“You can’t… run off… like that,” he says, gasping between words. “Might not… be safe!”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, looking up at him as I stand with Daisy cuddled to my chest. “I had to make sure they were okay.”
Brooks scoops me into his arms in turn, and we’re like amassive snowman of alpha, omega, lamb piled on top of one another. He buries his nose in my neck, inhaling my scent, and Daisy takes the opportunity to nibble at the hair that’s escaped from his bun. Then he shuffles me until he can hold me against him with one arm to pull out his phone, tapping it quickly.
“I got her,” Brooks says. “She’s fine.”
I can hear Riley’s sigh of relief in the background as Neveah says, “Might be best to keep her back there for a bit.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, raising my voice to be heard.
A moment of silence greets me, then Vee speaks again. “A warning next time I’m on speaker would be great, big guy.”
Brooks grimaces. “Yeah, sorry about that.”
Vee sighs. “They hit the shop, too. Just graffiti on the outside, though. No actual damage. Riley is going to check the community garden. The barn and lambs are okay?”
I didn’t actually stop to check the outside, so I shrug when Brooks looks to me for confirmation.
“The babies are good,” I say, as Brooks turns—still with me in his arms—to check the outside. “And it looks like the outside is clear. They must not have come this far onto the property.”
“Thank goodness for that,” Vee says. “We’ll pick up those cameras today. Motion sensor ones that can notify us if anyone’s here.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Brooks
“We’ll support you in whatever you decide to do,” Vee says, running her hand through Sage’s wild hair. She posted on the farm’s social media page that it’s closed today due to unforeseen circumstances—an understated way of putting it—and I rescheduled all of my landscaping jobs.
“You have every right to press charges,” the sheriff says. “We have clear video footage from outside the shop showing their vehicle. Even with their faces covered, their height and builds match, and we got their license plate, so it’s enough.”
“What would it mean to press charges?” Riley asks, their voice hard.
“We’ll take everyone’s statements, including yours,” he nods to me, “about what happened here as well as when you were at work yesterday. We can also make a note of your history with them, miss. If you want to press charges for any past incidents, we can do that too. Although truthfully—and I hate to say this—but realistically, there’s likely not much we can do since you didn’t file any reports or go to the hospital with injuries in the past.”
I hold back a growl, and Sage reaches out to take my hand. I don’t know if she’s seeking to comfort me, or to be comforted. Perhaps both. Riley is standing back with their arms crossed tightly over their chest, and I glance at them with worry.
“If you press charges, you’d have enough to file for a temporary restraining order as well,” the sheriff finally concludes his monologue.
I perk up at that, Riley’s demeanor momentarily forgotten. A restraining order would be good, and Sage echoes my thoughts.
“That would be good, I think. A restraining order. What happens if they violate it?”
“Depends, but it is a crime, and it would compound on top of this one. Each time they break the law from here forward, they’re digging themselves a bigger hole.”
Sage takes a deep, steadying breath, and I squeeze her hand for reassurance.
“I think I’d like to do that,” she says. “I want to press charges. Then get a restraining order.”
Riley heads into town later that day to pick up some security cameras, then I help install them while Vee keeps Sage distracted.
“Is this even going to do anything?” Riley asks.
They’re on the ladder above me, attaching a camera to the corner of the porch roof while I hold the ladder steady and pass screws up to them.
“Not if they’re determined, but at least it’ll give us a warning. And more video evidence if they do decide to violate the restraining order.”
Riley shakes their head, jaw clenched so hard I’m worried they’ll chip a tooth.
