Page 1 of Concealed

Chapter 1

Wyatt

Onestupidmistakecanruin your entire life.

In my case, it landed me in Sunnyville, California, miles away from the grit and pulse of Los Angeles where everything relevant happens. The penance for my so-called crimes is awfully fucking steep, but my dad tells me I’m lucky to still have my badge.

Thanks to him.

He’ll never let me forget that last part.

I’m driving to my first day at the new job I never wanted, but if I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future, then I’ll need to man up and make the best of it.

Joining Sunnyville Police Department will be a night and day difference from working the 77thDivision in our South Bureau, widely considered the most dangerous.

I simply considered it the most interesting.

Sunnyville is what my mom would have called quaint. It’s my definition of a tourist trap with a rowdy boardwalk as the main attraction. I’ve barely been here for a minute, but the small-town vibes are strong.

It’s the kind of place where people take family vacations reminiscent of the “good old days” when we weren’t all glued to our devices and actually looked people in the eye. I can picture kids searching for seashells on the beaches and playing board games in the evenings.

With the ocean views and rolling green hills, Sunnyville is a pretty place. But I’ve always been more of a downtown guy with a preference for towering skyscrapers and busy streets because that’s where the action is found.

Maybe one day I’ll be able to get back on my old force, but it’s not looking too good. I need to adjust my expectations and be grateful to still have a job, and that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.

But, man, it’s hard.

I’m pulling into the station when a loud ding lets me know that I have a text message. I park the truck and take my phone out, a quick glance confirming the message is from my old partner and one of my best buddies, Gabe Weston. I eagerly open it, happy to have anything familiar from my old life to hold onto.

Gabe:Wyatt, man, I need a huge favor.

Wyatt:Hit me up.

Gabe:A friend of mine needs to stay with you. Not for long – maybe a month or two. I know you just got to Nowhere, California, and the timing couldn’t be worse, but… It’s really urgent, or I wouldn’t even ask. Cool?

Gabe is right about the timing – I haven’t even had the chance to unpack. I put off the move as long as possible, not wanting to trade my condo for a townhouse, even if the real estate agent kept reminding me it was “just steps to the beach.”

But everyone has their rides or dies. There are certain friends who you just do anything they need whenever they need it without asking questions.

Gabe is that friend.

I would take a bullet for him – literally. So, letting one of his buddies stay with me short-term is a far easier request. We were only partners for two years, but we bonded quickly, and I trust him implicitly.

The plan is to quickly impress my new chief, so I won’t be home much anyway. Besides, if this dude is a friend of Gabe’s, then he’ll be cool to hang out with when Iamaround. It’s not like I have any friends here. I hadn’t even heard of Sunnyville until Dad exiled me.

Wyatt:You know it. When?

Gabe:Today, dude. I’m sorry to just throw it at you. I’m about to walk into our morning briefing or else I’d call and explain.

It doesn’t make any sense that Gabe wouldn’t let his friend stay with him, but I’m sure he’ll enlighten me later when he has a chance. It sounds important enough not to give him any grief, and I’m happy to take some stress off his plate.

Wyatt:Don’t sweat it. I’m about to start my shift, too. What time will your friend arrive?

Gabe:GPS says by 8 p.m.

Wyatt:I should be home by then. If I’m not, give him my number, and I’ll swing by to let him in. I’d go back and leave a key, but I don’t want to be late. First day and all.

Gabe:You’re gonna kill it, man. I’m telling you, it will be way easier to make a name for yourself there. Everyone will forget all the bullshit, and then you can come back and be our boss.

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