Page 57 of Tides That Bind

“Are we really going to fight over semantics right now?” I nudge the keys at her. “Go.”

“How will you get home?”

I shrug. “I’ll figure it out. Just...when you pick Lucas up from his friend’s, take him somewhere else. Plan to keep him out late unless you hear from me.”

Harper hangs her head, her blonde hair falling forward with the movement, caging her face in what I know she thinks feels like another chapter of defeat in what’s turned out to be a story of never-ending heartbreak. And I’ll be damned if we’re in this situation because of a dog. I’m determined to rewrite the entire plot because I can’t stand seeing the way her face falls, knowing if one thing went differently that fateful night I’d never be the one to bear witness to it.

I reach out, pushing a bundle of strands over her shoulder. “I’ll handle it, alright? Go. I’ll see you at home.”

It’s impossible to ignore the way her face relaxes when I tell her that.

After leaving me at the police station, it only takes eleven minutes for Harper to check in. I slowly read each message she sends.

Harper

Anything?

Do you really think they’ll give him back?

They will.

I tell Harper that even though I don't think it’ll happen without a fight.

Did you go to work?

Harper

Just got here. I’ll come back to the station after I’m done. Need an hour.

Don’t. Just let me handle this, alright?

I see you typing your objection and don’t bother. I won’t read it.

Shifting in the chair, I look up, finding that junior cadet staring. He’s gone from shy and intimidated to trying to be the intimidating one, which can mean only one thing. He’s realized who I am—I’m the one who took one of their own.

“Riley?”

Silas peeks his head out from behind the partition. “Come on back.”

I let the kid at the front desk feel good about the death stare he’s attempting to give me as I walk past him because I’ve got a bigger, 90-pound problem to deal with.

In the hallway I find Silas opening a door. “We can talk in here.”

“No need for the interrogation.” I eye the mirror and cold, metal chairs and table.

Silas grunts, closing the door behind him. “Just figured you’d like some privacy.” He motions at me to sit.

“Nope.” I pop my lips and remain standing. “Don’t even need much of your time. Just give me Tides and I’ll leave.”

Leaning against the door, Silas folds his arms across his chest. “We don’t haveTides. We have K9 Cruz.”

I raise an eyebrow. “K9Cruz?”

“That was the name he was given when he entered the program.”

I never liked Silas, even though Nate did, or at least, appeared to. But I have to wonder how much of that liking had to do with it being necessary because they worked together in a no man left behind type of environment, one Nate knew better than anyone well before he joined.

“Silas—”

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