Page 126 of Wild Card
“I think I have to run for sheriff,” he said.
“Oh.”
“I didn’t want to because I’m not sheriff material,” he said. “I let my partner die on my watch, for fuck’s sake. I can’t think of a worse candidate, except maybe Hale, but everyone’s looking to me to step up.”
I shook my head. “Dalton, that’s why you’d make a great sheriff. Most people make excuses or look for ways to dodge responsibility. But you carry the burden of your partner’s death because you care so much.”
“That’s not saying much,” Dalton said. “I let him die.”
“I doubt you let anything happen,” I said. “I’m sure you did everything you could to stop it. To save him. You’re not the typeto stand by and let things happen. If you were, you wouldn’t have quit your job. You wouldn’t be talking about running for sheriff.”
“He wasn’t supposed to be there,” Dalton said, his tone anguished. “We were supposed to stick to protocol and stay together, but we weren’t sure which way the perp went. There was this fence, and he was younger and faster, so I let him go over it while I checked the alley.
“I should have ordered him to hang back and stick with me,” he continued, “but I wanted the collar. It was stupid. I got complacent, and my partner took a bullet in the chest because of it. He died there on the pavement. Bled out in a parking lot because I wasn’t there to protect him.”
“Oh, baby.” I drew his head down onto my shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”
“It is,” he choked out. “I fucked up. If I’d gone over the fence too?—”
“Then you might be dead,” I said harshly.
Dalton drew back, a startled look on his face.
“That’s not a better outcome, Dalton. Not to me. Not when I?—”
I stopped short, biting back my words. I took a breath. “Not when I’d have never gotten to meet you. To really know you.”
“He had a wife. A baby.”
I raised my hand to Dalton’s cheek. “That’s tragic. Really tragic. But you can’t take this all on yourself. You didn’t shoot him. You did your job the best you could.”
“It wasn’t good enough.”
“So do better, then!” I snapped.
His eyes widened. “Wh-what?”
“If you want to make up for what happened with your partner, then you have to do better. Be better. Make sure you’re the best damn sheriff and your deputies are as safe as they canbe. That they understand the risks, that they have the resources they need for their job.”
“Yeah,” he rasped. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t remember your partner or care what happened…”
“No, I know. I’ll never forget.”
“You shouldn’t,” I said softly. “But you also shouldn’t let it hold you back.”
“But if I run for sheriff, it won’t only affect me,” he said. “Things will change, you know? This impacts you, too, because…”
He trailed off, but I could fill in the blanks. I wasn’t the ideal boyfriend to help someone win an election. Even if he won, the sheriff couldn’t be cavorting with the asshole who got tossed into jail for brawling or gambling. It wouldn’t be a good look.
The sinking sensation in my gut was all too familiar. The inevitability of loss. I’d always known Dalton was too good for me. Too good to stay.
I couldn’t ask him to choose me. Not when he’d regret letting down his colleagues, his town. I couldn’t be that selfish.
“I guess things will have to change, then,” I said quietly. “This is what you need to do. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah.” He brought me in for a kiss. “Thank you for understanding.”
