“Jules…”
“What is it going to take to get this guy—”
“Jules, he’s dead.” Cal’s hands tightened on her arms, his keen blue eyes drilling into her. “He was killed by the shooter at the station when we tried to move him to a holding cell at the county facility.”
A strange buzzing filled her ears as she replayed what he’d said in her head. “Dead? Hamilton is dead?”
He nodded.
The tension inside her uncoiled a bit. “Well, then that’s good news, isn’t it? I mean, I’d rather he was incarcerated for the rest of his life rather than being killed. I’m not a monster. But…if he’s dead, he can’t bother Abby anymore, either. Or Zoey. Or any other woman.”
His cheek twitched. “Well, yeah. There’s that. But…he never actually gave the task force any names. His lawyer convinced everyone to put the negotiations and interrogation on hold because of the late hour.”
She wanted to quiz him further about Hamilton and what it meant going forward, but she could see shadows in his eyes. “Cal? There’s something else. Isn’t there? You’re so…subdued. Distracted.”
He nodded and swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple dipping.
“What…?”
“Matti was at the police station when the shooting happened.” He drew an unsteady breath. “She was in the lobby with a little boy she was moving to foster care, and—” His voice cracked, and he squeezed his eyes shut.
“Oh, no! Was she hurt?” She grabbed his sleeve, her chest constricting with dread.
He shook his head. “But the little boy was. Not seriously, but…”
She’d never seen him this upset. “Cal?”
“Sorry, I just… It was so unnerving. Seeing her holding that bleeding child. Knowingmy sistercould have been the one hurt—or worse—in that hail of bullets.”
“Thank God she wasn’t.” She sat beside him and wrapped her arms around him, trying to comfort him.
“I mean Wyatt, Dylan and I know the risks associated with our job. Even Aiden, for different reasons. We’ve kind of accepted that one of us could get injured in the line of duty, but…damn it. Not my baby sister. Not Matti. She and Kelly are…”
“Don’t you dare say something sexist and spoil my image of you, Callum Colton,” she said in a mock chiding tone.
He cut a glance at her and blinked as if needing a moment to let her jibe register.
“It sounded like you were winding up to call your sisters fragile or vulnerable or delicate or some sexist trash like that.” She stroked the side of his face and gave him a wry grin to soften her words.
His brow wrinkled, and he snorted a humorless laugh. “No. Not my sisters. They’re two of the strongest and bravest women I know. I was going to say they’re—” he pressed a hand to his chest “—special to me. I’ve always tried to look out for them, especially when we were younger. Our dad wasn’t always there when he should have been, and I tried to…fill in the gaps.”
She pulled a grin. “Hyper responsible.”
“Hmm?”
“That’s what Kelly called you earlier tonight. Classic firstborn.”
He acknowledged her reply with a sad smile before slumping back against the sofa cushions, the troubled look returning to his eyes.
After a moment, her own nurturing and tenderhearted instincts nudged her, so she asked, “How badly was the little boy hurt?”
He turned up one hand in an I-don’t-know gesture. “I’m waiting on a report from Matti. She went with him to the emergency room.” He gave her a quick side glance before staring straight ahead. “Sam, the little boy, was already so scared, having been left alone in a motel room and brought to the police station, surrounded by strangers. The shooting was the last straw for him.” The pain in his eyes said he was seeing the scene again, replaying the horror in his mind. “He was…almost catatonic. Traumatized by it all.”
She cuddled closer to him, rubbing his arm as if he were the traumatized boy. “Having been caught in a shooting myself, I can understand that. Poor little guy.”
“If that weren’t enough,” he said and grimaced, “Officer Rutledge, a guy with a wife and two kids, caught a bullet in the chest as well. He’s alive but in serious condition. Last word I had was they were taking him into surgery.”
“Oh, no! That’s terrible!”
