Called to Protect (Blue Justice #2)

Once he had a nice flame flickering, he grabbed the ever-present marshmallows and roasting sticks. “I haven’t done this in a long time.”

She smiled, nerves dancing in her belly. Before they’d found Rachel, he’d hinted at his interest in going out with her. “Is this our coffee date?”

He settled beside her and she offered him part of the blanket. “Hmm. No, we’ll save that one for later in the week, if that’s all right with you.”

“Of course.” She fell silent, then turned to lean against him. He slid an arm around her shoulders and she gave a sigh of contentment. Hank bounded back over and dropped his rope on the floor.

Blake picked it up and threw it.

“Hank will love you forever,” she said.

He gave a low chuckle.

“How’s Rachel doing?” she asked softly. This was the first time she’d seen him since rescuing the girls.

“She’s okay. Not great, but I think she’ll get there with the help of the counselor we’ve lined up.” He brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, and his touch set off the butterflies.

She cleared her throat. “Good. I’m glad.”

“How are your dreams?”

“Scary sometimes.”

Blake hugged her. “I’m sorry.”

“They’ll pass.”

Her mother knocked on the door leading to the porch, then stepped outside. Tears streaked her cheeks.

Chloe pushed away from Blake and stood. “What is it?”

“They found Penny,” she whispered. “She’s coming home.”



While the family celebrated, Blake glanced at his phone when it buzzed a third time in ten minutes.

Frank.

It’s now or maybe never, Blake.

He sighed.

“What is it?” Chloe asked. She’d slipped up to his side while he wasn’t looking.

“Nothing.”

“Right.” She turned away and he caught her hand.

“It’s my brother. Our father is dying and he wants me to come to the hospital to say my goodbyes.”

“So, why are you still here?”

“Because I hate my father and I don’t have anything to say to him. Not even goodbye.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“So will I, Dad,” Rachel said softly behind him. “You need to do this.”

Blake turned and blew out a breath while he pinched the bridge of his nose. And he knew he had to do it. I can’t forgive him, God. I know I’m supposed to, but I can’t do it. No, Blake couldn’t do it on his own. Maybe God would make it possible, though. “All right, we’ll go whenever you’re ready. I don’t want to take you away from this time of celebration, though.”

“It’s fine. I’m thrilled Penny’s coming home. She’s going to need a lot of help and care in the coming months. Probably years, but at least she’ll be here.”

“Agreed.”

Chloe took his hand and a lump formed in his throat.

“Come on, Dad,” Rachel said, “you can do this.”

He nodded. “In a few minutes.”

Linc slipped up beside them. “The cops found evidence in Miles’s house. Penny was definitely there. They found her phone slid up under a cabinet in the half bath. It also looks like she pulled out some strands of hair. DNA came back a match to her.” He shook his head.

“That’s what you get for being a part of a cop family,” Chloe said. “Anyone else in the house involved?”

“He lived alone, and while he had people working for him, they claim they had no idea the girls were being brought there for his approval. I’m leaning toward believing them. Miles was slick and covered his tracks well.”

“He just picked the wrong girl to take,” Rachel said. Fire flashed in her eyes and pride made Blake reach out and squeeze her fingers.

“Absolutely,” Linc said. “You’re the real hero in this whole thing, Rachel. Don’t ever forget it.”

“Thanks,” she whispered. Then cleared her throat. “So, are you coming to my swim meet in a couple of weeks?”

Linc grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it.” Turning serious, he eyed Blake. “How’s your dad?”

“Getting ready to go find out.”

The silent ride to the hospital didn’t take long. Blake appreciated that neither Chloe nor Rachel tried to make small talk. Instead, they let him think while he drove. Once they were on his father’s hall, Rachel hugged him and Chloe placed a light kiss on his lips. He swallowed and vowed to take her up on that hint of more to come.

Blake stepped into his father’s room and found Frank sitting in the chair next to the bed.

His brother looked up and let out a low breath. “You came.”

“Yes. For you.”

Frank nodded. “He wakes every once in a while, but less and less. The doctors think it’s a matter of days.”

“Is he in pain?”

“No. They don’t think so anyway.” Frank paused. “Why? Do you want him to be?”

Blake jerked. “No. Of course not.” He paused. “You really think I could wish that?”

“I don’t know. I did for a while. Then I came to realize that he doesn’t need me—or some disease—to punish him. He did that to himself his whole life.”

“What do you mean?”

Frank narrowed his eyes. “Do you ever remember him smiling? Did you ever once see him happy?”

“No.”

“I think it’s because he wouldn’t let himself be. Because he didn’t think he deserved it.”

“He didn’t.”

His brother ran a hand through his hair. “He’s talked a lot these past few weeks. I understand him better.”

“And that’s enabled you to feel compassion for him?”

“Yes.”

“What do you understand better?”

“Things from his childhood that he could never get past. Things like his father beating him and Uncle Greg until he feared for their lives. So much that he went to the cops, made sure Greg was safe, then left to live on his own. Things like his fear of the dark stemming from living in a storm drain and digging in trash cans for food from the time he was twelve until he was finally picked up at fourteen by a cop who got him help—and into a foster home.” He shook his head. “But the damage was done.”

Blake let the words sink in with a bitter heart. “We didn’t turn out like him. Neither did Uncle Greg. How did his brother wind up his complete opposite?”

“Greg has a different personality—not to mention he was adopted when he was six.”

Blake pressed his fingers to his eyelids. “I guess.”

“He’s suffered, Blake,” Frank said as he leaned forward and took their father’s hand in his. “I don’t want him to suffer anymore. I want him to be free of the pain of this life and to have joy and happiness in the next. I want that for him—and us. So that when we’re finally all reunited in heaven, we can have that relationship we were never able to have here on this earth.”

For some reason, Blake’s throat grew tight and his eyes burned. He pictured his dad as a little boy being beaten by his father. It wasn’t hard to bring the images to mind—or the fear and anger that went with them. He knew. He’d lived it.

“You think that’ll happen?” he asked Frank.

“I’ve talked to him about eternity and God and forgiveness. And I’ve prayed with him. I hope he understood. That he was praying along.”

“He doesn’t deserve heaven or happiness.” His words were cold, but his heart wasn’t in them.

“Who does?”

“Ouch.” The truth hurt sometimes. Blake rocked back on his heels, then walked to the window to stare out into the bleary day. He’d been angry at his dad for a very long time. “How do I let go, Frank?”

“Tell him you forgive him.”

“Even if I don’t mean it?”

“Even if. Because you will one day.”

Blake walked back to the bed and watched his father breathe. Heavy, labored drags of air that were painful to see and hear. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth.

But couldn’t force the words out. He shook his head. “You know me, Frank. I can’t say something I don’t mean.”

Frank’s eyes flashed a sadness that pierced him. “I get it,” Frank said. “Maybe one day.”

“Maybe,” Blake said and took another look at his father. “Aw, man,” he whispered. He thought about his conversation with Linc while they didn’t know if Rachel and Chloe were dead or alive. I forgive you, Dad.

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