Page 57 of The Rookie's Second Chance

I leaned back, feeling the pull of the stitches on my skin, a reminder of the fragility of my situation. But it wasn't the time to dwell on personal aches. I grabbed my cell, punching in Jake's number with a fervor.

He picked up on the second ring, "Kayla? What's up? You should be resting."

I could almost hear the eye roll in his voice, but this was too big to wait. "Jake, you're not going to believe this. I found a report, a concealed one. And guess whose name is on it?"

There was a beat of silence, and I knew I had his full attention. "Who?"

"Kilkenny," I said. "And it's tied to Lexi's case. It looks like he misfiled it, maybe on purpose. This is huge, Jake."

I could hear the rustling sound of him moving, probably reaching for something to write with. "Are you sure? How'd you find it?"

I smirked despite the situation. "Would you believe me if I said dumb luck? Because it sure as hell wasn't by following the rules."

A chuckle, tired and strained, came through the line. "You're unbelievable, you know that? Hold tight, I'm coming over. We need to go through this together."

We ended the call, and I got to work, forwarding the files to Jake's encrypted email. As I did, I thought about Lexi, everything she had been through, and how all these threads—Lexi, Garrett, Jude, Kilkenny—were intertwining into a knot that we were about to untie.

I pushed away from the desk, feeling the room tilt a little. I needed to keep a level head. With a deep breath, I steadied myself. This was no time to falter. I was on the edge of something big, and I knew it.

Jake arrived, and the day passed in a blur of coffee and hushed phone calls as we pieced together what we could from the report. Officer Kilkenny, the man who should have been the protector, the law enforcer, was our prime suspect. The irony wasn't lost on me, nor was the danger.

The room was silent except for our breathing and the soft click of my laptop keys. The screen's glow cast shadows across his face, highlighting the dark circles under his eyes.

"Have you slept at all?" I asked, not looking away from the screen.

"I'll sleep when this is over," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. His dedication was as fierce as it was foolhardy.

"Come on, Jake. You're no good to Lexi or me if you collapse."

He shook his head, a stubborn set to his jaw. "There's no time, Kayla."

I stood up and stretched, feeling the pull of my own aches. "Bullshit. You're going to bed, even if I have to drag you there."

A ghost of a smile flickered on his face. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me," I challenged, closing my laptop with a snap.

He stood, towering over me, but the exhaustion was clear in the way his shoulders slumped. "Fine. But only a couple of hours."

I led him to my bedroom, watching as he sat on the edge of the bed, looking like he was about to argue again. Instead, he lay down, his body sprawled across the covers.

"Get in," he said, eyes already closing.

I hesitated only a moment before sliding in beside him, pulling him into an embrace. His body was tense at first, but gradually, he relaxed against me, his breathing deepening. I held him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest until his weight settled against me in the deep, even rhythm of sleep.

I watched him, the steady beat of his heart under my hand a comfort. I should have felt the same pull of sleep, but I was preoccupied with the case and the fear of what might happen if we didn't solve this fast.

Eventually, the tension of the day caught up with me, and I drifted off, the warmth of Jake beside me anchoring me to the present.

It was still dark out when Jake's phone buzzed incessantly on the nightstand, waking me. I reached out to silence it, but he was already stirring, the sound jolting him awake.

"Shit," he said, grabbing the phone. His expression darkened as he scrolled through the notifications—missed calls from Lexi, from Mandy.

He was out of bed in an instant, the phone pressed to his ear as he tried to return the calls. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, the peace of the night shattered. I checked my own phone and saw it was three in the morning.

When he got no answer, he turned to me, frustrated. "This is exactly why I can't afford to sleep. If something's happened—"

"Jake, you needed the rest. You were dead on your feet," I protested, my worry rising.

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