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“I can’t. I’ll lose everything.”
“Because people will find out the county sheriff has been fucking around with men? Your pride is more important than the safety of the public? Because this guy sounds like a menace, and he will hurt someone else. You know he will, Seamus. You’re not an idiot. Didn’t you make some sort of solemn promise to protect the citizens when you pinned on that badge? You owe it to the people who voted for you because they believed you’d protect them. So do it. Because if you don’t level up and make that call, I will.”
Seamus let out a long, low growly noise that, in the past, would have made Josiah quail with fear and the anticipation of retaliation for whatever wrong thing he’d done. Tonight, Josiah stood and palmed his cell phone, squared his shoulders, and held Seamus’s gaze. He didn’t back down, not about this. Not ever again.
“I’ve got no proof it was Dale who hit me,” Seamus said. “I didn’t actually see his vehicle.”
“Well, you weigh at least two-twenty, so unless Dale knows a miracle body mechanic who’s open late on Sunday, there’s going to be proof on his car. Dents for sure, if not blood or hair. The longer you wait, the farther away he’s going to get.”
“When did you become a cop?”
“From bingeing true crime documentaries while you were at work. Make the call.”
Seamus stared at him for a moment more, obviously at war with himself, before pulling out his phone. He even showed Josiah the screen so he saw Seamus had typed in 911, then hit the call button. Put the phone to his ear. “Yeah, this is Sheriff Seamus McBride. I need to report a hit-and-run.”
Josiah stood and walked to the front window, content that Seamus was doing this. He half listened as Seamus gave them the address and answered a few other questions, and checked his own phone. Two texts from Michael, both asking where he was and if he was all right, and to please call him. He stepped outside and called Michael back.
“Hey, are you okay?” Michael asked, his voice slightly panicked. “Where did you go?”
On a regular day, Josiah might have been annoyed at Michael questioning his choice to go out by himself, but today was far from regular. “Seamus called. He needed a ride home from the hospital.”
“He what? Why the hell did he call you?”
“It’s a long story that I promise I will tell you all about later. I’m going to stay with him until the authorities get here, and then I’ll come home.”
“Are you sure you’re safe with him? I can come wherever you are.”
“I’m safe. He’s not a threat to me anymore.”
“Okay. I trust you. You trust me, too, right?”
“Of course.”
“Okay, because I am not getting back with Kenny under any circumstances. Him staying the night is for convenience, and so I can be with Rosco for a little while. He is not staying here with me, even if he decides not to leave town right away.”
His heart warmed with the declarations. Even though he loved Michael and believed Michael loved him back, a tiny part of Josiah had worried Michael would be taken in by his ex’s woes and the temptation of his beloved dog. Everything Michael just said buried those small fears beneath trust and hope.
“I believe you. I’ll text you when I’m on my way home. Hopefully it won’t be long.”
“I’ll be here with hot cocoa at the ready.”
“Perfect.” Josiah kind of wanted to end the call with “I love you” but over the phone wasn’t the way he wanted to say it for the first time. It could wait a bit longer. “See you soon.”
“Yeah.”
Josiah went back inside to wait for what he hoped would be state police. While they were still within the county, the sheriff couldn’t really investigate his own assault. And when the cops learned about Dale assaulting Josiah, that investigation would likely be handed over, too. Best guesses, anyway, since he really didn’t know how all that stuff worked. He was simply grateful to know his bogeyman had a name and would, he hoped, be behind bars soon.
He was more than ready for this nightmare to end and his life with Michael to truly, fully begin.
Michael wanted to scream, weep, and rage all at once while Josiah filled him in on everything over two mugs of steaming cocoa, which they drank at the trailer’s table for privacy. Rosco napped at Michael’s feet, oblivious to the emotional goings-on above, as content to be with Michael as Michael was to have him close by. Even if only for a little while.
He only had a few scraps of sympathy for Seamus McBride and his unfortunate past with this Dale guy. No one deserved to be abused, but instead of saying “I won’t carry on this legacy of anger and physical retaliation,” McBride had turned around and done the same thing to Josiah. He’d known who hurt Josiah for weeks and said nothing, until finally doing the right thing and telling someone.
Too bad it had taken being creamed by a car for McBride to see the light.
“I hope he doesn’t expect us to be friends with him now,” Michael said.
“No, he doesn’t. I told him as much earlier. That we’d never be friends. But we don’t have to be enemies anymore. I want to move forward, not stay stuck in the past.”
