A clambering sound came from somewhere toward the back of the house, and Jackson's palm itched as he let it hover discreetly near his weapon.

"Whaaat?" A sandy-haired kid, maybe nineteen or twenty, bounded around a corner. His eyes widened when he saw Jackson, and he flicked his head, clearing a lock of hair out of his eyes.

"What game are you playing?" the older woman presumably his grandmother asked.

He rattled off the name of one of Elijah's favorite first-person shooter games, and suspicion rose up inside Jackson, along with tentative relief.

"Well turn it down! The neighbors think we're under siege."

The kid's face got red. "It's not that loud."

"The h.e.l.l it isn't. There's no reason to have the volume up that high." She turned to Jackson. "I'm a little hard of hearing, so it doesn't bother me much, but if I can hear it clearly, it must be loud."

Sound blasted from what was presumably the living room a rocket launcher going off, it sounded like.

"Window open?" Jackson asked, nodding in the direction the noise had come from.

"Yes."

"Turn it down," he said. "And look into getting a pair of gaming headphones."

The kid nodded and retreated to the living room.

"Thanks for cooperating," Jackson said to the grandmother. "Y'all have a nice day."

Afterward, he paid a quick visit to the house next door and let them know everything was okay.

In his cruiser, he made a note in his MDT. Shootings didn't happen very often on the island, and rarely during daytime. Still, it was a relief to wrap up what could've been a potentially bad call so easily.

And it was a d.a.m.n good thing the gunfire had been nothing more than a game, because that s.h.i.t bag Sanders had abandoned him. It wasn't a surprise, but it still left a sour taste in his mouth, giving him yet another reason to hate the man.

Every time Sanders appeared on his radar, it reminded him that he needed to watch his back. As he pulled away from the curb, he had a feeling he hadn't seen anything yet when it came to how s.h.i.tty Sanders could be.

Jesus. When would they get Lieutenant Aldred back? The day couldn't come soon enough.

CHAPTER 19.

Belle searched the morning after pill online and read obsessively. Some women said that it had caused them to start their periods early, and she hoped that would happen to her so she could quit wondering what if?

When three days pa.s.sed and it didn't happen, she texted Mariah on her Wednesday lunch break and asked if she could come over for a little while after work.

Mariah said yes, and Belle headed to her apartment after leaving the college, stopping along the way to pick up some beignets from a place Jackson said was good Tempest Cafe so she wouldn't feel as if she was barging in just to vent her problems.

And that wasn't the only reason for her visit, although she did want Mariah's opinion.

She also wanted to relax and just hang out with the woman who'd been her friend since childhood. Lately, she'd been spending her evenings with Jackson. He wasn't off work quite yet though, and she didn't want him to feel as if he had to spend every spare minute kissing her a.s.s just because of their accident.

He'd been so sweet to her over the past few days, she actually felt guilty.

"Hey." Mariah showed up at the door in flowy pajama pants and a tiny tank top. "Good to see you."

"Were you sleeping? G.o.d, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were back on night shift."

She waved a hand. "Actually, I'm just getting up. Your timing is perfect I get to have breakfast with my best friend before going to work."

Belle held up the bag she'd brought from Tempest. "I brought beignets."

Mariah's eyes lit up, and she ushered her inside. "Ooh, nice. I just started a pot of coffee."

They settled down at the kitchen table and ate together. It was breakfast for Mariah and an after-work snack for Belle, but the moment felt harmonious, peaceful.

"How are things going with you and Wyatt?" Belle asked, dipping a beignet into her coffee. Mariah brewed it nuclear-strong to help her through her busy shifts in the ER, and the sweetness of the doughy treat combined with the bold coffee to form an even more heavenly flavor.

"Oh, you know nonexistent." Mariah dusted crumbs from her hands and shrugged.

"Really? What happened?"

"The more I got to know him, the less I liked him. I mean, he's all right to work with, but I don't want to date him."

"When did you realize that?"

"The other night, when you and Jackson came over for dinner."

Belle froze. "I hope it wasn't our fault. I know it was awkward."

"It's not your fault at all, but let's face it: it was awkward because Wyatt was being rude. It got worse after you two left. He started talking about Jackson like he was a bad guy a corrupt cop from 1960s Chicago or something."

Belle frowned. "I guess he really dislikes cops."

"Obviously. I'm not sure why, but I was afraid he was going to start talking trash about you next, and then I would've had to smack him." Her mouth quirked into a half smile. "So I told him I'd known Jackson since I was a kid and that he was nothing like that, and that you're too smart to date anyone so beneath you. He sort of just pouted after that, and the night was pretty lame."

"Sounds like it. So are things weird between you two at work now?"

"Not really. I told him I wasn't interested in going out again, and he didn't seem all that heartbroken, to be honest."

"Well, that's good, I guess. You lied to him, though."

Mariah arched a brow. "What?"

"You told him I was too smart to date someone beneath me. I think I disproved that spectacularly with my last relationship."

Mariah rolled her eyes. "You were young. Nowadays, you are too smart to fall for a loser like that. Live and learn."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." It'd barely been a year since she and Kyle had broken up. She wished it had been longer a million years ago, preferably.

"Anyway, you chose much better this time. You and Jackson are still good for each other I could tell, even though things were a little weird the other night, thanks to Wyatt."

A smile flickered to life on Belle's lips, but she shifted in her seat as reality settled back in around her. For a few minutes, talking with Mariah had distracted her from the anxiety that'd been plaguing her all week.

Mariah arched a brow. "What's wrong?"

Belle drew a deep breath and bit her inner lip, teetering on the edge of indecision. This was a big part of the reason she'd shown up, the question she was dying to ask. But she felt self-conscious in front of her best friend a rarity. Was that a sign that she was blowing things out of proportion, or an indicator that deep down, she knew she'd made a huge mistake?

"Jackson and I had a scare the other day," she eventually said. "The night of the dinner party, actually. A condom broke on us."

Both of Mariah's eyebrows crept high, her eyes widening beneath.

"I took the morning after pill the next morning, and I thought that would make sure I didn't get pregnant. But when I read the instructions, I realized it's not as effective as I thought. One in eight women still conceive."

"And you're worried you'll be the one in eight?"

Belle nodded. "I know odds are I won't be, but I've been nervous ever since I read that statistic. I can't help it."

Now it was Mariah's turn to nod. "One in eight is a big enough chance to worry about. What's the worst case scenario?"

"What do you mean?"

"What I said: what's the worst that could happen?"

"I could get pregnant. I could be pregnant." Her heart skipped a beat when she said it out loud.

"Well, I for one could imagine far worse fates than making a baby with that man."

Belle laughed despite herself. "I never complained about the baby making part. It's the having a baby part that scares me."

"What about it scares you?"

Belle knew what Mariah was doing. Mariah had often told her that things sounded scarier inside your head than when you spoke them out loud. But while that worked for some things, Belle wasn't so sure this was one of them.

"Jackson and I just started dating. We're trying to build up to something serious, and that feels like a big enough leap of faith for me. If we were forced to get serious, everything might fall apart. I just ... feel like we've done pretty well striking a balance so far, and something like this might destroy it."

"What if it didn't though what if it worked out, and you two became a family? Does that scare you too, or is it only the idea of it not working that freaks you out?"

"I don't know." She buried her eyetooth deeper into her lip. "It's hard to imagine it working out. We've only been together for a few weeks."

"Yeah, but you've known each other since you were kids. And you've had a connection for years. It's not like he's a total stranger. Do you think he's someone you'd want to have a family with?"

"In the future, maybe. But it's not the kind of thing you jump into after a few weeks."

"No, it's not unless it happens that way." Mariah shrugged. "Unless you wouldn't want to go through with the pregnancy."

"No..." Her heart stuttered. Give up on a life she and Jackson had created? As nervous as she was, she knew that wasn't the path she'd choose. "I would go through with it, if it happened that way. But I'd probably disintegrate into a pile of frayed nerves along the way."

"I'm not trying to freak you out." Mariah's voice softened. "I'm just trying to help you figure out what's really bothering you so you don't have to waste your energy worrying about the other stuff."

"I know."

"Anyway, there's a seven in eight chance you won't have to worry about this much longer." She smiled. "Does Jackson know you're stressing about this?"

"Yes. He promised he'll stick by me if I'm pregnant. I know he's not the kind of guy who'd shirk his responsibilities, but I think a pregnancy would be more of a challenge than he realizes. And if we have a family, I want him to want to be there. I don't ever want to be an obligation to him, and I definitely wouldn't want my child to be, either."

"I get it. And I'm not saying you're wrong to worry about it, but maybe he would want it. Maybe he'd jump at the chance to have a life and a family with you."

Belle felt her face get hot. "This is real life, not a movie. Why would he want that with me after just a few weeks?"

"I can tell he's crazy about you, Belle. He was years ago, and he still is. And you're crazy about him too you're just scared. He doesn't strike me as being afraid of much."

She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out.

"Anyway, I have to get dressed for work. Feel free to finish off that last beignet while I get into my scrubs."

Jackson had Friday off work. Belle didn't, but he talked her into heading to the beach with him that evening. At six o'clock, he picked her up at her apartment and they headed to Blue Mile.

It was still sunny, the sky veiled by gauze-thin patches of clouds. They stopped at a coffee stand alongside the beach and got iced drinks before starting their walk.

Barefoot, the sand all but burnt his toes. Belle stepped lightly, obviously feeling the heat. Together, they walked down to the edge of the surf and stepped onto the wet, cool sand.

"How was work?" he asked as they headed west and a sand piper sprinted across their path, hunting tiny mussels.

"Okay. How was your day off?"

"Lazy. Bought groceries and went to see a movie with Elijah." He'd done those things on autopilot, his thoughts drifting back to Belle every few seconds, just like the water kept rushing back over the sand where they walked.

"Was the movie any good?"

"Let's just put it this way: I would've felt cheated if I'd paid more than matinee price for it. Elijah loved it, though. He has terrible taste in movies. If there are explosions, he'll pay hand over fist to watch."

She smiled. "You're a better friend than I am. Mariah used to try to get me to watch those crime doc.u.mentaries she loves so much with her, but eventually she got tired of me groaning and covering my eyes when things got gory."

"Covering your eyes?" He tried to keep a straight face, but it was hard.

She just shook her head. "Go ahead and laugh if you want. Crime scene photos creep me out. At least ones from really violent crimes, anyway. But Mariah laps it up and uses it all as motivation to fuel her paranoia."

"Better safe than sorry, right?"

He caught her rolling her eyes. "Sure, but she's an ER nurse. She can handle seeing gross stuff like that. I think she's forgotten what it's like to be a regular person who's never seen anything gorier than roadkill in real life."

"I can sympathize with her there."