Wish Upon A Sunset

A Pain In My Ass

Logan

"Ah, Hell!"

Slamming on my brakes, I barely missed rear-ending the blue Subaru Forester in front of me.

The unique features of my unmarked Wrangler Rubicon, such as the fancy mirrors and antennas, made it easily recognizable as a police vehicle. As such, people acted like Sunday drivers when they noticed me, slowing me down or getting in my way. Like the guy in front of me now, who was traveling five miles per hour below the speed limit. Though my Jeep was perfect for off-road cruises, it wasn't great for highway driving or maneuvering through traffic.

Spotting the precinct up ahead, I took a hard right down Fifth Street and just barely resisted the urge to honk at the elderly man who had been slowing me down for the last ten minutes.

Taking a sip of my now cooling espresso, I maneuvered my Jeep into the underground parking garage and headed over to my designated parking spot.

The bitter taste of coffee reminded me of the pleasant surprise I had received earlier. I still couldn't believe that I had run into Emma. I had hoped to cross paths with her at some point, but I had expected it to take longer considering the social circles she used to frequent before her conviction.

Though I should have known better.

I had witnessed how the community had turned on her during her trial-including her piece of shit husband. My hands clenched the steering wheel tightly as I pulled into my reserved parking spot. The memory of Emma's husband betraying her when she needed him the most still infuriated me to this day. He had testified against her, backing up the prosecutors' accusations. The memory of her face when he took the stand would haunt me forever.

Something about the entire investigation had always rubbed me the wrong way. It was my job to hunt down criminals, to detect lies, and sniff out the truth. One thing I could swear on: she was innocent.

I hated injustice. It was a significant factor that influenced my choice to pursue a career in law enforcement. To fight for the underdog and to protect the innocent.

But the entire trial had been a shit show, and it had brought out my protective instincts.

That was why I had kept track of her all these years. I had ensured that the other inmates left her alone during her time at Hasburrow. I used my connections and may have even used intimidation to guarantee her safety within the correctional facility. My regret was the delay in checking on her. During the first three months, she faced constant harassment from the other prisoners.

I wasn't an idiot. I knew about the unspoken "moral" code within prisons, and the charges that Emma had received went against it. Fellow inmates didn't care if you were innocent or not. Convicts with charges like Emma's often ended up with a shank in their back. I shook my head in disgust at the thought.

Leaving the Wrangler, I locked the door and took a sip of my coffee while exiting the parking garage. I frowned when I remembered the look on Emma's face when I had saluted her with the coffee cup. She seemed confused, unable to recall who I was. The look of sadness and uncertainty in her pretty blue eyes hadn't sat well with me and when I saw her wringing those small hands of hers, a gesture I had seen her do a thousand times during her trial, an irresistible urge had welled up inside me to put a smile on her face. Hopefully, it brightened her day a little.

I wish I had seen the look of surprise when she realized I had paid for her coffee.

Chuckling softly at the image, I stepped inside the police station and spotted Julia sitting behind the front desk. The older woman, who had been a part of this place for as long as I could remember, had a certain warmth and familiarity that reminded me of my mom.