and raised a hand to shield her hazel eyes from the light streaming in from the hall.
“Hey, bug bite,” Sun said. She set the note on the nightstand and climbed onto the bed, duty weapon, work boots, and all.
“Hey, Mom,” Auri said, as Sun reclined against the headboard beside her.
She’d showered and put on her uniform for the trip, packing only the basic essentials. Toothbrush. Deodorant. A can of tuna because of that one trip that ended so badly.
She brushed a lock of her daughter’s hair back. “You okay?”
Auri nestled against her and put her fiery head on Sun’s shoulder. “No.”
Sun had noticed. Auri’s swollen, red-rimmed eyes said it all. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I hate that you saw Levi like that.”
“I hate that he was like that at all.” Her breath hitched, crushing Sun. “Why does he have to be so brave? He could’ve been killed.”
“I don’t know. He’s Levi, for one thing, and the man who was attacked was a good friend of his.”
“He didn’t even take us into account.”
“Us?” Sun asked.
“Yes. What would happen to us if he’d been killed? Did he think of that? No. Of course not. And do you know why?”
It was apparently a rhetorical question; Auri continued before Sun could guess.
“Because he’s a guy. With a penis. Penises are stupid.”
Sun tried not to giggle. “Yes, they are. Penises are very stupid. I don’t want you to ever forget that.”
“I won’t. Don’t you worry.”
Sun had to wonder what Auri’s crush, Cruz, had done to cause such penis-aversion. She’d have to thank him. He probably bought her at least another year before her daughter experimented with the opposite sex.
“I have to make a quick trip to a prison near Phoenix, bug. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”
“Can I come?”
“No,” she said with a soft laugh. “You need to get some rest. We’ll talk about your impromptu trip to an active crime scene when I get back.”
“I can’t fall asleep.” She propped herself up onto an elbow to give Sun the full effect of the pout she’d perfected by the time she was two. “Pot’s just not doing it for me anymore. I’m going to have to try heroin.”
Masterful deflection. Then again, she did learn from the best. “Now, Auri, we’ve talked about this. Heroin is a gateway drug. Try cutting back on the coke, first, okay?”
“Mom,” she whined and threw herself back onto the bed.
“I mean it. Two lines a day. Three at the most.”
“Fine. I’ll cut back.” She rolled back up and batted her dark lashes. “Then we can discuss heroin?”
Sun tucked a strand of glistening hair behind her ear. “I promise.”
“Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.” She threw her arms around her, then said, “Safe journey.”
“Thank you, sweet pea. Now get some sleep.”
Auri snuggled beneath the covers. Sun kissed the top of the hellion’s head, then stood to find her mother hovering in the doorway, frowning, with her arms crossed over her chest.
“What’s wrong, Mom?”
“Heroin?” she asked, her tone admonishing.
She brushed past the older woman, and said, “Better heroin than angel dust, if you ask me.”
“Everything I touch turns delinquent.”
“Don’t touch my bills, then.” Sun headed to the living room to find her dad raiding the fridge in his pajamas.
He looked past the bright light he’d been bathed in. “Hey, sweet pea.”
“Hey, Dad. I’ll be back by tomorrow night.”
He gave the room a furtive glance, leaned close, and said softly, “Okay, but try to get back early.”
Guilt twisted her gut into a knot. She had been relying on her parents a lot lately. Too much. “Of course. I’m sorry, Dad. This whole sheriff gig … the hours are longer than I expected. So much paperwork.”
“Please.” He snorted and waved away her misgivings. “You know we love having the dumpling here. It’s just that tomorrow night is date night—”
She pressed a palm to her heart. “That’s so sweet.”
“—and your mother has discovered gay manga.”
“Oh, my God.”
“I don’t know what that is, but our love life has never been better. I’d hate for the little redhead to catch onto the fact that her grandparents still have sex, but I can only hold the woman off for so long.”
“I can’t believe I grew up for this.”
He took her hand into his. “How is he?”
The hand he held shook involuntarily, so she pulled it back. “He’ll be okay. I think. I don’t know. He escaped before we could find out for sure.”
He pulled her into a hug. “He’s something else, that one.”
Understatement of the century. “Yes, he is. Don’t