Happily Never After by Bess George Read Free Book Online Page A

followed his simple statement. Her hands nervously shredded a napkin while she changed the subject. “How long have you been a detective?”
    “I’ve been here in Redding four years, but before that I worked SWAT out of Los Angeles. Law enforcement is in my blood. My dad was a cop, and it rubbed off on me and my three brothers. I don’t remember ever wanting to do anything else. We drove our mom crazy growing up. We’d play cops and robbers, practicing our skills on anything that stayed in one spot for too long.”
    “What a wonderful way to grow up.” Her breath caught in her throat when he gave her a real smile.
    He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Let’s just say that I learned at an early age how quick a situation can go bad when a pet doesn’t want to participate. I have scars, both physical and mental, from playing with my brothers.”
    “It sounds like you’re pretty close to them.”
    “Yeah,” he answered, “my dad was strict but the kind of guy who would listen to your side of things. Mom doesn’t quite hit the five-foot tall marker, but she can bring a grown man to his knees with one glare. She raised us to be able to take care of ourselves.”
    “Do you get to see them often?”
    “Shawn, my oldest brother is a Fed out of the Sacramento field office. Jason works for LAPD. Then, last but not least, there’s Chad, and he’s with the highway patrol. We all tend to be pretty busy, but still try to get together once or twice a year.”
    They talked about ordinary day-to-day stuff, and she relaxed even further. His leg would brush hers, and she tried not to let it rattle her. He reclined back against the seat in a casual pose, and she worked to emulate his calm demeanor.
    “So, you and David grew up in foster care. What about your family?”
    She picked up her glass and gulped down a swallow. This was the part where things always got tricky. It was a simple question that people always asked. After hearing the horrid details of the truth, one of two things tended to transpire. They beat a hasty, awkward retreat or tried to fix her. Bode didn’t strike her as the nurturing type, so she figured this might be the shortest non-date in history.
    “My father bludgeoned my mother to death and then used his service revolver on himself.”
    His body sat up straight in the seat. “He was a cop?”
    She worked to keep her cool. Distance yourself and pretend it’s someone else’s sad story. “He didn’t like her going shopping without his permission. I remember how excited I was to show him the new dress she bought me. He flicked me off like a piece of lint and started in on my mother. I tried to stop him, but he was too strong.”
    “How old were you?”
    “I just turned four. We didn’t have any other relatives, so they placed me in foster care. I was so shy and introverted they labeled me with behavior issues. The more they moved me, the worse it became. When I was seven, I ended up in a group home, and that’s where I met David.”
    He nudged her leg under the table. “He was a good kid and tucked you under his wing.”
    Laughter burst out of her at the absurd notion. “Hardly. He was a hellion, wild and hard for even Ann to handle. He did whatever he wanted and roamed the neighborhood.”
    She wiped her eyes and became serious. “His mom passed away from cancer, and his dad was in prison, so David went into the system. He came from a rough part of town and learned at a young age how to survive. But after a while, he let me follow him around and before I knew it, we were inseparable.”
    “For some reason, I can’t picture you as a street tough.”
    “I was so afraid they would separate us because of his behavior, I overcompensated by being the stereotypical good girl.” She grimaced at the recollection. “It’s embarrassing now to think about it.”
    The corners of his lips twitched in amusement. “Now that I believe. I can just see you, running around in your little buttoned