26. Housebound

HOUSEBOUND

R amirez sat in his cell across town, probably smirking while he waited for his lawyer. Asshole had the nerve to look smug during booking, like getting caught trying to kill Jimmy was just a minor inconvenience. My shoulder throbbed at the memory of our fight, a reminder that some brothers in blue weren't brothers at all.

The paperwork sat half-finished on my kitchen counter - incident reports, arrest documentation, everything needed to nail the bastard to the wall. Rio and Smith were handling surveillance, making sure Ramirez's New York connections didn't try anything stupid. But something about it still felt unfinished. Like we were missing pieces of a puzzle that stretched beyond our small town.

Jimmy still hadn't woken up. Doctors said his vitals were improving, but the waiting game was killing all of us. Every time my phone rang, I expected news - either the kind that would let me breathe or the kind that would send me back to that cell to finish what Ramirez started.

Garlic sizzled in olive oil, filling my kitchen with scents that should've felt comforting. Should've. But my mind kept drifting between Ramirez's betrayal and New York, where Elliot faced Vanessa's cameras and lawyers alone. The sauce needed stirring but my hands felt useless here, so far from where they needed to be.

The pasta water boiled over, hissing against the stovetop. Matched my mood perfectly - everything spilling out, nothing contained. Grabbed my phone for the hundredth time, checking for messages. Nothing since our video call, since I'd seen the exhaustion in his eyes, the weight of everything pressing down.

Fuck being stuck here. Fuck this shoulder injury keeping me from driving up there. Fuck Ramirez for

The knock cut through my spiral. Three quick raps, familiar rhythm. Liam.

Found him on my porch looking worn thin, circles under his eyes telling stories about hospital chairs and endless waiting.

"Shouldn't you be with Jimmy?"

"Caleb's there." His smile came tired but real. "And you're cooking. Smells better than hospital cafeteria shit."

Let him in because what else could I do? Some bonds run deeper than choice. Built on broken things we'd managed to fix.

"Beer?" Offered automatically, then remembered. "Shit, wait. I'm on pain meds. Got that fancy tea Elliot keeps buying though."

"The sheriff drinking herbal tea." Liam's laugh carried real warmth. "How the mighty have fallen."

"Fuck off." But it felt good, this easy back and forth. Normal when nothing else was.

The couch welcomed us like old friends, leather worn soft in all the right places. Liam sank into it, some of that hospital tension finally leaving his shoulders.

"So." He took a long pull from his beer. "A racing champion, huh?"

"Don't start."

"No, really." His eyes danced with something between amusement and wonder. "The guy who used to give me shit for being gay is now all domestic with Elliot fucking Blue."

"Life's weird that way." The words came out softer than intended. "People change."

"Yeah." His expression went thoughtful. "They really do."

The TV droned in the background, local news going through its usual routine. Mrs. Henderson's prize tomatoes. The high school football team's latest victory. Normal shit that felt a million miles from what mattered.

Liam's phone lit up, casting shadows across his suddenly tight expression. The remote clicked, channels blurring past until

The screen filled with Elliot, and my whole world stopped.

He sat there under those harsh studio lights, looking more like the racing champion I'd first pulled over than my Elliot. Polished, controlled, every inch of him camera-ready. But I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers pressed against his knee. Tell-tale signs only someone who'd held him close would notice.

Riley was asking about racing first, soft questions about championships and career highlights. Letting Elliot find his footing before the real punches started.

"Your recent departure from racing caused quite a stir." Riley's voice carried none of its usual small-town warmth. Pure journalist now. "What prompted such a sudden change?"

Watched Elliot's face shift, something real breaking through that polished surface. "Sometimes you realize what actually matters. What's worth fighting for."

"Your son, Tommy?"

"Everything I do is for him." No hesitation there. Pure truth. "Racing was great, but being a father? That's the most important race I'll ever run."

My chest went tight. Because this was my Elliot now. The one who made pancakes with Tommy on Sunday mornings. The one who fought for what mattered.

"There have been accusations." Riley leaned forward, going for blood. "About instability, about recent lifestyle changes."

Fuck. Here it came.

But Elliot just smiled, soft and sure. "The only unstable thing in my life was pretending to be something I wasn't. Living in hotel rooms instead of building a real home. Missing my son's life while chasing trophies."

"And the rumors about your personal life?"

The question hung there, heavy with everything unsaid. Felt Liam's hand land warm on my shoulder, steadying.

"I fell in love." Simple words that stopped my heart. "With someone who showed me what real strength looks like. What family actually means."

"A man?" Riley pressed. "The local sheriff of Oakwood Grove?"

"Yes." No hesitation. No shame. Just truth. "Jake Thompson. And I'm done hiding that or anything else about who I am."

"Holy shit." The words escaped before I could catch them. Because hearing my name, hearing our private life laid bare on national television

"Jake." Liam's voice cut through my panic. "Breathe."

"He's really doing this." Couldn't look away as Elliot kept talking, kept choosing truth over safety. "Putting everything on the line."

"For you." Simple statement that hit like a punch. "For Tommy. For the life you're building."

The interview continued, Elliot handling every question with that quiet strength I'd fallen for. No drama, no performance. Just honest answers about finding home in a small town, about choosing love over image, about fighting for his son's right to just be a kid.

"You need to be there." Liam said what I was already thinking. "He's facing this alone and he shouldn't be."

"Can't just leave. Ramirez, the case"

"Smith can handle Ramirez. Jimmy's stable." His voice went hard. "But Elliot? He needs you now."

"How?" Gestured at my wrapped shoulder. "Can't exactly drive to New York like this."

"I've got contacts." The smile I remembered from high school - the one that meant trouble in the best way. "People who owe me favors. Can have you there soon.”

On screen, the interview wrapped up. Elliot looked straight into the camera, like he could see through it to me. "I'm not ashamed of who I am anymore. Of who I love. And I won't let anyone use that against my son."

"Fuck." The word came out broken. Because this man - this incredible, brave man - had just changed everything. For both of us.

"Go pack." Liam was already on his phone. "I'll handle transport."

"The station"

"Will survive without you for a few days." His eyes went knowing. "Some things matter more than duty, Jake. You taught me that."

Called Smith, kept it brief. Left him in charge, trusted him to handle whatever came. Because Liam was right.

Some things mattered more.

Time to show Elliot exactly what that meant.