Hetch (Men OF S.W.A.T. #1)

“Well, right now, I’m listening to my best friend tell me about her messed-up life.”


“Don’t deflect. You and I both know this can’t be good.”

I love my brother, but I’ll never be okay with what he did. Not only did he cheat on Payton, but he also walked out when she finally confronted him. Left her and Arabella for the skanky little whore.

“Can we can talk about it later?” she whispers so only I can hear. I decide to leave it be, and not push. If there’s one thing I know about Payton, it’s that there’s a fine line when it comes to getting her to open up. Cross it and she will only close up tighter.

“Later,” I repeat, knowing my later and Payton’s are so far apart. It will be weeks before I get any more info from her.

“Thanks, B. Now tell me what happened next.”

I continue my story, telling her everything from the moment I went to bed, down to the army crawl, to hiding in the shower. I even admitted to the low blow of sleeping out on my sofa. After she spends far too long reliving my horror with too much glee, I come up with a plan to write a note letting him know he needs to keep it down and mind his manners.

Payton’s not sold on it.

“Trust me. I guarantee we’ll be laughing about it next week over drinks on our girls' night out. Give it a few days. All will blow over, and your humiliation will fade with it,” she promises.

I’m not sure if I can see that happening, but wanting to be done with the conversation, I let her words reassure me and tell her I won’t leave it.

“Yeah, we’ll see. Anyway, I’ll let you go. Give my shithead big brother a hug for me.”

“Will do. Love you, girl.”

“You too.” I hang up, dropping my phone back on my coffee table. I don’t bother trying to head back to my bedroom; instead, the rest of my night is filled with lumpy sofa cushions, a small, scratchy pillow, and one sexy, mystery man who follows me into my dreams, telling me to wait for him.



Hey, douche bag, maybe keep it down.



I read over the note written in my neat handwriting and cringe at my choice of words.

“Oh, God, that’s terrible,” I tell myself and tear off the piece of paper, scrunch it up into a ball, and drop it into the trash bin beside my desk.

It’s been seventy-two hours and I still can’t find the right words.

Thinking it over for another few minutes, I start again.



I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I can hear you fuck.



Ugghh, that’s worse.

“Ahhh excuse me, Liberty, your mom is here to see you.” My eyes move off the crude note I’m working on to find Renee, the newest member of our team, my mother and my niece at the door of my office at Boys Haven.

“What’s wrong, Mom?” I stand almost instinctively. She knows she can’t just turn up here unannounced. While Boys Haven isn’t as strict as some of the other group homes I have worked in the past, we do have structured visitor rules for privacy reasons.

“Working on your day off, how shocking.” She steps past Renee, ignoring my panicked question.

“I’m sorry, Liberty. She said it was urgent. I thought ‘cause you’re on your day off….” Renee offers in explanation.

“Thanks, Renee, I’ll sort it out.” I step forward, motioning my mother and niece into my office before closing the door behind me.

“Seriously, Mom. You can’t show up here unannounced.” While my office here at Boys Haven is not part of the main residential quarters, I still don’t like to receive visitors. As program director, I take my job seriously, but I’m also very hands on. I don’t like to mix my personal life with my work life.

“Well, maybe if you answered your phone and stopped ignoring me, I wouldn’t have to drop in to see my only daughter.” She takes a seat across from my desk, making herself comfortable.

“I’m not ignoring—” I start to argue, but abandon that route when her eyes roll back at me the same way my younger self did to her fifteen years ago.

Deciding I need to rush this impromptu visit along, I take a seat back at my desk and motion for Arabella to come to me.

“Hey, sweet girl, how are you today?” I lean forward and kiss her milky white forehead. The amber curls, which match her mother’s, sit on top of her head, sticking out in all directions.

“Good. Nana said bad word.” Arabella turns and points her cute chubby finger at my mom.

“Did she now? Well, isn’t she a naughty nana.” I throw a smirk Mom’s way.

“Uh huh. She called Daddy a bad word.”

“Okay, that’s enough kid. Don’t go telling all my secrets.” Mom cuts her off before she can spill anything else.

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