He snorted. “The car’s registered to a one Jasmine Jergen. These papers are for a Sasha Jergen. Jasmine has a warrant out for prostitution. Jasmine also has a warrant out for hot checks. Whomever she is, she’s fucked.”

I sighed. “Goddammit. I was hoping to see Reagan as she walked home.”

Reagan’s school was located less than a quarter mile from Free, and she walked home with the rest of her cousins every day. Usually, one or two of the adults from up there took turns walking them all home.

And today I’d miss it thanks to this dumbass in front of me.

“Fuck,” I sighed. “Let’s do this.”

***

“I missed you today, daddy,” Reagan said as she and I walked back to our place from Payton’s.

“I know, baby. I was there, too. But there was a speeder and she was in trouble. So we had to take her to the station,” I explained.

I was fairly open with Reagan.

I didn’t want her growing up with the wool pulled down over her eyes. I wanted her to know that this place wasn’t bad, per se, but there were definitely dangers in it that could harm her if she weren’t careful.

She knew all about strangers and to never, under any circumstance, get into a car with someone she knew or didn’t know unless I, one of the people at Free, or the men on my SWAT team told her to.

She also knew that her mother was not a good person, and that she wasn’t allowed to go anywhere with her, either. Although, she did know who she was and what she looked like.

“I know, daddy. I saw you leaving from the playground,” she said, patting my hand softly before bending down to pick up a rock.

Then she chunked the fuck out of it.

It sailed through the air in front of us and landed in the pond that was ahead.

It hit the water with a large plop, and Reagan continued to do it until she got tired of it.

The girl was a good pitcher, I’d give her that.

But then again, I paid for her to be, so she better.

Softball wasn’t cheap, but she enjoyed it, and I’d give her anything if it put that kind of smile on her face.

Rolling my eyes at my inability to say no to my child, I picked up a decomposed log and heaved it into the middle of the pond.

“I brought your gun. Do you want to shoot it?” I asked, looking down at my little girl that was all me.

She smiled, showing her missing front teeth, and nodded exuberantly. “Yes!”

Pulling out the twenty two at the small of my back, I handed it to her.

She dropped down onto her haunches, checked the chamber, safety, and magazine expertly.

And with little fanfare, she emptied the magazine into the log.

The log jumped, bounced and exploded as she hit the log each and every time.

“Do you have any more?” She asked.

I gave her a look that clearly said she ‘thought I was stupid,’ before reaching into my pocket for a handful of twenty two’s. “Here.”

She ejected the magazine and handed the gun to me as she loaded the clip.

Then she was off again.

We did this for twenty minutes or so before I realized that we were no longer alone.

Turning around, I smiled at Lennox.

“Hey,” I said, lifting my arm for her to come closer.

She came, stepping carefully over logs and branches as she moved to me.

She was wearing faded jeans that hugged her luscious legs perfectly, an all-black t-shirt, and tennis shoes.

I’d never seen her in jeans and I found that I liked it.

I liked how simple and natural she looked.

I liked that she didn’t have on makeup and that she could let loose.

“How’d you find us?” I asked, looking down at my watch to make sure I wasn’t late.

I wasn’t.

It was twenty until I told her to be there.

She smiled.

“I pulled up to the gate and some big guy with black hair and a red bandana around his head pointed me in the direction I needed to go. When I parked the car, a woman with long curly blonde hair pointed me towards here,” she said.

Jack and Cheyenne, I guessed.

“Cool. Reagan, say hi to Lennox,” I said, but Reagan was too engrossed with her shooting to even realize I’d spoken to her.

Lennox smiled at my daughter.

“She’s good,” she said, watching the log become nothing more than chunks floating in the water.

I nodded. “She’s been shooting for going on four years. She’s been in a couple competitions, too. She finds she likes recreation better than competing, though.”

Lennox smiled. “I’ve never shot one before.”

I turned to her, surprised. “Really?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Never. My daddy had some, showed us how to work them, but then told us to stay away from them unless there was an intruder.”

I blinked.

Why would someone not show their children how to shoot guns, and then actually shoot them with them to make sure they understood completely, if they were going to have them in the house with them?

I would never know, though.

That was why there were so many pointless shootings where kids got a hold of their parent’s guns.

“Oh!” Reagan said, finally turning around to see Lennox. “I didn’t know you were coming over. Hi!”

“Hi, Reagan. You did really well, do you think you can show me how sometime?” Lennox asked her.

Reagan nodded in all seriousness. “Of course. Although, daddy was the one to show me, so maybe you’d be better off learning from him.”

I smiled at my daughter. “You ready to eat? Lennox brought us dinner.”

Reagan’s eyes went wide. “You made us dinner? Like homemade dinner?”

I winced. I really was horrible in the kitchen.

I could do macaroni and cheese and chicken nuggets like a boss, but when it came to anything more complex, I was hopeless.

Lennox nodded and smiled, but her smile quickly died when her phone rang.

“I’m sorry, will y’all excuse me for a minute?” She asked softly.

We both nodded, and I watched her take a couple of steps back and press the phone to her ear.

I could, of course, hear every word she said, and the more I listened, the more my anger started to set in.

“No mom. It just happened this afternoon. No. Yes. Yes, I called the police. No, but who else could it be? It happened while I was making dinner. Yes. No, I’m not there anymore. No, I won’t stay there tonight. I have an alarm, it’ll be alright,” Lennox hissed.

I looked down at Reagan to see her watching Lennox with concern.

“Rea, why don’t you head back to our house and get cleaned up for dinner, yeah?” I asked her.

She nodded and handed me the gun before starting forward slowly, passing Lennox with a small wave, and disappearing into the woods.

Placing the gun back into the waistband of my pants, I crossed my arms and waited for another five minutes, listening as she reassured her mother that she’d be fine.

When it continued, I walked up behind Lennox, grabbed her phone from her hands, and said, “Mrs. Jane?”

“Who’s this?” The very distrusting Lucinda Jane asked sharply.

“This is Bennett Alvarez. I’m a police officer with the KPD and Lennox’s boyfriend. She’ll be safe,” I said, pushing Lennox back when she started to reach for the phone still at my ear by placing my palm on her forehead.

“What? You’re her boyfriend? Since when?” She asked suspiciously.

I smiled. Like mother like daughter.

“Bennett,” Lennox hissed. “Give it back.”

“We met when she sewed up my face with the aftermath of a SWAT raid. And met again when she sewed up my hand,” I admitted. “Then I met her for dinner one night after that. It’s new.”

“You sound very accident prone,” Lucinda admitted. “You’ll come to dinner tomorrow at seven. Don’t be late.”

Then she hung up, and I handed the phone back to a very pissed off Lennox.

“Dinner tomorrow at seven. Can I bring Reagan?” I asked her.

She narrowed her eyes at me.

“You know,” she snapped. “I told you I didn’t do relationships, and now you just went and told my mom that you were my boyfriend.”