Fatal Reckoning (Fatal #14)(19)

Like fuck it was in his best interest.

“There’s no way I can miss this funeral. No. Way. He is not only my boss’s father, but he was also a good friend to me. I never would’ve survived the immediate aftermath of losing Arnold without Skip Holland. You can’t keep me here against my will.”

Standing with his arms crossed, his counselor, Josh, seemed tense. “No, we can’t. But we can advise you to send your condolences and stay put. This is a very important juncture in your treatment. You’re a week sober and fully detoxed. One slipup puts you right back at day one. If you stay here, that won’t happen. If you leave, you’re risking the hard work you’ve already put in.”

“I’m going to a funeral, not on a bender.”

“Research indicates that most people who leave rehab after the first week don’t come back.”

“I’m not most people. I’ve got my entire life and career on the line here. I’m not going to fuck it up.”

A knock on the door annoyed the director. “What?”

The receptionist stuck her head in. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Sergeant Gonzales has a guest who’s insisting on seeing him.”

The director scowled. “He’s not allowed to have guests—”

Gonzo didn’t stick around to see how that sentence was going to end. He turned and headed for the door, brushing past the receptionist in his haste. In the outer office, Christina waited for him with Alex in her arms. His son let out a happy cry at the sight of his father and strained against his mother’s hold as he reached for Gonzo.

The sight of their faces sparked a tidal wave of emotion in him. Since he’d detoxed, his every emotion hovered at the surface, threatening to spill over at any second. He’d bawled his head off in group therapy two days ago, recounting the night he’d lost his partner, and he was about to lose it again now in the presence of the two people he loved the most.

“We came to bring you home.” Christina handed Alex over to him. “I figured you’d be losing your mind here after you heard about Skip.”

“You figured correctly.” Gonzo breathed in the scent of baby shampoo coming from his son’s hair. “They just told me the news. How’s Sam?”

“I haven’t seen her yet, but Freddie cut his trip short and saw her earlier. He said she seems to be holding up okay. Can you come home?”

“They’re saying no, but they can’t keep me here against my will. I’m going.”

“I’ll take you under one condition.”

“What condition?”

“That you come back right after the funeral and that you’re with me every second you’re not here. I guess that’s two conditions.”

He met her determined blue-eyed gaze without blinking. “I can live with both of those conditions.”

Josh came out of the director’s office. “Tommy…”

Keeping his greedy gaze on her gorgeous face, Gonzo found his center. “I’m leaving, Josh. I’ll be back after the funeral, and I’ll be with Christina the entire time I’m gone.”

“I won’t let him out of my sight,” Christina said.

“I can only tell you that I don’t recommend you do this.” Josh seemed resigned now.

“I hear you and I appreciate your concern, but I’m going. Let me grab a few things from my room. I’ll be right back.” When he handed Alex back to Christina, the child let out a squawk of protest. Gonzo kissed his soft cheek. “I’ll be right back, buddy.”

He moved quickly to return to his room. In the hallway, he passed a guy named Tony, who he’d come to know over the last week.

“Hey, Sarge. What’s your rush?”

“Going home for a funeral. I’ll be back at the end of the week.”

“Whoa. What’d Josh have to say about that?”

“He’s not happy.” Gonzo spoke over his shoulder, not wanting to slow down for any reason. He feared that maybe they could keep him there and were plotting to make that happen while he was dicking around. “But I have to go.”

“Sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks.” He felt odd accepting condolences on behalf of Skip and his family, but as part of the thin blue line, he was family to Skip. The law enforcement community was a brother-and-sisterhood formed by tight bonds that became even tighter when one of their own was taken from them in a criminal act. Skip had lived for almost four years after being shot, but his death would be ruled a homicide.

As he threw clothes and personal items into a bag, Gonzo hoped the classification on Skip’s case had already been upgraded. He’d be surprised if that hadn’t been the first order of business for the department after learning of his death. Upon zipping the bag and hoisting it to his shoulder, he stopped just short of the doorway to realize with sudden clarity that he was thinking like his old self again for the first time in months.

His mind was clear and focused, his determination reminiscent of the way he’d been before disaster struck, and his resolve to get back on track firm. Glancing at the room he’d called home for the last week, he had to acknowledge that the treatment was working.

He would be back.

But first, he would see to his family in blue, especially his beloved friend and lieutenant.