Page 49 of Holding Out For A Holiday Hero

And Jake had so easily taken Richard down.

“I’m gonna grill him like hell when I get him to the station,” Harris vowed. “I can also guarantee that he’ll be in holding and interrogation for as long as possible. His drunk ass isn’t going to be getting out of the station anytime soon.”

Her breath expelled in a rush. “Thanks for coming here so quickly, Harris.”

Harris’s gaze cut to the patrol car as it pulled away. “You know your ex looks suspicious as hell,” Harris told her.

Yes, she knew that.

“He ever pull shit like this with you before?” Harris pushed as his attention shifted back to her. “Did he ever get rough with you?”

A growl broke from Jake.

“No.” A negative shake of her head. “He’s never been physically violent with me.” Her lips pressed together. “I would have left him if he had been.”

“You did leave him,” Harris pointed out. “There more to that story?”

There was more, but nothing relevant to Harris. “He never physically hurt me.”

“You can’t say that for sure.” Harris rubbed his index finger along the bridge of his nose. “If it turns out that he’s the perp who locked you in that old coffin, I’d say he was all about some physical cruelty.”

Richard wouldn’t do that.

Would he?

Harris ambled away. Her neighbors had all finally gone back inside their homes, too. They’d come out when the cops arrived. Everyone liked a good show.

Everyone but her.

True’s shoulders sagged as she turned and made her way inside. The yellow tape was still up, and she yanked it down before she crossed the threshold. Her house was still. Too quiet. And a faint odor lingered in the air.

From the dead body?

The door closed softly behind her. She waited, knowing what question would come. Almost hating it.

“What baby?” Jake asked her softly.

Her shoulders stiffened as pain from her past washed over her. “I was going to call him Lucas.” It hurt so much to say his name. “I lost him right at thirteen weeks. And nothing has ever hurt me more.” Not even when she’d lost her mother. Then her father.

Losing Lucas…seeing the blood slide from her and knowing there was nothing she could do to stop it…nothing she could do to save her baby…

Jake’s hands curled around her shoulders. “I am so sorry,” he told her.

She nodded. Her eyes closed, the better to hold in the tears. “I went to the hospital by myself. Richard was working on a case.” There had always been some big case with him. “Afterwards, he acted…like it was nothing. Like everything could carry on. He wouldn’t talk about the baby at all. We’d tried for a year to get pregnant. I wanted that baby so much, and I was grieving but he wasn’t. And that was when I realized…” She stopped. “Sometimes, people don’t have the same dreams.” Her eyes opened, and she turned in his arms. “I want to be Santa Claus.”

He frowned at her. “Sweets, I am not sure I am following.”

“I want to put up a tree and have presents wrapped and waiting for my child on Christmas morning. I want to hear laughter and see wonder in a kid’s eyes. I want to go trick-or-treating with him. With her. I want to cheer at a football game or clap at a dance recital. Or cry at a theater show. I want kids. Richard…he didn’t. Today—today is the first time that he has ever said he was sorry I lost the baby. It’s the first time that he’s ever told me he was sorry for anything.”

A muscle flexed along Jake’s clenched jaw. “I should have kicked his ass so much more.”

A half laugh, half sob escaped her. “He’s not worth it.” Not worth getting bruised knuckles.

“You love him?”

She shook her head. “A very long time ago, a different me fell in love with a different him. We are not the same people any longer. Or, hell, maybe I never knew him.” Not who he really was. Maybe he’d just been pretending? And maybe she’d just been looking for someone to love. “My parents died. I had no other family. I was lost. And Richard said he needed me.” But she’d grown up over the years. She’d learned important lessons.

Need wasn’t love.

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