Page 231 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

Barely more than a sleepy breath. She never opened her eyes. She only pressed herself closer, her fingers tightening against my chest before relaxing again. A smile threatened the corner of my mouth. Fuck she was beautiful. Mine.

The vibration of my phone shattered the silence. Once. Twice. Then a third time. Duty. It always knew exactly when to interrupt. I sighed quietly before silencing the call.

"You've got terrible timing," I muttered under my breath.

Carefully, I untangled myself from her arms. The moment my body left the mattress, she frowned in her sleep, reaching blindly across the sheets until her hand found my pillow instead. Only then did she settle.

I dressed in silence, pulling on yesterday's jeans before holstering my weapon at my hip. My badge slid into place almost automatically, muscle memory taking over where my mind refused to cooperate. When I reached the bedroom door, I looked back. She hadn't moved. Still curled into my side of the bed. Still sleeping. For the first time since I'd met her… She looked completely safe.

I didn't realise I was smiling until I caught my reflection in the dark window. That smile belonged to her.

The old floorboards creaked beneath my boots as I stepped into the hallway. Another set of footsteps followed. Heavy. Measured. I glanced down.

Max. The giant shepherd padded silently beside me, stopping every time I stopped, watching me with those impossibly intelligent eyes. I crouched beside him near the front door, scratching behind one ear.

"Stay with her."

His ears twitched.

"Don't let anybody near this house."

A quiet huff. I rested my forehead briefly against his. My voice caught.

"Protect her."

Max nudged my hand with his nose before giving one deliberate wag of his tail. Good. I trusted him more than most deputies. One last glance toward the bedroom. Then I stepped outside. The cold morning air hit my face immediately. Blackridge was finally quiet.

For now.

The Sheriff's station felt different. Lighter. Walker's shadow had finally begun to lift. Deputies moved through the bullpen carrying evidence boxes instead of body bags. Evidence boards were coming down one by one, photographs disappearing into archive folders instead of multiplying across the walls.

Walker's office stood open. Empty. His nameplate gone, desk stripped clean. Like he'd never existed. The county was trying to forget him. Counties never forget men like Walker. They just learned to live around the scars. I had barely crossed the bullpen when the front doors swung open.

Mayor Sinclair walked inside.

He looked like he'd aged ten years over the past month, exhaustion carved into every line of his face. The moment he spotted me, relief softened his expression. He crossed the room with purpose, extending his hand.

"Detective Reed." Sinclair said, shaking my hand firmly. "I wanted to come down here personally. Thank you. For everything you did out there. This town owes you a debt it can't easily repay."

"I was just doing the job, Mayor," I replied flatly.

Sinclair glanced around the bullpen before looking back at me.

"Walker poisoned this department," he said quietly. "Collins tore the rest of it apart. The people don't trust the badge anymore."

His eyes settled on mine.

"But they trust you."

I didn't answer.

"I need someone to rebuild this place. Someone the deputies already follow without question." He paused, letting the silence sit between us. "I want you to take the Sheriff's badge."

The words landed heavier than I expected. A month ago, I wouldn't have hesitated. This… This had been the goal. Lead the department. Run investigations my way. Build something better than the mess Walker left behind. I would've signed the paperwork before he'd even finished asking.

Now...

My thoughts drifted somewhere they had no business drifting. Dark curls spread across my pillow. Warm brown eyes. A woman was sleeping peacefully because she finally believed someone would come back for her.