Page 6 of Shea's Hero

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “I’m glad you didn’t get hurt.”

Cole crouches by my side, his voice gentling as he says, “Okay, Shea. I just want to take a look at your cheek.”

But I don’t care about my cheek. My cheek will heal. “No. Check Jade first. Make sure… Just make sure she’s okay. Please.”

“I’m fine, Shea.” Jade grabs my hand and squeezes. “I’m sorry. I froze. I?—”

“You were fine, hun,” Niall croons. “It’s okay.”

But he looks the furthest thing from okay. He looks more shaken than I’ve ever seen him.

“I called 911,” Maya announces. “The police are on the way.” Then she pulls up a chair beside me and takes my hand. “Are you okay, Shea?” Her eyes are kind and filled with concern. “Can I get you some ice? Some water? Anything?”

I’m reminded of how much I liked Maya back when Oliver and I were dating. “I just want to make sure Jade’s alright. The man… he only hit me once?—”

“Once is one time too many,” Niall bites out.

Maya glances at Niall. “Oliver should be here soon. And Kane, his partner.”

Wait.

What?

Shit.

After all my worrying. All the reassurances. And nowthisis how I’m going to see my ex? Bruised and shaky and close to tears? My hair undoubtedly in tangles and my clothes a mess?

I know it shouldn’t matter. Not given what just happened.

But. Whenever I imagined seeing him again, it wasn’t looking like this.

I wanted to be the woman he remembered.

“It’s going to be okay, Shea.” Maya’s voice is achingly kind as she meets my gaze. “Oliver’s going to be relieved you’re okay. That’s all. I promise.”

Will he, though? Or does he still hate me for ruining everything?

CHAPTER 2

OLIVER

“I don’t know why you insist on rooting for the Mets.”

His attention still on the road, Kane shakes his head, a half-smile lifting his lips. “Because they’re my team. Have been since I was six years old and went to my first game with my grandfather.”

Knowing I’m poking the bear and fully enjoying it, I ask, “But don’t you want to back a winning team for once?”

Taking a hand off the steering wheel, he punches my arm. “That’s blasphemy. As if I’d abandon my team. And for who? The Yankees? Or would you suggest I jump ship to the Sox?”

I swat him on the back of the head. “The Sox? Get that name out of your mouth. The Yankees are theonlyacceptable team if you live in New York.”

“Hey.” My partner turns and gives me a teasing glare. “I’m driving, you know. You could have made me drive off the road right there. Imagine the article in theSleepy Hollow Post. Officers wreck department vehicle after an altercation over baseball teams. The Chief would never let us hear the end of it.”

Glancing at the speedometer, which is currently recording a very safe twenty-five miles per hour, I chuckle. “I hardly think Iwas about to send you veering off the road. Unless you think you need to refresh your driver training.”

Kane hits the blinker and makes a right turn onto Broadway, the main street that cuts through downtown Sleepy Hollow. The streetlamps are just blinking on, illuminating the sidewalks as the sun sinks below the horizon. “So. I was thinking of heading into the Catskills on our day off, checking out some of the hiking trails. Want to come along?”

Before I answer, I scan the sidewalks as we pass by, checking for anything out of the ordinary—someone stumbling along, drunk after blowing their Friday paycheck at the bar, any suspicious activity near one of the closed downtown stores, or a would-be thief trying to break into a car. But as usual in our small town, everything looks peaceful.

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