“Sorry, Yarborough. I got nothing.”
Strong arms swept her up and carried her to the couch. Instead of setting her down, Alec sank with her in his lap, holding her close. He pressed his lips to her hair, his voice raw as he whispered, “I wanted to be here when you found out.”
Through her tears, Emily met his troubled blue eyes. Alec. Ethan’s best friend since childhood.
“First Mama and Daddy, now... I can’t do this,” she whispered brokenly. “Not again. Not alone.”
His embrace tightened. “You’re not alone, sweetheart. You’ve got me—whenever and however you need me. I promise.”
Gratitude surged with anguish. She clung to him, fingers fisting his coat as if it could hold her together. He’d been protective of her since she was a girl. The white knight of her dreams—steadfast and sure—but even he couldn’t shield her from the agony of loss.
His breath warmed her neck, his body solid and real, a fragile comfort amid the devastation. But she couldn’t ignore the hard press of his service weapon digging into her breast—a stark reminder of the badge he carried. Identical to Ethan’s. If it could steal her brother and father away from her, it could steal him too.
He rocked her, whispering words she couldn’t hear over her grief. Not only for Ethan’s loss but for the fear that someday men in uniform would come to her door again—this time for Alec, the boy she’d loved since pigtails and scraped knees.
When that day came, she’d truly be alone. How would she survive?
What control she had left gave way. With a wrenching sob, Emily buried her face in his neck as the floodgates opened.
Chapter 2
