Hometown Hero's Redemption. Jill Kemerer

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СКАЧАТЬ a new routine for us both. I hope his first day is going okay.”

      “I do, too. Kids make friends easy at his age. I’m sure he’ll fit right in.”

      Drew gazed out at the water. “I don’t know. He’s too quiet. And he never used to be shy.”

      “Losing your parents will do that to you.” She rubbed her upper arms although it wasn’t cold. “You still haven’t told me what happened.”

      He hated discussing it. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t memorized the details. Once he opened his mouth, he knew he’d be able to tell her the facts in a detached voice. If only his insides wouldn’t twist and cry out at the senselessness of it all. Missy hadn’t deserved to die, and his best friend shouldn’t be in jail.

      “Over a year ago, Missy went to rehab and, once out, decided a change of scene would help her stay clean. She moved to Detroit to be in Wyatt’s life. She and Chase reconnected, were even dating again. On a hot day in August, Len showed up at her apartment. They fought. He choked her to death.” He cleared his throat to dislodge the lump forming. “It changed Chase. He became obsessed when Len skipped bail. He hired a private investigator, and when they located Len, he went there to confront him. No one knows exactly what happened, but Chase drove over Len with his truck.”

      “He didn’t kill him, though?”

      “Broke his leg.” He rubbed his chin. “Chase was found guilty of second-degree attempted murder. Len is serving a life sentence in prison for first-degree murder.”

      Drew glanced at Lauren to see her reaction. “Is that the saddest story you’ve ever heard?”

      She shook her head. “No. It’s not.”

      “That’s pretty heartless.”

      “Is it?” She stood, shaking her legs out. “Work in the inner city of Chicago for eight years. You’ll see worse.”

      He rose, too, shoving his hands in his pockets. Logically he knew awful things happened every day all over the world, but they hadn’t touched him the way Chase and Missy did. His own line of work put him face-to-face with horror on an ongoing basis. While he cared about the people he helped who had been in accidents and fires, he didn’t love them the way he did his friends, so their tragedies didn’t feel as devastating. He probably should feel guilty about that, but he didn’t.

      “Let’s go walk along the lake.” He took her by the elbow, directing her to the lakeside path. “Tell me about Chicago.”

      She strolled beside him. “I’m trying to forget.”

      “What do you want to forget?”

      “It’s kind of hard to forget if I talk about it.” She acted lighthearted, but the tiny furrow in her forehead revealed the truth. Whatever had happened must have affected her deeply.

      “You got me there.” He wouldn’t push her.

      “Yeah, well my do-gooding days are over.”

      He cringed, remembering the way he and his friends had taunted her. How she’d walk down the school halls with her spine so straight it looked like it would snap. They’d thought she was stuck-up, but he knew better now. She’d been protecting herself from them.

      Why had he been so clueless? So thoughtless? So mean?

      “I hope that’s not true,” he said. “The world needs more people like you.”

      She snorted. “Not even close. I was so naive. Thought I could make a difference. I tried. I really did try.”

      “I’m sure you made a big difference in a lot of people’s lives.”

      She quickened her pace, and he sped to keep up with her. “I’d get kids placed in a foster home, and the next month they’d be removed at the foster parents’ request. They needed stability, but did they get it? Or I’d try to get kids out of an unhealthy, neglect-filled home, but the parent would find a way to work the system.”

      “Some of the cases you worked on must have turned out well.”

      “Some did. The last one, though... I couldn’t do it anymore. Those kids meant too much to me. I always got in too deep emotionally.”

      “It’s better to be emotionally invested than to be apathetic. When you don’t care about other people, you only really care about yourself. Trust me. I know.”

      “What if you don’t care about yourself, either?” The breeze blew the hair around her face, and she tucked it back behind her ear.

      “Then you end up living with a bunch of potheads and working at a gas station because you’re so mad at the world, you can’t handle living in it.” He checked his watch. “I didn’t realize the time. I hate to cut this short, but I’ve got to pick up Wyatt.”

      “No problem.” They turned around and started walking back to her apartment. “Do you ever miss playing football?”

      “Miss it? I still play.”

      “When?” Skepticism laced her tone.

      “Me and the guys throw the ball around whenever possible. You should see us when football season starts. We watch all the college and NFL games, and we split into teams to play outside, too. Well, we did back in Detroit, anyway.”

      Her smile lit her face. “So I assume you’ll be coaching a rec team for Wyatt this August, huh?”

      “Unfortunately, no. Chase made me promise I wouldn’t let Wyatt play.”

      “Why not? Isn’t he the big football star?”

      “That’s part of the problem. He blames the celebrity lifestyle for coloring his decisions. Like I said, he wants Wyatt—”

      “To have a normal life.”

      “Yep.”

      They crossed the street at a traffic light.

      “Hmm...” She appeared deep in thought.

      “What’s the ‘hmm’ for?”

      “I guess I was thinking no one really has a normal life.”

      Drew opened his mouth to refute it, but she had a point. What was normal?

      His job was normal. He loved being a firefighter. Craved the adrenaline rush of his duties. Didn’t mind the danger.

      Lauren’s complexity intrigued him. What about that last case had made her lose her faith in herself? What had her life been like in Chicago? Why did this golden girl, who seemed to have it all together, not view herself the way he—and everyone else—did?

      The questions would have to wait. They reached the parking lot, and he stopped in front of her building’s back door. “Thanks.”

      “For what?”

      “For giving me the time of day. For letting me talk to you.”

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