Somebody to Hold (Tyler Jamison #2) - April Wilson Page 0,48
of restrictions on what I can and can’t do. I can’t perform any law enforcement activities.”
“I’m sorry they took your badge from you. I know that hurts.”
He nods. “It does.”
“But you’ll get it back, right? It’s only temporary?”
He doesn’t answer right away, and that makes me nervous. “Tyler?”
“I guess that depends on the outcome.”
“Surely this will blow over. You’re a good cop. You were defending someone you love from harm. They can’t convict you for that.”
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see what happens.”
His guarded words chill my blood. “What do you mean?”
“I’m being charged with aggravated battery. That’s a felony.”
I sit up in bed. “That’s ridiculous! You’re not a felon!”
“Under the definition of the law, I might be.” He pulls me back down beside him and wraps me in his arms.
“What’s the penalty if you’re found guilty?”
“A minimum of two years.”
“In prison?”
He nods.
I tighten my arms around him. “No, you can’t go to prison. That’s insane. I’ll tell the judge Brad choked me. I’ll tell the jury—”
“You’re not going to testify.”
“Of course I am. I’m not going to let them convict you of a felony.”
Tyler turns my face to his and kisses me. “No more talk about charges and courts.” He runs his fingertips up and down my spine, gently stroking me. “Try to sleep, baby.”
I press my forehead against his shoulder and try not to cry.
How can he take this so calmly when I’m falling apart?
Chapter 18
Tyler Jamison
It’s nearly seven the next morning when I awake. For the first time in my life, I didn’t set an alarm on a weekday. Ian is still asleep, his backside nestled against me. I turn toward him and wrap my arm around his waist so I can hug him to me. I need to take advantage of every second I have with him because there might come a time when we’re forced to be apart.
I try not to think about what could happen. If the assistant DA is successful in making the felony charge stick, I’m going to prison, at least for a couple of years. I can’t fathom that. I can’t imagine being separated from Ian for that long. I’d miss two years of my sister’s life, and her son’s. I’d miss the birth of Beth’s new baby. I wouldn’t be around to help my mother out. Others would step in to do it, but that’s not the point. She’s my mother.
I press my lips to Ian’s shoulder and breathe in his scent—warm male skin, a hint of cologne. He’s become an addiction I can’t live without. I want to memorize everything about him—the sound of his voice, his laughter, his touch, the way he tastes, the sounds he makes when he comes. God forbid I’m in a position where memories are all I have to sustain me.
Our story can’t end here. Life can’t be that cruel. I waited my whole life for him, and I’m not about to lose him now.
No matter what he says, though, I won’t let him testify. I’m pleading guilty—no matter the consequences.
* * *
When Ian wakes, we take a quick shower and then head downstairs to make breakfast. Well, he does the making, while I do the fetching. In some ways, it feels like any ordinary weekend morning—the two of us at home together. But we both know better. It’s a Tuesday, when I should be at work.
Just as we’re sitting down to eat, I get a text from Troy Spencer.
Troy: I’m coming over at eleven so we can prepare for the arraignment.
Me: That’s fine
Troy: Shane’s coming with me.
Troy and Shane aren’t going to be happy when they learn I still plan to plead guilty.
I lay my phone down and reach for my fork.
Ian’s sitting across the small table, watching me intently. “Was that work?”
I shake my head. “Troy.”
“What does he want?”
“He’s coming over later this morning to discuss the arraignment.”
“What’s there to discuss?”
“The charge and my plea.”
Ian frowns in confusion. “You’ll plead not guilty, right? What else is there?”
I sip my coffee. “Right.” I’m not ready to tell him anything different.
Ian stabs his food with his fork, more than a little agitated. “I mean that’s your only choice, Tyler. I don’t see why you guys need to discuss it.”
“We’re just going over the procedures for today’s hearing. It’s nothing to worry about.”
By the way he’s staring at me, I suspect Ian doesn’t believe me.
He shoots to his feet, dropping his fork onto his plate. His gaze is filled with hurt. “This is