Chapter 35

chapter

thirty-five

The Delgado household was alive with noise and laughter, the kind of chaos Izzy had grown up in and secretly missed when she’d moved out. The kitchen smelled like heaven—her mom’s tamales and arroz con pollo mingling with the warm, nutty scent of cinnamon coffee. Abuela Ramona sat at the head of the table, already tucking into the bowl of guacamole with a bag of tortilla chips.

“Ramona, wait for the rest of us,” Marisol said, giving her a playful swat with the serving spoon.

“I’m old,” Abuela said, popping a chip into her mouth. “Make me wait too long, I’ll be dead.”

Izzy grinned, leaning against the doorframe and watching as her siblings bickered in the living room. Diego was stretched out on the couch, his head resting in Sofia’s lap as they argued over what to watch on TV. Mateo stood near the kitchen island, doting on Monica and the kids, refilling their drinks, and sneaking Noah a pre-dinner churro. Noah’s eyes lit up, and he chattered between bites about his favorite video games. Grace was quieter than usual, hovering worriedly near her mother until Mateo said something to make her laugh.

Izzy couldn’t help but smile. Mateo was in his element. He’d always been the protector, the one who made sure everyone was safe and happy. Seeing him so attentive to Monica and her kids made her heart ache in a way she didn’t quite understand.

“Hey, Issa,” Lucia said, nudging her shoulder. “I think big brother’s in love.”

“No.” The denial was instant. But then she really looked at the two of them. Monica was still bruised and battered from her ordeal, but Mateo was staring at her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit is right.”

“Language,” Mamá snapped from the kitchen.

“Sorry, Mamá,” she and Lucia chorused at the same time.

Rylan stepped up beside Izzy, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back. The warmth of his touch seeped through her shirt, making her pulse quicken. She glanced up at him, taking in the familiar lines of his face, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

“You escaped from Papá’s clutches unharmed, I see.” She’d been worried since her father dragged Rylan into the garage fifteen minutes ago on the pretense of showing him a classic car.

Rylan winced. “My ego took a bit of a beating, but it was nothing I didn’t deserve.”

“So it… went okay?”

He nodded. “I’m only half-terrified of your family now.”

“You’ve survived explosions and combat and two murder attempts,” she pointed out. “This is just dinner.”

“Yeah, and this is scarier,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching with the hint of a grin.

“Dinner’s ready,” Marisol called out, and the Delgado siblings sprang into action, jostling each other as they rushed to the table. Izzy hung back, letting Rylan guide her to the two empty seats next to each other.

“Hang on,” Mateo said, nodding at the TV mounted on the wall in the living room. He grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. “It’s about Stroud.”

The room fell quiet as everyone turned to watch the press conference. On screen, Nicolas Stroud stood behind a podium, his polished smile gleaming under the cameras’ glare. Behind him, banners celebrated the new partnership between QuenTech Bionics and Stroud Dynamics. The words “Revolutionary Myoelectric Prosthetics” were emblazoned across the screen.

“Thank you all for being here,” Stroud began, his tone oozing charm. “This partnership marks a new era in prosthetics, where technology meets humanity to?—”

Suddenly, a ripple of commotion spread through the audience. Stroud faltered, his smile flickering as a line of FBI agents strode into view. Gasps filled the room as the lead agent stepped forward, flashing a badge.

Callahan’s old partner, now sporting a sling to immobilize the shoulder that Callahan’s wild shot had hit.

“Nicolas Stroud,” he said, his voice clear and authoritative, “you are under arrest for conspiracy, fraud, human trafficking...”

The list went on and on.

Diego let out a low whistle. “Ooo, Tucker Quentin looks pissed.”

Sure enough, the camera panned to QuenTech’s CEO, Tucker Quentin, whose expression could have melted steel. His jaw clenched as he turned sharply and walked offstage, leaving Stroud to face the growing chaos alone.

“Well,” Sofia said, leaning forward with a grin, “that partnership didn’t last long.”

“I hope it doesn’t delay things too much.” Lucia, always the nurse, glanced across the table at Rylan’s arm. “That arm really is revolutionary. It could help a lot of people.”

“Nah.” Diego waved a hand and plucked a tamale from the plate in the middle of the table. “I bet Quentin already has people lining up to take Stroud’s place.”

“Okay, TV off!” Mamá chided and ushered her oldest son back to the table. Just as she was about to take her seat, the doorbell rang. She popped right back to her feet to open it.

“Oh! Sheriff Rawlings! What a pleasant surprise.”

“Sorry to crash the party,” Ash said, holding up a bottle of wine. “Rose wanted me to bring you this.” However, he appeared somewhat befuddled as to why.

“Oh, how sweet. Come in, come in. I’m so glad that nasty business with the Attorney General was settled. I’ll tell you, I am not voting for that awful man in the next election. Where is that beautiful wife of yours anyway? She should’ve come, too.”

Ash looked like he’d been hit by a truck as Mamá ushered him inside, his eyes wide and slightly panicked. “Uh, I’m not actually here to stay?—”

“Nonsense! Call Rose and tell her to come for dinner. We have more than enough!”

Izzy decided to take pity on him and intercepted her mother before she could shove Ash into a chair and stuff him full of tamales. “I actually asked Ash to come by, Mamá. We have some work stuff to discuss. We won’t be long, I promise.”

Mamá narrowed her eyes, looking between them suspiciously. “Work, hmm? On a Friday night?”

“Just a quick meeting,” Izzy assured her. “We’ll be right back.”

“Marisol?” Rylan called, appearing in the foyer with a plate heaped with tortilla chips and dip. “I know my Ma is going to beg me for this dip recipe when I tell her about it. Any chance I can charm you into giving it to me?”

Mamá’s face lit up as she turned toward him.

“Oh, of course, mijo!” she said as she patted Rylan’s cheek. “Come with me to the kitchen, and I’ll write it down for you. It’s a family secret, passed down from my abuela, but for you, I’ll make an exception. And you must tell me more about your mother. I’m sure she’s a wonderful woman…”

Rylan winked over his shoulder as Mamá all but dragged him back toward the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Izzy mouthed. She grabbed Ash’s arm and steered him down the hall to her mother’s craft room, closing the double doors behind them.

Ash let out a sigh of relief and set the wine bottle on the desk. “Thanks for the rescue,” he said, running a hand over his beard. “Your mom is…”

“Terrifying?” she suggested.

“I was going to say intense, but yeah.” A small smile cracked his hard face. “Terrifying works, too.” His gaze drifted to the glass doors of the study. From this angle, they could see the kitchen island where Rylan stood, chatting with her mother. “He’s handling her like a pro.”

She shrugged. “Rylan’s good with people. He knows how to put them at ease.”

Ash nodded. “Seems like he’s finding his footing again.”

“He is.”

“That’s good.”

Ash fell silent. She gave him a beat. And then another. This wasn’t like Ash Rawlings at all. He was usually blunt to the point of rudeness and never beat around the bush.

When he didn’t speak again after several seconds, she crossed her arms over her chest. “So why are you here, Ash?”

He exhaled heavily and faced her. “I made a mistake. I should’ve had your back. You’re one of the best deputies I’ve ever worked with, but I let all of Parker’s bullshit get to me. I was so focused on being the opposite of the previous sheriff, of getting rid of every hint of corruption, that I lost sight of what truly matters. You were protecting your family, Izzy. I shouldn’t have punished you for something any of us would’ve done. Something I, myself, have done. I broke the rules when Rose was in trouble. Hell, Zak broke laws when Anna was, and I let it slide because she’s my sister. I was wrong to single you out, and I apologize.”

Izzy blinked, caught off guard by the admission. “Ash?—”

“I want you back,” he interrupted, sounding more like his usual gruff self. “I know you’ve got your PI thing going, and I’ll support whatever you want to do, but if you’re willing… there’s a badge waiting for you.”

Wow. She’d thought about this moment a hundred times, had dreamed of it, but now that it was here, she didn’t know how to respond.

“I… I’ll think about it,” she said finally.

Ash nodded. “That’s all I ask.” He strode over to the study doors and pulled one side open, wincing as the noise level increased tenfold. “I’ll let you get back to dinner. Take your time deciding. The offer’s not going anywhere.”

Izzy rejoined the family just as everyone settled around the dining table, the air filled with the enticing aroma of her mother’s cooking. Rylan caught her eye from across the room and raised an eyebrow in silent question. She shook her head slightly, mouthing “later,” before taking her seat between him and Sofia.

Dinner was a lively affair, with multiple conversations flowing around the table. Izzy tried to focus on the chatter and laughter, but her mind kept drifting back to Ash’s unexpected offer. Could she really go back to being a deputy after everything that had happened?

Did she even want to?

“Monica,” Mateo said worriedly as he passed her a plate. “You need anything else? More tamales? More rice?”

Monica smiled shyly. “No, thank you. You’re already spoiling us.”

“That’s his job as big brother,” Diego said, grinning. “He’s like a golden retriever—loyal to a fault.”

Mateo rolled his eyes. “And you’re like a stray cat. We don’t know where you came from or what breed you are, but we feed you anyway.”

“Hey, I’m the lovable stray that everyone wants to adopt.”

“More like the one that pees on the furniture,” Sofia muttered and easily dodged the roll Diego lobbed at her head.

“No throwing food,” Mamá chided and then sighed heavily. “Ay, Dios. I’ve raised a bunch of heathens.”

Izzy chuckled, shaking her head at her brothers’ antics. Her gaze drifted to Rylan, who was smiling softly as he watched the exchange. She could tell he was enjoying the easy banter, the sense of family. It warmed her heart to see him like this, relaxed and content despite the demons he was battling.

As if sensing her eyes on him, Rylan turned to meet her gaze. His smile deepened, crinkling the corners of his eyes. Under the table, his hand found hers, his fingers lacing through her own and giving a gentle squeeze.

The chaos quieted as Lucia, Sofia, and Diego said their goodbyes, laughter giving way to a warm, easy silence. The lingering scent of Marisol’s cooking filled the air, and faint voices drifted from the living room where Mateo was in deep conversation with Monica.

While Izzy helped her mom with the dishes, Rylan stepped out onto the back porch, needing a moment of quiet. He leaned on the wooden railing and tilted his head up to the sky. The stars were brighter here than in town, scattered across the dark expanse like silver dust. He breathed in the crisp air, trying to clear his mind.

The evening had been perfect.

After the initial “you-hurt-her-and-I’ll-end-you” talk from her father, Izzy’s family welcomed him with open arms as though he wasn’t some broken-down stranger with scars, baggage, and a mechanical arm. They’d laughed with him, teased him, fed him like he belonged there. But as much as he wanted to let that feeling of belonging sink in, a part of him knew he couldn’t.

Not yet.

The door creaked behind him, and he turned slightly to see Izzy stepping out. Her Abuela’s colorful shawl was pulled over her shoulders, and her dark hair was loose around her face. She looked at him for a moment before crossing the porch and leaning on the railing beside him.

“You okay?” she asked softly. “You got quiet after that the Stroud thing.”

“I’m always quiet.”

“Not like this.” She nudged his arm lightly. “You’ve got that look. The one that says you’re carrying the weight of the world again.”

He huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Not the world. Just my usual baggage.”

“Oh, so only half the world?” She tilted her head, her amber eyes searching his face. “What are you overthinking about?”

Rylan didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked out at the darkened yard, where shadows of trees swayed in the breeze. When he finally found the words he needed to say, his voice came out hoarse. “Us. I’ve been thinking about us.”

Her expression softened. “And?”

He turned to face her fully. “Izzy, I love you.”

He watched the play of emotions across her face. Awe, happiness, excitement… all followed by weariness. “Please don’t tell me there’s a ‘but’ to that sentence.”

“I love you,” he repeated and cupped her cheek in his hand, ready to catch any tears that might fall. “But I’m not okay. Not yet.”

She leaned into his touch like she always did, but her eyes searched his. “What are you saying?”

He brushed his thumb over her cheekbone. “I didn’t try to kill myself.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“But, as much as I want to deny it, I was headed for that edge. If things hadn’t gone down the way they did, I might have reached it.”

She caught his hand in both of hers. “You don’t know that.”

“I do. I need help, Iz. Real help. For a long time, I thought I could handle it on my own. That I had to handle it on my own because so many people rely on me. But I can’t.” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. “No, I didn’t try to kill myself. But, afterward, when I thought I had already attempted it, it was all I could think about. It was all I wanted. And that scares me.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Rylan...”

“I need to get my head on straight. I need to deal with my PTSD and everything else before I can be the man you deserve.” He lifted their joined hands to his lips. “That’s why I’ve decided to go into rehab. In-patient, six weeks. They specialize in PTSD and addiction.”

Izzy blinked, caught off guard. She let go of his hand and backed up a step. “Wait. You’ve already decided?”

He nodded. “I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure I was ready to take this step. With Valor healing from his surgery, now feels like the right time. He’s in good hands with the team, and… I need to take care of myself. For him. For me. For you.”

She stared at him with impossibly wide and glassy eyes. “Rylan, I… I don’t know what to say.” Her voice trembled. “I want to support you, I do, but six weeks…” She shook her head, and finally, the tears fell, rolling down her cheeks in two fat droplets. “It feels like I just got you back.”

Jesus. He hated causing her pain, hated the lost look in her eyes. But this was something he needed to do for both of them. “I don’t expect you to wait. I know I’ve been a mess, and you deserve someone who?—”

“Stop,” she cut him off and stepped closer, her hands coming up to frame his face. “Stop right there, Rylan Cross. Don’t you dare try to push me away again.”

He blinked, startled by her vehemence, but she wasn’t done.

“You think I’m just going to walk away from this, from us, and… move on with someone else? Not a chance. I’ve waited this long, Ry. What’s six more weeks?”

His breath caught, his throat tightening as he stared at her, not quite daring to hope. “A lot can change in six weeks.”

“Not how I feel about you.” She smiled then, soft and full of unwavering resolve, as she rose onto her toes to kiss him. “Go. I’ll wait for you, Rylan. However long it takes.”