“The chief wants to talk to you too. Hold on.”

“Wait, Sarge. Sarge?”

The sounds of the precinct filled the phone, but she clearly wasn’t paying any attention. I sagged against the hallway, pinching the bridge of my nose. Great.

“Okay, Tex, you’re on with both of us.”

“Where the hell are you, Caster?” Chief Hawkins asked. “I understand you saw some horrible shit,” he said solemnly. “Especially with Houghton.”

I tensed up. The whole reason they’d let me off the hook was because of how Rourke had died. I’d told them I was shaken up and hiding from the Vitales. They understood it immediately because who wouldn’t after seeing the wreck that was Rourke’s body?

“He was working with one of the recently fired cops,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “And they were both stealing from the Vitales. They didn’t like that.” That’s an understatement. “I have evidence to turn over for that case; some of my own, some from a consultant. I’ll have it on your desk tomorrow. I just need one more day.”

“You take the time you need, son,” the chief grunted. “That bust was as successful as it could be, considering Rourke screwed it up on his end. We want you back working on the Vitales’ case.”

My throat tightened. “I can’t.”

“Not as an officer,” he continued. “As a detective.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe. He was offering me my dream job. Since the moment I’d sobered up and knew I would be heading for the academy for training, that was my goal. Now, the word detective sent ice down my spine. I couldn’t imagine relying on someone after Rourke’s betrayal, which was a big part of the job.

“No,” I said more firmly. “No, thank you, sir. I’m done. I’ll return my gun and badge and finish the appropriate paperwork tomorrow after I turn over the evidence.”

The phone went quiet. Sarge’s voice eventually came through. “Are you sure, Tex?”

“More than sure,” I said quickly. “This isn’t what I want to do for work anymore. Thanks for the opportunity, but no thanks.” It went quiet again. “I need to go. I’ll be in early.”

I hung up before either of them could say anything. My dream was no longer to compete with my father. I didn’t give a damn if he was upset when he heard about it, either. I had my whole life ahead of me. I wouldn’t spend it doing a job I no longer felt any passion for, trying to impress people I didn’t want to be around. Time to move on.

What am I going to do now, though?

No immediate jobs popped up in my head that I wanted to do. I tried to think of something, anything, but all I pulled were blanks. Sighing, I ran a hand down my face. I’m still not ready to think about anything else right now. I needed more time to heal.

“At least I have a rich boyfriend who will support me until I can figure it out,” I mumbled, relief spreading through me as I smiled at myself.