Page 60 of The Homecoming

“I don’t think so.”

He nodded to the one in her hand. “Engage the safety, put it on the ground, and slide it to me.”

She did as he instructed. Weasel stopped the trajectory with his foot and bent to pick up the weapon with his still aimed at Jason. With one hand, he disengaged the clip and let it fall to the floor before he kicked it out of the room and into the hallway. He tossed the empty gun onto the bed.

“Are you injured?”

Autumn shook her head no.

“Go downstairs and wait,” he said.

She started to object, but Weasel in cop mode had a commanding presence that intimidated her. She struggled to her feet, and he held out a hand and helped pull her upright.

“You sure you’re alright?” he asked. His weapon still being trained on Jason made her uneasy.

“Yeah.”

“Go downstairs, I’ll come talk to you after I get him taken care of.”

She left the room, but stayed in the hall outside the door.

“Man, you got anything else on you?” Weasel asked.

She didn’t hear the reply, but she assumed he received one.

“Okay, bud, we’re gonna get you some help.” He paused. “No, man, no trouble. It’s going to be fine. I know this great place where they’ll get you right again. I know some guys who have been there.” There was movement and a drawer opened. “I have a shirt for ya,” Weasel said.

Autumn breathed a sigh of relief and crept down the stairs before the guys could come out of the room and catch her not doing what Weasel told her. Outside, Weasel’s unmarked SUV sat behind her car in the driveway and a patrol car was parked on the street in front of the house. A uniformed officer stood on the front porch. When the two men came down the stairs, Autumn was planted on the couch dutifully waiting on Weasel. He took Jason out the front door without another word. A minute later, he returned and sat next to her on the sofa with a notepad and a pen.

“Start from the beginning.”

32.

Good news travels fast in a small town, but bad news travels even quicker, not that either Weasel nor Autumn had commented on what happened. So, the story that made the rounds only came from those who had witnessed the police car in front of her parents’ house. Within minutes of her collapse on the couch in her cabin, Brandon was at the door. “Can I come in?” he called.

“Well, I’m not getting up,” she called back.

He let himself in and came across the small room quickly. “Are you alright?”

One look at his face and she knew. “What did you hear?”

“That there was a whole swat team at your parents’ house and officers hauled Jason out in handcuffs.”

She groaned. “Sometimes I hate this town. There was no swat team, no sirens, no lights, no handcuffs.”

“Whatdidhappen?” He dropped next to Autumn.

“I had to call Weasel to come get Jason. He was contemplating suicide.” She should be out of tears at this point, but they welled in her eyes once again. Brandon grabbed for her, and she slid against his chest, letting him hug her. “Weasel’s taking him somewhere to get him help.”

“Good. Weasel knows plenty of places.”

“He does?”

“Well, yeah. He deals with stuff like that fairly often.”

This comment struck her; she’d never contemplated exactly what Weasel did for his job. The good-time, crazy Weasel was what she was used to. But her perspective shifted after seeing him in action—he had taken control of the situation and secured everyone, but was still able to speak gently and reassure Jason with absolute confidence.

“So, why don’t you go on and take some time off and rest before the baby comes?”

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