Chasing Honor (The Next Generation Book 2) Read online

  “I want to tell my mom first.”

  The nurse patted my shoulder and wheeled us into the room. A few minutes later my family piled in, eager to meet the new addition.

  My mom and dad stepped forward, and the tears I’d been trying to keep in check once again leaked from my eyes.

  “Mom. Dad. I want you to meet my daughter, Carson Rose.”

  1

  Eight years later

  “Yo, Ethan you headed to the bar with us tonight?” Officer Oscar Lorenz, my partner, asked.

  “Nope. Got a date.”

  “A date?” His eyes widened in shock. “You finally getting over your ten-year dry spell?”

  “It hasn’t been ten years, fucker. And no. I’m taking Carson out for a movie and dinner.”

  “You know, Maria and I would love to watch her if you’d like to go out. You know, on a date with a woman your own age.”

  He’d been offering for the last three years. I appreciated the gesture, but I always turned them down I’d much rather spend time with my daughter than going on a pointless date. Carson and I were regulars at the Lorenz’s dinner table. They had kids around Carson’s age, but I never left her there, even when Maria begged for her to stay. They had boys, and Maria said she liked having a girl in the house.

  “’Preciate it, man. But I’m good.”

  “Ethan, dude, one of these days you’re gonna need to put yourself out there again.”

  “I haven’t been a monk,” I reminded him.

  When Carson was about two, it was my mom who finally insisted I started giving her “alone time” with her granddaughter, telling me I needed to spend time with away from her and with people my own age. After months of being pestered I relented. It didn’t take but a few times going out with my old friends to be reminded I wasn’t one of them anymore. I may’ve been eighteen but I had responsibilities and a daughter. They were all carefree and were still worried about their cars and chasing ass. I didn’t have that luxury.

  Much to my mother’s dismay I’d quit public school, opting to finish my junior and senior years home schooled, and taking online classes. I hadn’t wanted Carson in daycare. The guilt I’d felt was overwhelming. She’d lost her mother, and I never wanted her to feel like she didn’t have me. Everyone said I was crazy, that she was too young to understand, but I did. I understood.

  I finished two years of high school in under eighteen months and immediately enrolled in online college classes. I didn’t have time to fuck around, I needed to provide for Carson and myself. My parents had supported us while I was in school. My dad had laid down the law and told me my education and future were what was most important.

  I still made time to go out occasionally, mostly when the stress of single fatherhood weighed heavy. From time to time, those nights I’d gone out had led me back to a woman’s bed. However, I made no promises. There would be no tomorrows, only sex with no strings. I had nothing more to offer; all my time belonged to my daughter.

  “Biannual pussy doesn’t count,” he chuckled. “You’re a twenty-something virgin.”

  “Crude much?” I shook my head. “And to think you kiss your pretty wife with that mouth.”

  “Don’t you worry about Maria. She loves my crude mouth.” He wagged his brows and continued to gather his belongings.

  I was almost to the door when he called out. “Get some rest. Tomorrow’s gonna suck,” he reminded me.

  “Congressional detail always does. See you tomorrow.”

  I checked my watch and saw I still had plenty of time to pick up Carson from my parents’ house and grab dinner before the movie.

  I climbed into my Yukon bone tired and prayed I could make it through tomorrow. Congressman Harris was a pretentious prick. We’d have to follow him around the city tomorrow while he put on his dog and pony show for his supporters. Too bad none of them saw or heard how he behaved in private. His wife had died a few years ago giving him the leg up he’d needed to win that year’s election. He had the grieving widower act down to a “T” and he’d gotten the sympathy vote easily. His son was a politician-in-training and an even bigger douche. Thankfully, they didn’t come into town very often.

  I pulled up to the house I’d grown up in and found Carson in the front yard with my mom, working in the flower garden. She had on a pair of bright yellow rain boots with god-awful red ladybugs all over them. Carson turned to watch me pull into the driveway, her pretty, chestnut curls bouncing with her movement, and my rough day melted away.

  “Daddy! You’re finally here. I thought you’d never get here. Gran said I was acting like I had ants in my pants. That’s gross. I don’t have ants in my undies,” Carson said before my feet could hit the concrete.

  “Hi, sweetheart. I told you I’d be here at five. It’s only four thirty,” I reminded her.

  “I know. But I really, really, really want to see Incredibles 2. Everyone else has seen it already.”

  A familiar guilt hit my gut at Carson’s declaration. Most of her friends had two parents. Even if they were divorced there was always one available. She only had me. And even though my captain tried his best to keep me on days, knowing I was a single dad, there were months I had night and weekend shifts. With only three years on the job, I didn’t have much seniority.

  “That’s a lot of reallys. We better get going if you want to stop at The Freeze to get burgers and milkshakes first.” I picked Carson up, bringing her face level with mine and kissed her forehead before I set her back on her feet. “Go say bye to Gran and change your shoes please.”

  She hurried off, disappearing into the house, and I walked over to my mom.

  “Hey, Mom. How was she?”

  “Perfect. As always.” She smiled.

  “The flowers look great,” I told her, noting the addition of pink daisies this year.

  “Thank you, Ethan. Listen, I was thinking about the roommate situation—”

  “Mom. I know what you’re going to say. I’m a cop. I’ll do a background check before I let anyone move in. I don’t want anyone around Carson I can’t trust.”

  “But—”

  “I got this. I have a huge house for just Carson and me. If I rent a room out it brings in a little money. Cason’s been asking about cheer camp on top of dance classes. I can’t afford both.”

  “My God, you’re just like your father.” My mom scowled, making me smile. It wasn’t the first time she’d complained that my brother and I were like my dad. “Would you stop interrupting me and listen for a second? You don’t need to rent the room. Your dad and I want to pay for Carson’s classes.”

  “No way!”

  “Ethan.”

  “No!”

  “But we’re her grandparents. We’re allowed to spoil her. It’s our right,” she tried.

  “No way, Mom. Thank you, but no. You spoil her enough. That was the excuse you gave when you put the pool in the backyard for her. And the last three times you took us to Disneyworld on vacation. And all the other countless things you do for her—and me. I appreciate everything you and dad have done and still do. But I’m not taking money from my parents to raise my kid.”

  “Told you, he’d never go for it,” my dad said, joining the conversation.

  “I had to try.” My mom looked thoroughly dejected. “I just want to help.”

  “Mama, you help me all the time. You watch Carson after school until I get off work. You keep her overnight if I have a shift. And if I get called out in the middle of the night, you never complain when you wake up and she’s at the house. There’s nothing more I could possibly ask for.”

  “I hate the thought of a stranger being in your house.”

  “I do too. But I have two more years until I can take the detective exam. Until then, we’re gonna have to scrape by.” We’d had this talk a hundred times.

  “We have the money, Ethan. We want to spend it on you, Carson, and Carter.”

  “Mom!”

  “Leave it, Lily.” My mom cut her eyes
to my dad and his face softened. “You rolling your pretty eyes at me, woman?”

  Oh, hell. I knew where this was headed. Over the years my parents had never hidden their attraction for each other.

  “Yes.” Her hand went to her hip, and my dad smirked. He always told us he loved when mom caught an attitude with him. I thought he was crazy. When my mom was in a tizzy, there was nothing cute about it.

  “It’s a good thing Ethan’s here to pick up our granddaughter then.”

  “Please don’t start,” I begged.

  My dad chuckled and tagged my mom around the waist, pulling her tightly against his chest. He whispered something that turned her face red and that was my cue to leave.

  “Carson,” I bellowed.

  “Right here, Daddy. Keep your pants on.” Carson trotted up next to me and, blissfully unaware her grandparents were randy, she announced, “We’re going to the movies. Thank you, Gran, for making me cookies.” My mom tried to hide her smile as Carson inadvertently threw her under the bus. It didn’t matter how many times I’d asked my mom to stop giving her cookies every day, especially when she knew I was taking Carson for milkshakes and junk food, she never listened. Her reply was always the same—it was her right as a grandmother.

  “Have fun with Daddy.”

  “Pop?”

  “Right here, Princess,” my dad answered.

  “Are we still going fishing this weekend?”

  “We sure are. Uncle Jasper is coming, too.”

  “Awesome.” She fist-bumped the air. “He doesn’t make me touch the worms like you do.”

  “Come on, Squirt, we’re gonna be late.”

  We said our goodbyes, and I helped Carson buckle up before I headed in the direction of The Freeze.

  Carson prattled on about her day with my mom and dad. I had my best girl next to me, smiling and happy, and all was right in my world.

  2

  Two hundred and fifty miles wasn’t far but returning to place that held happy memories gave me hope.

  It was a start.

  Two hundred and fifty miles smelled a lot like freedom.

  I stepped out of the motel room I’d been living in for the past week and inhaled. Yes, indeed, freedom. I’d picked this motel because it wasn’t terribly expensive and still in a nicer part of town, and I didn’t feel like I was going to be mugged every time I left the safety of the locked door.

  It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon, and, with nothing to do for the next few hours, I decided on a walk. Hitching my camera strap over my shoulder I double-checked I had my new pay-as-you-go phone and room key. Getting a new cellphone plan was on my long list of to-dos, but first things first—a place to live that wasn’t pay by the night. Hopefully, that would be taken care of later this afternoon.

  There was a cute, little park down the block with the most beautiful magnolia trees. I’d already taken at least a hundred images of the blooms, but I couldn’t get enough. The small pond attracted both mallards and sunbathing snapping turtles, there was always something to photograph. My mom used to joke about me never leaving the house without my camera. She complained I was experiencing life through the narrow viewfinder instead of with all my senses. Maybe she’d been right. However, now that she was gone all I had left of her were the pictures I’d taken, and I was grateful to have them. Each time I looked at the images I could draw up a memory to go with what I’d captured. All of them wonderful until she’d met and married Franklin. And with Frank came Samuel, his equally dreadful son.

  The pavement gave way to plush, green grass, and I smiled thinking about how angry Franklin must’ve been at my defection. The man had a perverted sense of family and had to know I’d never go along with his plans. It didn’t matter how many times he’d threatened to kick me out of his sprawling mansion or take away my allowance, I never followed his orders. In a way, I was grateful for his ultimatum, I should’ve moved out of his house long ago. My mom had been gone for four years, and I’d stayed in that house of horrors four years too long. I’d been too devastated at the time to make a change. If I’d had my wits about me, I would’ve flipped Frank and Sam the bird and been on my merry way.

  A little girl squealed in delight, pulling my attention away from the cream-colored flower. Beautiful, brown curls flew behind the girl has her dad pushed her on the swing, her legs stretching out on the way up and curling back on the way down. With each push she was gaining altitude. She threw her head back and laughed.

  The sight was too good to pass up. I lifted my camera and pressed the shutter release, capturing the girl in midflight. I lowered my camera and saw her dad staring at me. Even with a scowl on his face he was hot. Maybe he wasn’t the dad, he looked too young to have a child as old as the girl on the swing. He stopped the swing, said something to the girl, and started toward me in a fast and angry clip.

  Shit.

  “Hey,” he called out. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Um . . .”

  I was frozen in place. Not only had I not expected him to yell at me, but the closer he got, the clearer I could see his face. I’d been wrong. He wasn’t hot. He was smokin’ hot. Light-sandy-brown hair, greenish eyes, a perfect nose, and a square, chiseled jaw line. What I wouldn’t have given to have him in front of my lens. Maybe with his shirt off, showcasing those bulging muscles under the T-shirt pulled tight across his broad chest.

  “Well?” he barked.

  “Well what?”

  “Why are you taking pictures of my daughter?”

  “Huh?”

  I studied his face and thought about how unfair it was that men aged so much better than woman. There wasn’t a line on his face. After looking at him for a moment or two, I realized he had to be close to my age, I glanced over his shoulder at the little girl, now standing by the swings, she had to be nine or ten—there was no way.

  “Serious as shit. Right now, lady, tell me why you took my kid’s picture.”

  “I’m a photographer.”

  “And?” He motioned for me to keep going as if my explanation wasn’t good enough.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you. I’ll delete the picture. I heard her laughing and when I glanced over, she looked so happy and carefree I couldn’t help it.”

  “Delete it,” he demanded.

  What an asshole.

  “Okay.”

  “Now.”

  “You’re kinda a jerk,” I told him. I said I was sorry. “Don’t you think you’re being a tad over-the-top?”

  “A jerk?” He recoiled. “You haven’t seen over-the-top yet. It’s fucking rude to take pictures of other people’s children. You could be some sicko for all I know.”

  “Never mind, you’re not a jerk, you’re an asshole.” I pulled my camera body up and scrolled to the image, flashing the LCD screen in his direction so he could see me deleting the picture. Before I could pull my camera back, his large hand covered mine and stilled my movements. Goose bumps raced down my arms at his touch.

  “That’s good,” he said narrowing his eyes.

  “That’s because I’m good,” I told him, yanking my camera free.

  I glanced at the screen, saddened to delete such a perfect moment in time. I hit the trash button on the back of my camera and the image disappeared. I hated deleting pictures, even the bad ones. They were moments in time you’d never get back.

  “I hope you take a lot of pictures with her.” I don’t know why I said that, and when the man looked at me in bewilderment, I hurried to finish. “I lost my dad when I was about her age. I have one picture of the two of us together. Only one. I wish with all my heart I had more. When memories start to fade, it’s important to have a reminder. Sorry for troubling you.”

  I turned to leave when the man stopped me.

  “Listen, you were right. I was being a dick. I’m sorry. I’m a little crazy when it comes to my daughter. I’m a cop and, unfortunately, I see danger everywhere. It was a really great picture.”

  “Thanks. En
joy your day.”

  I glanced at the little girl again, wishing I could remember if my dad had ever pushed me on the swings. And, if he had, did I laugh and smile like the cute little girl with wind-tangled curls? I like to think I did. My mom had told me stories about how much my dad loved me, but I had no way of knowing if those tales were made up to make a broken-hearted ten year feel better.

  Now I was a twenty-something orphan. No parents, no family. It was me, myself, and I against the world. I started back to the motel, needing to change before I went to meet a man about a room for rent. It was the second step on the road to independence. A place to live that was not a motel.

  When I’d left Frank’s house I took only what was mine. Either what I’d bought with my own money or what I’d had before my mom had married the prick. It wasn’t a lot, but, truthfully, I didn’t need much. I’d preferred it when it was just my mom and me in a small condo. Frank’s mansion was cold and lonely. Thankfully, I had my car. I was happy that even when he’d complained the old Honda was a piece of shit, I’d never given into his desire to buy me a fancy, new car. My car was mine. Bought by me before Frank came into the picture. I wanted nothing from him.

  I was so lost in my thoughts the short walk to the motel was a blur. I rushed a shower, dressed, and was in my car before long.

  I grabbed the directions I’d written down and pulled out of the parking lot. The drive was short, and when I pulled into a nice neighborhood, I prayed the landlord wasn’t a creep. I needed to find a place to live and get back to work before I blew through my savings.

  I parked at the curb and got out, straightening my T-shirt the best I could.

  Please. Please. Please. Be normal.

  I lifted my hand and knocked. A few seconds later the door opened.

  Well, fuck my life.

  This sucked.

  3

  Shortly after the woman with the camera had interrupted us, Carson and I headed home. My head was pounding, and I was tired. I’d had a week from hell. Lorenz had been wrong, the congressman’s detail hadn’t sucked, it fucking blew. He’d had his son with him on the campaign trail, and with the congressman up for reelection he was stressed and took it out on everyone around him. His twit son thought he was Mr. Billy Badass and barked orders at the officers. Luckily, it only lasted two days and they’d headed back to the fiery pits of wherever they’d come from.