Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

Elliott walked through the bustling precinct, the sounds of ringing phones, hurried voices, and clacking keyboards filling the air. The city had its rhythm, a fast-paced chaos that had once been second nature to him. But now, after weeks in Jessup Peak, the noise felt sharper, more abrasive like it was trying to drown out something inside him he couldn’t quite name.

“Elliott!” Bucky’s booming voice cut through the din, pulling Beau’s attention to the tall, grizzled man standing by the bullpen. Commander Flynn "Bucky" Buckingham had a knack for reading people, and the amused look in his sharp eyes told Beau he wasn’t going to escape this conversation unscathed.

“Welcome back to civilization, Detective,” Bucky said, clapping Beau on the shoulder with a hand that felt like it could crush steel. “How’s it feel to be back in the big leagues?”

Beau forced a grin, leaning casually against the desk nearest to him. “Loud,” he said, only half-joking. “I forgot how much noise this place makes.”

Bucky chuckled, his eyes narrowing as he studied Beau. “You sure it’s the noise that’s got you out of sorts? You seem... different.”

“Different?” Beau raised an eyebrow, keeping his tone light. “I’m the same guy I was before I got sent to that podunk town.”

“Uh-huh.” Bucky crossed his arms, clearly not buying it. “You sure you didn’t leave a piece of yourself back there? Or maybe…someone?”

Beau’s jaw tightened, but he shrugged it off, grabbing a file off the desk to busy his hands. “Nope. Just the same guy trying to readjust to the city. It’s nothin’.”

Bucky didn’t push, but the way his eyes lingered told Beau the man wasn’t convinced. “Well, don’t let the noise get to you, kid. You’re too good a cop to let distractions pull you under. Speaking of which, the squad wants to take you out tonight. Drinks, maybe hit that new steakhouse downtown. You in?”

Beau hesitated, the idea of a loud bar and forced camaraderie feeling about as appealing as a root canal. “I appreciate it, but I’ve got an early morning. Rain check?”

Bucky tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You? Turning down a chance to celebrate? Now I know something’s up.”

“Nothing’s up,” Beau said, his voice firm but not harsh. “Just tired. Another time.”

Bucky let it go with a nod, but the look in his eyes said he wasn’t letting it go for good. “All right, Elliott. But don’t make a habit of hiding out. You’re back in the real world now.”

The words stuck with Beau as he walked out of the precinct, the cacophony of the city greeting him like an old, unwelcome friend. He slipped into his car, the sounds muffling slightly as he shut the door, and for a moment, he just sat there, staring at the steering wheel. The real world. Was this the real world? Or had he left it behind in Jessup Peak?

His apartment greeted him with its usual emptiness. Clean, sparse, and impersonal, it was more of a place to sleep than a home. Beau tossed his keys onto the counter and opened the freezer, pulling out a TV dinner without even looking at what it was. He popped it into the microwave, the mechanical hum filling the silence.

Minutes later, he sat on the couch, the tray balanced on his lap as he flipped on the TV. The screen lit up with a sitcom he didn’t care about, the canned laughter grating against his already frayed nerves. He took a bite of the lukewarm food, barely tasting it as his mind wandered.

Jessup Peak. Abbie.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the couch. He could see her so clearly—her sharp eyes, her fiery temper, the way she could make him laugh even when she was driving him crazy. She had this way of getting under his skin, of challenging him, of making him feel alive in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

And now, she was gone.

Beau let out a long breath, his chest tight with the pain of missing her already. He’d let her go, because what else could he do? He wasn’t the guy to hold someone like Abbie back.

And damn it, he missed her.

He rubbed a hand over his face, the frustration boiling just beneath the surface. He’d had plenty of flings, plenty of women who came and went without leaving much of an impression. But Abbie? She was different. She was in his head, in his blood, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake her.

“Am I in love with her?” he muttered to the empty room, the words hanging in the air like a challenge.

The thought scared the hell out of him. Love wasn’t something he’d ever let himself consider. His parents’ messy divorce, his failed relationships—they’d all taught him that love was just another way to get hurt. And yet, the idea of a life without Abbie in it felt... hollow.

Beau set the tray aside, his appetite gone. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at the muted TV. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He’d come back to the city thinking he’d slip right back into his old life, but everything felt off, like a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit.

The truth was, he didn’t want this life anymore. The noise, the chaos, the endless grind—it all felt so meaningless without her.

Beau scrubbed a hand through his hair, his mind racing. He thought about her laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about fighting for the underdog, the way she’d looked at him that night at his door. He’d been too scared to say anything then, too scared to admit how he felt. And now she was gone.

He stood abruptly, pacing the small living room. Maybe it was too late. Maybe he’d already blown his chance. But if there was even the slightest possibility of fixing this, of showing Abbie they could have something real, something worth fighting for, then he had to try.

Because the truth was, he didn’t want to live without her, but what choice did he have?