“A volunteer?”
“Yeah.”
The rush in her ears was almost deafening. “I’m . . . I’m surprised you didn’t talk to me first.” She leaned against the counter for support, the way she had when she’d learned that her husband had been killed in the line of duty so long ago. He’d been older than Jeremy, of course, but the pain of that loss, whenever she thought about it, was still visceral. It didn’t matter that their marriage had been in trouble. It was just . . . hellish on all of them.
And to think that her son wanted to walk in his shoes!
“I’ve been telling you about this, Mom.” He took another large bite, stuffing the crust into his mouth, washing the whole wad down with another swallow of Coke. “For
a long time. But you haven’t been listening. You’re always too busy.”
“No, she isn’t,” Bianca said from her chair at the table where Cisco had taken up guard duty, his nose twitching upward. “Don’t you get it, dumbass?” she asked, gesturing toward Pescoli. “She’s in denial.”
“It’s not denial, and don’t call your brother names.” Pescoli held up both hands and kept her gaze on her boy. “I just didn’t think you were serious.”
“Maybe I wasn’t. Before.” He swiped another two sections of the pizza and didn’t bother to heat them. “But then someone tried to kill Sheriff Grayson.” Jeremy was suddenly dead serious. “Just like some jackass killed my dad. It’s time for me to step up. Help find the dick who did this.” Before she could argue, he continued, “You’re the one who’s always trying to get me to do something, aren’t you? You know, always wanting me to set goals. So I am.”
“But, law enforcement?”
“It’s what I want, Mom. Like you. Like Dad. The only thing I want to do. So I just went for it.” He took another bite and kind of grunted in satisfaction. To Bianca, he said, “And from now on, you can call me Deputy or Officer.”
“Like sure. Get real.” Bianca’s phone vibrated and she started texting as Jeremy looked in his mother’s direction again. “Don’t worry, Mom. I won’t fu—mess this up. You’ll see.” He grabbed another slice. “Didn’t you say there were presents or something? What’re we waiting for?”
Chapter 14
The last person Hattie wanted to run into was Cade Grayson, but it seemed as if her luck had run out and sure enough, as she was walking into the hospital, he was striding through the first set of wide doors at the entrance to Northern General.
If she’d thought he would pass her by without making a comment, she was sadly mistaken. Keeping his thoughts to himself, especially where she was concerned, was just not his style.
“If it isn’t Mrs. Grayson,” he said, pausing as she slipped from the outside to the inner vestibule and the exterior set of doors whispered shut behind her.
“How is he?” she asked, ignoring his attempt at getting under her skin.
His eyes darkened a shade. “The same.”
“You talked to the doctor?”
“Not yet.” His cockiness had evaporated. “I tried, but . . . you know. The nurses in ICU said they’d pass along the information that I wanted a call.”
“Maybe there’s just nothing new.”
“Probably.” His gaze shifted from her face, to the doors and night beyond. Jaw tightening, he added, “I guess I don’t have to be an ass.”
“You don’t have to be. You choose to be.”
“Ouch.” He actually winced.
“Let’s not do this,” she said. “I came here because I care about your brother, who just happens to be my brother-in-law. If you think that’s a crime, sorry, guilty as charged.” Cade’s expression darkened, and Hattie went on, “I don’t know what it is I do that pisses you off so much, but it’s your problem, not mine. And if I really looked at the issue long and hard, I think your attitude might have a lot to do with what happened between us.”
“That was a long time ago,” he said cautiously.
“Yes, it was. A long time ago. Long enough that we should get past it all.” She regarded him coolly, intent on not letting him get to her anymore. His eyes were dark, his pupils large in the dim light, his chin covered in a beard shadow that was somewhere between scruffy and sexy, and he stared at her as if he couldn’t believe that she’d thrown off her polite little shell to tear into him.
“I guess I might deserve that,” he allowed.
“You’ve been a real ass, Cade. It’s not my fault that Bart is dead, and it’s certainly not my fault that Dan is here. So quit blaming me.”
“I don’t.”